“I don’t care.” It tastes like a lie on my tongue.
Sara snorts. “Sure, kid. Just be careful in there.” They step back into the elevator, and the doors close before I can formulate a response. What is there to say? Malone’s on edge. I am, too.
It’ll be a party.
The room looks the same as it did yesterday, the thick mat for sparring and the lights up bright. It’s also empty. After the slightest hesitation, I stride onto the mat and begin to warm up. Ten minutes later, I’m wondering where the hell Malone is. Not showing up would be a power play, but I can’t imagine she’d have Sara deliver dire warnings if she didn’t intend to be here.
My question is answered almost as soon as I consider it when the doors swing open and Malone stalks through. She’s changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of pants and a tank top. She snaps her fingers at me. “Let’s do this.”
“You don’t want to warm up?”
“No.” She’s on me before I can respond. Gods, she’s fast. And strong. I deflect a punch and the impact rattles me right down to my bones. It’s everything I can do to keep ahead of her, to keep some space between us while I frantically look for an opening.
It’s startlingly clear that the only reason I landed any blows yesterday was because I surprised her. She wasn’t expecting me to be as good as I am. Now, she’s not holding back. I suppose that’s a compliment, but it doesn’t feel like one when she lands a punch to my stomach that drives my breath from my lungs. “Fuck,” I wheeze.
One second I’m trying to get oxygen, the next I’m on my back with Malone sitting on my chest, her legs pinning my arms to my sides. “Fuck,” I repeat.
“You’re distracted.” She glares. “You put up more of a fight yesterday.”
It takes several long moments before I can breathe well enough to answer. “You’re extra motivated this time.” Even though part of me demands I let it go, I can’t quite seem to help myself. “Rough day?”
“Something like that.” Malone shifts back so that she’s perched on my hips and plants her hands on either side of my head. “I win.”
I should leave it at that, let us chase the heat flaring in her green eyes. I can’t quite manage it. “We can talk about it, if you want.” Why am I offering this? Why am I craving knowing what’s going on inside her head? I don’t even know anymore.
She studies my expression. “Maybe later.” Malone dips her fingers beneath the straps of my sports bra and pulls them over my shoulders and down to free my breasts. She leaves it there, further trapping my arms. I could get out of it easily enough, but that’s not the point. It feels like intense bondage.
She palms my breasts, expression intense. “You’ll be naked for the rest of the day.”
“Okay,” I manage.
Malone pinches my nipple. “Try that again with a little more respect.”
I nibble my bottom lip. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Better.” She circles my nipples with her thumbs. Pleasure tightens my stomach, and I have to fight not to moan. Malone traces my breasts as if memorizing them. It’s too much and not enough and, gods, being studied by this woman is its own kind of foreplay. She leans down and drags her tongue along the curve of my breast.
I’m still trying to settle into the touch when she moves. She shifts off me and flips me onto my stomach. With my arms trapped at my side, I can’t catch myself and end up with my face pressed to the mat. She urges my ass into the air and yanks my shorts down my thighs to just below my knees. The position is far too vulnerable, but she places a hand on the back of my neck, keeping me still.
Malone strokes her free hand over my ass and down to squeeze my thighs, urging them wide. The move tightens my shorts around my shins, once again creating the feeling of bondage without actually being bound.
“I’m going to beat you tonight. Welt this pert little ass.” She squeezes my ass. “But first…” Malone palms my pussy and spears two fingers into me. I can hear how wet I am, and my skin heats, though I can’t begin to say if it’s in embarrassment or desire.
She strokes me idly, as if she doesn’t have me pinned to the mat in the middle of a brightly lit gym. As if she has all the time in the world and intends to make use of it.
The door opens, and I tense, but Malone doesn’t stop the slow slide of her fingers in and out of my pussy. From my position, I can see Sara nearly miss a step before they continue into the room. They glance at me, and I can’t help picturing how I must look right now. My face and bare breasts pressed against the mat, my ass in the air, Malone’s fingers buried inside me. A little slut, that’s all I am, because I swear I get wetter knowing we have an audience.