by Mayburn, Ann
She wanted to throw him to the ground and tie him up, to rip the fucking chastity plug out of herself and sink down on his cock, but before she could, he swept up into her arms and carried her through the now-dark living room up to the loft. As he took the stairs she nuzzled her lips against his t-shirt, nibbling at the bump of his nipple ring. The memory of seeing his piercings for the first time and the fierce pride she felt at knowing he’d gotten them for her, swept through her and she struggled to process her dueling feelings of dominance and submission.
On the rare occasions she’d let Owen top her, she’d still been a Mistress choosing to submit, but tonight with Wyatt, she’d come as close as she could to actually giving up control to another person. It had taken an enormous amount of trust on her part to give in to Wyatt’s demands, to give him such power over her, and a small part of her mind was still unable to grasp the concept that he hadn’t hurt her. Well, he’d hurt her, but he’d never abused her.
She gave a ragged laugh at that thought and Wyatt paused on his way towards the bed to look down at her. “You okay?”
Wetting her lips, she cleared her throat then said, “Thank you.”
The tense lines around his mouth softened and to her surprise he didn’t set her on the pad on the floor, but instead on the bed. “You’ve earned the right to sleep next to me, but I expect you to be a good girl and not molest me in my sleep.”
The softness of the mattress, the scent of him on the pillows, and the silken caress of the sheets over her skin were sensory overload to her stressed out mind and body. She watched with drowsy interest as Wyatt took off his jeans, leaving his boxers and t-shirt on as he slid into bed next to her. While she’d hoped he would sleep nude with her, she really didn’t think she could resist the temptation of touching him if he had.
“Spread your legs.”
He lifted the sheet and slowly caressed his way down her stomach, pausing to run his fingers through the damp curls between her legs before gently removing the plug. She couldn’t help the shudder of pleasure and pain as her body clenched down, missing the feeling of being stretched at the same time as relief at the cessation of the constant pressure filled her. He leaned over her to set the plug on the side table and to her shock bent to press one gentle, slow, achingly exquisite lick against her pussy.
Without thinking she plunged her hands into his hair and tried to force his mouth to her once again aching sex, but he grasped her wrists and removed her hands from his head.
“Please, Wyatt, please!”
“Shhhh.” He gathered her into his arms and began to stroke her hip. “Easy, sweetheart. Breathe through it. You can do it, and I promise you that I’ll take care of you.”
“Now?” she whispered in a hopeful voice.
The vibrations of his laughter moved through her body and seemed to settle into her pussy, which was once again soaking wet. “Not now. It all depends on you, on how long it takes you to earn my forgiveness. I told you this wasn’t going to be easy, Michelle, and I meant it.”
“Wyatt, I’m so sorry.”
He gently placed his hand over her mouth. “We’re not at that stage yet, got me? I don’t want to hear any apologies from you yet. Talk is cheap, baby. If you really want to prove how sorry you are I expect you to do what I tell you, when I tell you.”
She placed a kiss on his palm then turned in his arms so he was spooning her. “Can I say I missed you?”
“You don’t need to say it. I can feel it every time you touch me, every time you look at me, but no matter how much you missed me, I missed you twice as much.” He began to gently rub her belly, an oddly soothing touch that relaxed her further. “Now hush, you’re going to need your rest for what I have planned for you tomorrow.”
Drowsy enough that her words came out slightly slurred, she said, “Running?”
“Yep, among other things.”
She groaned and sank into his embrace, his laughter the last thing she heard before sleep claimed her.
Chapter 14
While Wyatt loved the hungry looks Michelle kept giving him as they ran, he didn’t like the accompanying hard-on. Running with a stiff dick just wasn’t fun, no matter how tight his underwear was. The warm sun beat down on his sweat soaked t-shirt and he longed to take it off, but he wasn’t ready to show Michelle his surprise yet, and she certainly wasn’t ready to see it, not with her jealousy issues.
It chapped his ass that she constantly questioned if he’d been with other women while they were apart, but he tried to see it from her point of view. It must have done a number on her to not only have to deal with her own cheating issues with Owen, but to find out that her father had an affair around the same time. Petrov had filled in a lot of the blanks about Michelle’s past for Wyatt, and he was more determined than ever to make Michelle understand that she was special, that she was worthy of his love. Hell, if anyone was unworthy here it was Wyatt, but he was trying like a motherfucker to get his shit in gear.
For the last two weeks, he’d been working to get this place ready for Michelle and set up a life for her down here away from all the bullshit. While he’d had to move his schedule up due to her breakdown, he managed to get everything in place. Now, he just needed to get Michelle to embrace the opportunities he was going to offer her because he knew without a doubt they would make her stronger from the inside out. She needed to feel needed, and he was going to help her realize just how much she had to offer the world – not because of her beauty, or her connections, or her money, but because of her mind and her generous spirit.
Right now, his Mistress was lying flat on her back on the sun-bleached wood of the boardwalk that led to the house, her arms flung out on either side. Every once in a while she’d mutter something about killing him, or slicing his tendons, or flogging him so he figured if she was okay enough to bitch he didn’t have to worry about her having a heart attack anytime soon. He’d pushed her harder today, made her run farther then had her doing mountain climbers in the surf. Now he got to reward her for her hard work and he couldn’t wait.
“Come on, Sapphire, get your ass up. You need to wash up then it’s time for some grub. If you can make it up the stairs on your own I’ll make cinnamon rolls for you. From scratch.”
He couldn’t help his laughter when she raised her hands and gave him the double bird. Taking pity on her, he helped her stand and gave her sweaty forehead a kiss. “It’s not a good idea to flip off your Dom.”
She snorted, but walked on unsteady legs to the outdoor shower.
“No, you get to take a shower inside today.”
The look she gave him before she grunted and began to slowly climb the stairs had him laughing again. Her glare was one hundred percent pissed off Mistress, and it did his heart good to see that fire beginning to burn in her again. Once she was inside he took a quick shower in the frosty cold water after making sure the beach around them was deserted. Last thing a man wanted was a stranger getting an eyeful when he was experiencing shrinkage from the icy water.
By the time he’d made it upstairs, dressed, and finished making breakfast, Michelle finally came out of the shower. She was nude with her wet hair piled on top of her head and held in place with a clip. When he saw that she’d shaved her sex bare he almost dropped the plate of cinnamon rolls he was holding. She giggled and proceeded to do that sexy fucking slink of hers as she closed the distance between them. Fuck, without the curls guarding her mound he could see the smooth lips of her sex, and he wanted to lick her with a desperation that bordered on madness.
She took the plate from him and set it on the counter, then wound her arms around his neck and looked up at him expectantly.
His voice came out rough as he said, “You want a kiss, don’t you?”
She smiled, all sin and seduction, then nodded.
“You are nothing but trouble.”
When she had the gall to give him an innocent look, he grinned. “Bet I know where you want me to kiss you.”
He lean
ed down and rubbed his lips along the smooth column of her throat, enjoying the faint scent of the vanilla soap he’d bought for her. She made a soft mewling sound and pressed her body against his. Without a doubt, the orgasm denial the previous night had left her needy, but he didn’t plan on giving her relief quite yet. Besides, she was trying to bend him to her will by tempting him with her now-bare sex, and if he gave in to her she would continue to try to manipulate him.
Time to show his Mistress that he was still the boss. Even though he wanted to give in and give her what she wanted, it was more important now to give her what she needed.
She was going to fucking kill him.
He moved the plate over then picked her up and set her on the counter, her little gasp of surprise stroking over him like a caress.
“Hmmm, nope. This isn’t where you want me to kiss you. How about here?”
Licking over her chest, he began to slowly make his way to her left nipple, which was a pretty dark pink from her arousal. He brushed his lips over the hard tip, loving the way she arched against him and her little gasp of pleasure. The urge to suck her nipple into his mouth, to bite and nibble on the hard tip filled him, but he denied himself the pleasure. He’d never considered before how hard Michelle’s orgasm denial would be on him, but he should have known it would be a double-edged sword. He loved to pleasure her, loved to make her come, loved to give her everything she wanted but refusing her the release she so obviously needed ate at his self-control.
He lifted his mouth from her breast and closed his eyes, then took a shaky breath, trying to calm his raging libido enough to regain his sanity.
Michelle made a little pleading noise, and he opened his eyes to find her staring up at him. The sunlight streaming through the windows highlighted the gold of her hair and caught the pale blue flecks nestled among the deeper blue of her eyes, and the satiny perfection of her skin. She was so goddamn gorgeous it made his soul sing.
Unable to resist, he cupped her face in his hands and gave her a slow, leisurely kiss that she tried to deepen.
“Relax, baby,” he whispered against her mouth. “You always want to rush things.”
He grinned at the sound of her irritated growl which allowed him to shift his mind off sex and back onto her. Well, maybe not off sex entirely but at least he was no longer obsessing about it, He just had to remember that the sooner she agreed to his demands, the sooner he could have her. Plus, they had somewhere to be and he didn’t want to be late.
He lifted her down from the counter and grasped her hands when she tried to reach for him, easily pinning them behind her back and pulling her against his chest. “Keep it in your pants, Sapphire.”
The angry gleam in her eye should have warned him, but he still let out a startled grunt when she stepped down on his foot and wiggled out of his hold. With a defiant look in her eye and a regal tilt to her head she picked up the cinnamon rolls and walked over to the breakfast bar giving him an arch look. With a grin he followed her, promising himself that he was going to do everything he could to make sure Michelle earned her orgasm tonight.
Two hours later, they were in his new truck again. He couldn’t help a surge of pride that he’d bought this beautiful piece of machinery with his own money. While he trained with Petrov in Chicago he’d made some furniture for Daniella, partially in payment for a service she’d done for him and a table with a matching set of chairs made out of ebony wood for her gallery along with a reading stand and a headboard. He had a lot of free time to think while he’d been in Chicago and he preferred to do his thinking while working. So as he brooded, he got a lot of work done. To his shock his table and chairs had sold for over well over a hundred thousand dollars, the read stand for eighty five thousand, and the buyer had commissioned him to make a bedroom set for more money than Wyatt thought he’d make in the next five years working for his dad. While he had to admit the furniture itself was well crafted, he didn’t think the simple inlaid wood and carved embellishments he put on it were anything special, but Danielle’s rich clients did and he wasn’t going to argue with them.
He welcomed the freedom his new-found source of income gave him, but he was even more thankful for the sense of pride he could now take in both himself and his work. He didn’t have to be a financial burden on Michelle, and even though he knew it was a sexist and outdated notion, he appreciated that he could take care of his woman. He wasn’t sure how Michelle would react when she found out Daniella was his business partner and agent now, and that they’d be working together in the future, but he hoped she would realize that no woman on earth could take her place and that while he considered Daniella a friend, Daniella wasn’t interested in Wyatt as a submissive.
Danielle loved Collin and they were engaged to be married for fucks sake. He was her collard slave. Something Wyatt wished Michelle would do for him someday. The thought of wearing her collar, it was an obsession for him. He wanted to earn that right more than any military medal.
They were getting closer to their destination and he needed to talk to Michelle before they arrived, so he turned down the radio and glanced over at her. She looked gorgeous in her jeans and dark brown t-shirt with her hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. Hell, she looked beautiful all the time but somehow putting her in normal, everyday clothes only highlighted how stunning she really was. Since he’d been feeding her as much as he could these past few days she was starting to regain her weight, but her cheekbones were still too prominent for his liking. She must have felt his gaze on her because she turned to him and the way her eyes warmed as she smiled made his heart ache.
“Let’s get some ground rules down. You can talk, but nothing about what happened in Chicago. We’ll discuss that later. Right now, I just want us to be a guy and his girl, got it?”
She cleared her throat, then nodded. “Got it. Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the therapist’s office.”
“Nope, you’ll see Lisa again tomorrow.” He turned back to the road, slowing down as they hit some traffic coming into the outskirts of Houston. “I did a lot of thinking while we were apart, and I realized that there was something missing in my life. A sense of purpose.”
“What do you mean?”
The edge of panic in her voice caught his attention and he gave her a reassuring glance. “Nothing to do with you. Trust me, I know my purpose with you. I’m talking about that feeling of helping others, of doing something that mattered while I was in the Marines. Yeah, there was a ton of bullshit that I never want to have to deal with again, but I missed the sense of family I got from the military, and the feeling that I was making a difference. Can you understand that?”
“Yes, I can. I kind of miss it as well. Like you said, not the bullshit, but there wasn’t a doubt that I was making a difference every day.”
“Right. So I started to think about what I could do to help regain that feeling, what I could do that would make me not only feel like I was making a difference, but give me that sense of belonging that I was missing.” He merged into the freeway traffic and enjoyed the hum of the big engine of his truck as he accelerated. “I also thought about what your dad had said when we were talking with him and decided to check out of there were any military charity groups in the area. I ended up hooking up with an organization called ‘The Front Line’. Do you remember your dad talking about them with us?”
“Vaguely.” Her brows scrunched down as she frowned. “Refresh my memory.”
“They’re a group of former military members, and some of their families, that go into disaster situations as part of the first wave of responders. Everything from earthquakes, to fires, to cleaning up after hurricanes. They also help out in the local area with doing things like rebuilding homes for military members that have been handicapped due to their injuries, making them wheelchair accessible and shit like that. But they also help out war widows by doing home repairs and a bunch of other shit. Basically if there is a need they try to fill it.”
Michelle l
eaned over and brushed her fingers over his cheek, then tucked his hair behind his ear. “Is that where we’re going now?”
“Yep.” He stole a glance at her, finding her watching him carefully. “I hope you don’t mind, but I kind of volunteered you for it. See, I figured that part of being a balanced person is feeding our soul, and I think that for you and me, our souls get fed by helping others. Marshall, the guy that was in your dad’s office with us, and I worked with Front Line up in Chicago. Good guy for a trust fund baby. He’s working for them full time now and he’s found a girlfriend that volunteers with Front Line as well. Those two are so sweet together it would give you a toothache to see them, but since I set them up I guess it’s all right.”
She laughed softly. “You were playing match maker?”
“I prefer to think of it as pussy purveyor.”
“That makes you sound like a pimp.”
“Okay, how about love guru? I can’t help it that these young guys look up to me.”
When she didn’t say anything he stole another glance at her, and alarm filled him at the sight of tears running down her cheeks.
“Aww, fuck, sweetheart, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
She placed her hand over his mouth. “Hush, I’m not sad, I’m just…I’m so damn proud of you.”
“What?” he mumbled against her fingers.
“You are so much more than people give you credit for, myself included. I get so wrapped up in myself, in my own bullshit that I forget the world around me. But you, even when…things happen you still manage to think about someone other than yourself. You’re…you’re amazing and I love you so very much.”
He held her fingers to his lips, kissing each one as his heart ached. With his throat closing up in a most unmanly fashion he tried to lighten the mood. The last thing he wanted was to have the guys at Front Line see him tear up like a girl. “You even love me when I’m running your sorry ass?”