Wishing Well(52)

Weeks had passed, each night bringing more pain, each day bringing heartache and humiliation as he exposed me more to his tastes. I was beginning to believe he was attempting to discover just how far he could push me before I gave in and fled. Silly man, he never considered I would become addicted to his peculiar flavor.

Being owned had become a drug.

What would my mother think? My sister? In the two months I’d spent at Wishing Well, I still hadn’t contacted them. I was ashamed, but they kept writing me, kept begging for some information through an email address I’d always kept since before my mother remarried and moved away. I would have to answer eventually. I just didn’t know what I would say.

Help?

Everything’s great?

I’m enduring whips and floggers and naked tours of a garden at night while my boss and lover follows me, his body fully dressed?

Only the blindfold he loved to use with me kept me from knowing if guests had passed while the grass tickled my bare feet and I was led to benches and swings.

Somehow I didn’t think they’d approve, so I hadn’t brought myself to respond despite my sister contacting Blake to learn I was no longer with him.

Yet, here I was, knowing how they would react to this lifestyle I’d chosen, staring at a man who didn’t bother to lift his eyes to me after I’d spoken. As usual, I waited until he was ready to acknowledge my presence in the room. I waited until he deemed me important enough to greet. I wondered when the day would come where he didn’t wait for the dead of night to parade me through the garden, to display for all the guests’ approving eyes how well I’d learned to obey.

Was it wrong the thought caused my thighs to clench tighter? In the months I’d been here, being exposed had taken on an entirely new meaning.

Dragging pen across paper in a flourish of dramatic and masculine script, he signed whatever it was he’d been studying and sat back in his seat, steepling his fingers at his chin as he studied me.

“What have you told Theresa about the bruises?”

Fidgeting in my seat to be pinned by his stare of fathomless, unrelenting green, I answered, “I can cover most of them, it’s just the ones on my wrists that are a problem.”

Some unspoken decision was obvious in his gaze. “Then I’ll find you a new position in the hotel. A new job with better pay. I’ll explain to Theresa that you’ve adequately proven your worth and as a reward I’ve switched you to a new department.”

“Really?” Surprise tugged my eyebrows up my head. “More money?”

“Yes,” he said, opening a drawer at his side and extracting a small ring, attached to which was a single key. “I recently had an abrupt departure and need to fill the position. There’s no reason I shouldn’t give it to you.” Tossing the key in my direction, he grinned when I caught it.

“What’s the new job?”

“We’ll discuss that in a minute.” Pushing his seat away from his desk, he ordered, “Come here.”

Standing from my seat, I rounded his large desk knowing he wanted me to take seat on the surface in front of him. Dutifully, I did so, knowing that one complaint would lead to his palm slapping my ass. It wasn’t that I minded the pain, he had ways of soothing it away.

Voice dark, deep, rough, he commanded. “Take off your shirt, Penelope.”

Although the windows behind him had no covers, and although in the gardens beyond I could see guests walking about, I did exactly as he’d said. My breasts tightened as soon as they were exposed to his eyes, needy, throbbing, desperate for his touch. He stared at me instead. “On your knees.”

Slipping off the desk, I lowered myself to the floor.

“Take me into your mouth.”

The corner of my mouth quirked up, a wicked grin meant just for him. Unbuckling his belt and the button that fastened his pants, I freed his erection, locked my lips and took him in. The fingers of both his hands fisted in my hair as he directed me down and set the rhythm he wanted.

Only a few seconds had passed as I suckled and licked and tasted the salt of his skin before he started talking.

“I wanted your mouth occupied while I tell you this. You’re not going to like it, and I don’t want you talking back, not until you’ve had time to consider your decision.”

As fear traced up my spine, pricking tears in my eyes, I had to fight not to clench my teeth. Any scrape would anger him, and he had ways of returning that displeasure, ways of showing me that for as graciously as he can bestow his attention, he can just as easily strip it away.

“When you’re finished sucking my cock, and when you’ve swallowed down the release you give me, I want you to put your shirt back on, take the key I’ve given you, and go to the kitchens to retrieve a meal that will be waiting.”

My teeth brushed his skin, tears falling faster when his hand fisted my hair harder. “I wouldn’t do that again, Penelope. I’m trying to save your job.”

What?! Anger filtered in to mix with the pain, terror that I would be homeless again, and for what reason? Because he’d bruised me and someone noticed?

Heart hammering beneath my ribs, I pulled my lips down to guard my teeth.

Dark laughter floated above my head, his hands driving my mouth faster. “That’s better. For a second there I thought I’ regret having to fire you.”