Penance (Long Slow Tease, #2) (20 page)

And he watched her
. Oh, God, how he watched her – just like the Alpha male predator he was. As his gaze ran up and down her body his expression remained impassive and she was suddenly ashamed of her physical state, of how much weight she’d lost, and of the lack of effort she’d put into herself. She tried to draw on the core of strength that made her a Mistress, tried to regain the upper hand, tried to be what he wanted her to be, but it was all she could do to take another unsteady step towards him.

He never moved, watching her walk to him on legs as
shaky as a newborn colt’s. The narrow heels of her boots wobbled with her next step and she had to pause to steady herself. Wyatt never moved, never stopped watching her, and she wondered if he was even happy to see her, if he even wanted to see her. A horrible thought came to her, that Yuki and James had brought her here to say goodbye to Wyatt. A hot, stinging sweat broke out over her body and as she closed the distance between them Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, the impressive bulge of his biceps making her yearn to have that strength wrapped around her again. If she’d withered during their time apart he’d thrived, putting on a good five pounds of muscle, making his already impressive physique now a thing of raw masculine beauty.

She needed to smell him, touch him, taste him, know that he was real and cover herself with him in every way possible.

When she stood about a pace away he held up his hand and what he said next shocked her.

“Kneel.”

Blinking, she took a step forward and he took a step back.

“Wyatt?”

“You do not have my permission to speak. Kneel.”

She was sure she looked ridicul
ous with her jaw hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. Every inch of Wyatt’s body screamed Dominant, and the way he watched her so carefully, the way he exuded confidence, made her look again at the patch on his vest. When she did, her shock deepened to the point where she could barely remain standing. Petrov had indeed trained Wyatt as a Dom.

The questions almost poured from her lips, but when she looked back into his eyes and found no mercy, no hint of the man she loved, all she could do was drop to her knees in an ungainly move that would have hurt if Wyatt hadn’t
reached out at the last moment grab her arms and eased her to the floor.

At the first touch of his hands she
wept, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she choked on a broken sob.

For one brief, wonderful moment he caressed her cheek before stepping back, leaving her crying, on her knees, one breath away from begging him to touch her again, to forgive her, to tell her he didn’t hate her.

She looked up at him, her greedy gaze taking in his body, her lungs drawing in his scent until she was close to hyperventilating while he continued to stare at her. She was vaguely aware that they were being watched, that a circle of people stood back a respectful distance as Wyatt looked down at her, but she didn’t care. Her mind still couldn’t grasp the fact that he was here.

“Wy
att...”

He held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “No, Michelle, you do not have my permission to speak. Nod your head if you understand.”

For a very brief moment her dominant side tried to assert itself, chafing under his command, but it was quickly lost beneath her soul-deep gratitude that he was here.

Oh, God, he was here and she needed him so much.

After she nodded he looked down at her with that inscrutable expression of his. In a way it reminded her of the look he would use when he was about to make his men do mountain climbers until they puked because of some infraction. A cold, merciless expression that let her know he wasn’t fucking around. She became entranced by his dark gaze, falling into him until she was so wrapped up in staring into his eyes that she startled when he finally spoke.

“You have one chance to make things right between us, Michelle.” She started to speak and he barked out in his deep, commanding drill instructor voice, “I said be quiet. What part of keep your fucking mouth shut do you not understand?”

If she thought she was about as shocked as she could get, she was wrong. Wyatt wasn’t messing around, he wasn’t even the same man she thought she knew. Whatever Wyatt had done in Chicago, whatever he’d experienced had made him hard, cold, and almost scary. She’d never been on the receiving end of this side of his personality, having only seen him display it while working with his Marines, but she found herself falling back into a strange mixture of both her military and submissive training. Right now, he was her superior officer, her Dom, and she needed to pay attention to what he was telling her or pay the price.

When she didn’t say anything more, he continued. “
You have one chance to make things right between us, Michelle, one chance to fix this. You owe me an enormous debt for betraying my trust, for betraying our love, and for your arrogance and selfish pride.”

Tears
cascaded down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother to deny it. She did owe him and she would do anything he asked to make things right between them. Her heart thawed just the tiniest bit and hope began to warm her. When he reached down and brushed her tears away with his calloused palm she tried to kiss his hand, but he moved before she could.

“Listen up. If you agree to my terms I will own you for the next four weeks. You will agree to be my submissive. That means you will do what I tell you, when I tell you. You will try your fucking hardest to fulfill every one of my wishes, every one of my commands. If I think you’re shirking even the tiniest bit
, I will punish you. You will pay for your betrayal, over and over again, until I’m satisfied that you’re truly repentant, that you won’t betray my trust like you did ever again. If I think you’re not serious about serving me, I will leave and never come back. This is your last chance, Michelle. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded so quickly
she was sure she must look like a broken bobble head doll, but she didn’t care. He was giving her a chance to make this right, to perform her penance and prove to him how sorry she was. Part of her, a tiny spark hidden deep beneath the fog of her guilt and sorrow, bristled at the idea of kneeling before him, but her love was far stronger than her pride.

“Good. From this
point on speaking is a privilege you have to earn. You are very, very good at hiding behind your words, Michelle, of twisting the truth to suit yourself and trying to bullshit your way out of being honest. That isn’t going to happen between us anymore.”

She nodded again, willing him to see that she understood, that she would be
truthful with him.

“Stand up.”

Once she managed to get to her feet she saw the first hint of emotion on his face, anger.

“What the fuck did you do to yourself? You’re fucking skin and bones.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, to say she was okay, but she remembered that she wasn’t allowed to speak before the first sound came out.

Shaking his head, he walked around her before coming up behind her back, close enough that she could feel his heat, but not giving her the physical contact she craved.

“Since you can’t seem to take care of it properly, this body belongs to me,” he murmured near her ear, sending chills down her spine. “And let me make something clear to you right now, Sapphire, I’m not going to go easy on you. You’re going to hate me, and that’s okay, because I’m going to give you everything you need. By the time I’m done with you you’ll never go to another man for your pain again because you will know, without a doubt, that the agony I can offer you is more than anyone else ever could. Do you understand?”

She nodded and closed her eyes,
fighting the urge to lean back into Wyatt. All she could keep thinking, all she could focus on was that he was here, he’d come back for her, she would do anything,
anything
to keep him in her life. When he moved around to her front again he stood almost close enough to kiss and she tilted her head up, silently begging him to touch her, to love her.

“I need your word on this, Michelle. I need you to promise me you will do everything I tell you, even if you hate it, even if you think it’s stupid and you don’t want to. You may speak to make your promise.”

“I promise, Wyatt.” Her voice broke and more tears trailed down her cheeks.

For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, then his expression hardened. “Follow me, and remember, you do not have my permission to speak.”

She wondered what he planned for her, but he didn’t take her to any of the BDSM equipment. Instead he led her through the club and she took a quick glance around. People continued to watch them and she blushed beneath their scrutiny, but she couldn’t see Yuki or James anywhere. When Wyatt led her out into the foyer she meekly took her purse from the bouncer and followed Wyatt out the front door, disconcerted by his lack of attention to her. Now that the shock of seeing him was wearing off she had a thousand, a million questions, but he’d forbidden her to speak.

Already his command chaffed at her, and she berated herself for
her weakness. She’d sworn to him that she would do everything he told her, but it was much harder than she’d anticipated to not break the first command he’d given her. They walked through the parking lot until they came to a big black truck that looked brand new. She had to bite her tongue when Wyatt opened the door for her and that new car smell filled the grey leather interior. The brief contact of his hand against her as he helped her up into her seat burned her. He closed the door and she placed her hand over the skin that still tingled from his touch, trying to seal in his warmth.

When he got in and started the truck she waited for him to say something, to look at her, but all he did was drive out of the parking lot. She stole glances at him out of the corner of her eye as they drove, little peeks that she hoped he didn’t notice. Wyatt looked good, healthy and strong
, probably the total opposite of how she looked. The fog of apathy that had overtaken her life was slowly beginning to lift, and as it did, she noticed small things about herself, like the fact that her nails looked like shit. To anyone else that probably didn’t seem like a big deal, but one of the things she’d always loved was her weekly manicures, at least while she was in the civilian world. When she’d been deployed her nails had always been bare and kept short, devoid of any kind of feminine touch.

The thought of being deployed brought her mind back around to Wyatt and she wondered how he was doing with his PTSD. Probably a hell of a lot better than she was. She knew without a doubt that she’d been suffering
from a form of PTSD for a long, long time now, at least since Owen’s death, that had only been compounded by her time in the military, but she thought she had a handle on it. Or at the very least, that she could ignore it, but she had a feeling that part of her irrational behavior stemmed from her PTSD. She glanced at Wyatt again, taking in his profile, her heart rejoicing anew that he was here with her.

A brief burst of anger went through her as she wondered why
Wyatt hadn’t told her that he intended to come back, why he and Petrov hadn’t let her know that he was training with her old mentor. That fact still shocked her and she leaned forward enough to look at Petrov’s House patch on Wyatt’s vest. Of all the things she thought Wyatt was doing while they were apart, training to be a Dom wasn’t one of them. She leaned back in her seat and rested her forehead against the window, her thoughts at once speeding through her head and stalling to a complete stop as her mind struggled to adjust to the rapid changes in her life.

She must have fallen asleep because the motion of someone picking her up startled her awake, and she struggled against the sensation of being held.

“Easy, Michelle, I’ve got you.”

At the sound of Wyatt’s voice she opened her eyes, the disorientation clearing as she looked up and found Wyatt carrying her. A muffled sob escaped her, and she clung to him as best she could while he walked with her in his arms. It was still night outside, but to her surprise the air held the familiar tang of the ocean. When she looked around she saw that Wyatt was carrying her along a set of paving stones to a beautiful beach house elevated on stilts. It wasn’t huge, more of a two story cottage, but it was painted a soothing pale yellow and had a wraparound porch that encircled the home with deck furniture scattered here and there. Farther down the beach gleamed the lights of distant houses but they were on a relatively isolated stretch of what had to be the Gulf of Mexico.

“Can you walk?”

She almost said something, then nodded instead.

He let her down and she reluctantly stepped away from him, yearning for his arms around her but unsure of her standing with him. Without another word he walked toward the house and she followed him as best she could in her high heels, having to take small steps from stone to stone so she didn’t sink into the sand. On either side of the path and around the house long grass whispered against itself in the breeze off the ocean. She took a deep breath of the clean, salty scent and felt something loosen in her heart.

When Wyatt reached the weathered wood stairs leading to the entrance of the cottage he paused and looked over his shoulder at her.

“Take off your shoes, and your clothes.”