Priceless (Ruthless Doms 1)

I get to my feet with reluctance, and snap my fingers at her. “Come,” I tell her. “Walk behind me unless I instruct you to crawl. No speaking now, unless I allow it.”

She nods, bows her head, and walks obediently behind me.

“I want you so close to me I can touch you at all times. Do you understand?”

I will find a leash like Erik, if only so I can tether her to me and keep her safe.

“Yes, sir.”

“Come, let’s get you ready,” I tell her. I can’t risk speaking to her freely anymore. She is my slave, and I her master. I take her by the hand to the bathroom and point to the shower. “You need to shower and prepare for the day.”

I have no clean clothes for her at my disposal, so the little sheath she came in will do for now. I remove it carefully, fold it, and place it on a little table in the bathroom, then start the shower. I test the water and see it’s to my liking, then wordlessly lead her in. We don’t speak as I hand her soap and shampoo, and watch her wash herself quickly. I stand to the side, but I can see everything. The gorgeous fullness of her breasts, dripping with soap and water. Her peaked, pretty pink nipples, delectable and tempting. The flatness of her belly and roundness of her hips, and the bare skin at the vee between her thighs. She’s been waxed and groomed and prepared for me.

We don’t make eye contact. I want to be the one in that shower with her. I’m hard as fuck just watching her wash.

Screw it.

I remove my towel and throw it to the floor, then join her, turning her around to face me. I keep my touches platonic, wordlessly moving the washcloth and soaping her body, drawing it between her legs and over every inch of her skin. But the nearness of her breaks my resolve. When I wash her shoulder I can’t help but bend down and lazily lap at her peaked nipple.

“Ooooohhhh.” Her voice trails off and she anchors herself by holding onto my shoulders.

“Are you a good girl?” I whisper, gliding a hand to the heat between her thighs. Water pounds on my back as I gently ease my finger along her sensitive places.

“I am a good girl,” she whispers.

“Such a very, very good girl.” I want to finger her until she comes, lap at her soft folds until she comes on my face, pin her down and fuck her until nothing remains in her memory but me. But we need to make an appearance.

“Behave yourself,” I tell her, increasing the tempo of my strokes. “And when we come back here, I’ll reward you well for your good behavior.”

“But can’t—can’t I—ohhhh,” her voice trails off and she rocks her hips against my hand. “Earn a reward now?”

“Soon,” I tell her, removing my hand. I don’t miss the little mewl of protest or the little pouty lip because I didn’t give her what she wants. I will, in time, but she has to do what I say. I weave my fingers through her sodden hair and yank her head back.

“Are you pouting?” I ask.

Her eyes close and she wets her lips, stifling a moan. “No, sir,” she finally whispers.

“You do know that I can punish you by bringing you to the cusp of release but not granting you pleasure?”

Her eyes grow wide. “Would you do that? Really?”

“If I found it the most effective way of ensuring your obedience? Yes.”

It would be a lie to say I didn’t enjoy this part, controlling her and having her obey me. Hell, even the threat of punishment makes me hard. She draws close to me and my cock presses against the softness of her belly. It takes every bit of self-control I have not to claim her right here, right now.

Her hand graces my side and she slides it down. I groan and grab her wrist. I have to resist. I can’t let her touch me.

“A slave never touches a master without permission,” I say thickly. She drops her head to my chest, the steaming hot water cascading over her hair and down her back.

“Yes, sir.”

In silence, I shut the shower off. I don’t want to let her go even for this short time. I grab a towel and quickly dry off, then wrap it around my waist before I take one for her and do the same. I take her hand and guide her out, enjoying the way she leans into me when I dry her off.

“It’s time for us to go,” I tell her. In silence, we dress and get ready to go. Though we’ve broken through the fog that’s clouded her memory, it’s clear that she’s far from restored. I wonder how long it will take before she heals from the torment she’s endured and pacify myself with the thoughts of how I’ll seek revenge.