Tristan watched Colleen walk over to her mattress on the floor, glancing back at him nervously the whole way, even though it was just a few steps in the tiny apartment. She knelt on the bed and then arranged the pillow before she settled down just as he’d told her to.
He was going to be so amped by the time this was over that he would be able to write code without sleeping for a week, which was probably what it was going to take to finish the program that would wipe Colleen off the internet.
He walked toward her, dragging his feet over the carpeting so she would be able to hear him coming. He knelt on the mattress, bending it under his knees so she could feel that, too. “Knees wider.”
She spread her thighs but kept her face in the pillow.
Her ass was still paddled pink, and the sallow remnants of a bruise marked the inside of one of her thighs. The skin between her legs was dark pink and glistening, dew clinging to the softest flesh of her folds, already wet for him.
His blood raced through his veins and was already rushing to his dick again, stretching it and weighing it down.
Not yet.
He spread his fingers over her hips and bent to lick her, a long, deep glide of his tongue through her folds, and then he used his lips and his tongue to suck and caress and eat her until she was gasping, nearly standing on her head and her toes as he pushed at her.
And he stopped.
She was trembling, and then she collapsed, sobbing.
Because this was punishment. “On your knees. Ass up.”
She slowly crawled to her knees, still weeping piteously whilst he rolled another condom onto himself. They were going through these at an alarming rate. He might need a drugstore delivery soon. He drove his cock into her and took her long and hard, not letting her legs close to rub her clit.
Orgasm denial is a tough kink, but someone had to do it.
And tomorrow, she’d come like fireworks from all this tension and no release.
He licked his thumb and rubbed it over her tight little asshole. “I will take you here someday. I will.”
Just as her sobs were turning to moans because there were nerve endings there, too, he stopped and bucked into her, slamming his groin against the rosy skin of her ass until his balls tightened and he came again, a white-out blast that ripped through his mind and destroyed him. He dug his fingers into her hips as he mindlessly jammed himself into her, a raging animal, until the violent delight dissipated and he was spent.
He braced himself with his hands on her back, gasping as sweat rolled off his cheekbones and nose and dripped onto her.
Jesus, he was trembling now.
Tristan pulled out and with shaking hands got rid of that condom.
Colleen collapsed onto her side, sobbing with frustration and punching the pillow.
Through the semi-conscious haze, Tristan scooped up the fuzzy blanket from the mattress and wrapped her up in it, and then he cuddled her against his side, blinking as he tried to clear his sight. Damn, his heart was still racing.
She snuggled more tightly against his ribs, and Tristan tightened his arms around her, rocking her. “There, there, little one,” he murmured in a steady, soothing patter. “Such a good girl, taking your punishment so well. I’m so proud of you.”
He continued praising her and stroking her hair for what felt like hours as the room darkened with the sunset outside the blinds.
“You’re my good girl now,” he told her. “You’re my little. Mine to touch anywhere I want, and mine to show the world. Mine to take, and mine to adore.”
She had opened her eyes and was watching him, listening intently, her dark eyes as fathomless as the deepest part of the ocean.
He asked her, “What do you say?”
Her lower lip trembled. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll take you to Paris and Rome and Monaco, and I’ll take you to Singapore, Tokyo, and Sydney. We’ll dance at Carnival in Venice and Rio, and we’ll ski in Gstaad and Argentina. And everywhere, I’ll bend you over the couches and take you, and I’ll tie you to beds in New York and Cape Town and Cairo and have you.”
She was blinking as she listened, and she whispered, “Yes, please.”
He ran his fingers down the side of her face. “You’re mine now. You will speak well of yourself at all times. You are precious. You are mine to cherish and protect. When you speak badly of yourself, it reflects on me. I won’t allow it. No one will ever speak badly about my good girl again, not even you.”
A tear swelled on her damp eyelashes, and she whispered, “Yes, sir.”
“And if you defy me again, I’ll deny you orgasms for a week and lend you to my friends to use, and then I’ll take you to a club, tie you to a St. Andrew’s cross in the middle of the main floor, and torture you with thirty orgasms in a row until you are sobbing and begging me to stop.”
Colleen’s eyes had brightened, and she bit her lower lip. “Yes, please.”
Damn, that had been supposed to be an empty threat. What was it that Micah had said? That happiness was a woman two notches freakier than yourself?
Tristan had better get a personal trainer and do some cardio. This woman might be the death of him.
But what a way to go.
He stood up and carried Colleen to her tiny bathroom, where he washed her body, and then he took her back to bed. Their supper had arrived, so he wrapped her up in another fluffy blanket and fed her bites of steak with an excellent pan sauce, potatoes, and more.
And wine. He held the wine glass as she sipped the Bordeaux, and he kissed her wine-pink lips.
They slept entwined, exhausted, and Tristan put the thoughts of coding out of his mind for the night.
Good girls weren’t brats, but all subs needed focused attention, and Tristan loved turning his laser focus to a soft, flower-scented woman. He slept so well, drifting in and out of sleep and rearranging her lovely, curvy limbs to wrap himself around her.
At eight o’clock, pounding on the door slammed through the apartment, sending shock waves through his very cells.
“What’s that?” Tristan grumbled as he sat up.
Sunlight streamed through the horizontal slats over the window.
Colleen pulled a long tee-shirt and shorts over her bare skin. “I’ll get it. Don’t get up. It’s probably Anjali again. She probably needs to borrow something else or talk about Jian or something.”
She trotted over to the door, flipped the locks, and opened it.
A man was standing outside.