Tormented

“Don’t you have to get ready for your meeting with Dawson?”

“There’s time.”

He turned her around to inspect her derriere. Her arse had recovered amazingly well, with no evidence of the flogging it had received. He could go harder next time.

“I can skip the conditioner,” she murmured.

She was about to take a step away from him, but he had moved his hand from her shoulder to her throat, which stopped her instantly. He stepped into her, molding his body to her backside. Hot water cascaded between them. It rained over his head when he leaned in toward her.

“You saw the state of my cock,” he said into her ear. “A good pet asks what she can do to address it.”

Still holding her throat in one hand, he moved his other hand over the smoothness of her belly and down between her thighs.

“Isn’t it a little early for...”

“For what?”

“Sex.”

He liked the sound of the word falling from her lips.

“You have a problem with sex in the morning?” he inquired, dipping his fingers below her mound.

“I don’t want to make you late to your meeting.”

“Won’t happen.” And even if it did, it would be worth it. What the hell was she afraid of?

He caressed her slick folds and felt her shiver against him. Desire flared through his groin.

“Now be a good pet and get yourself wet for me,” he instructed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to—”

He tightened his hold on her throat, pulling her head till it met his chest. Water poured down her face. He took a step back so that the shower wasn’t right over her.

“Do it,” he snapped.

She was trying to arch away from his erection, which exaggerated the heaving of her breasts. “I’m not really in the mood.”

“Bullshit.”

To prove it, he dipped his fingers into her slit and drew out wetness. He put his fingers to her lips.

She turned her face away. “That’s probably left over from last night.”

“Then you’ll have to work on getting some fresh cunt juice.”

She didn’t have a response this time, but she wasn’t taking any action either.

“Are you keeping me waiting, pet?”

“I thought a break might—”

He turned on the body jets and picked her up by her thighs. Spreading her legs, he positioned her cunt in front of one of the jets fixed to the shower walls. She let out a loud gasp as water blasted her between the thighs.

“Shit!” she squealed.

But he held her in place through her writhing. She strained against him, the back of her head digging into his shoulder as she tried to resist how quickly the water pressure was affecting her.