Chapter 83: Angel
She woke up with Sir's body wrapped around hers. Settling further into his warmth, she tried to believe everything would be okay.
"He's gone but he'll return to us," he whispered with conviction.
"I'm not sure what to do." Her hand rested on his arm as his laugh rumbled from his chest and sent shivers clear to her toes. It was his teasing laugh that often meant trouble.
"We're going for a jog, and then eating breakfast."
Angel squeezed the taut muscle beneath her fingers and gave a low groan at the thought of Sir's kind of "jogging." The sound earned a solid slap to her thigh. "Ow." She rubbed the offended skin and turned her head toward him, smiling through wet lashes.
He kissed her nose. "When he's not around, you're a brat."
Her hand traveled to his groin, seeking an alternative to outdoor exercise by continuing her bratty behavior.
He grunted and stopped her playful pursuit. "You're earning punishments and you haven't even gotten out of bed this morning," he teased.
"Punish me," she whispered, "please, Sir."
He moved so fast she had little time to do more than yelp. He had her across his lap and the first strike of his palm landed against the globe of her ass, though it only made her laugh.
"You will be running in those tight little jean shorts I love so much. No underwear and you will feel this," he swatted her again, "with every stride."
He increased the force, and playful swats turned to stinging strikes against her recently bruised skin. She wiggled and squirmed, but one of his legs pressed her down further against his stiff cock. Her sad tears turned to painful ones. At last, the rough calluses of his palm smoothed over the redness, sending undeniable need directly to her pussy. Giving her right cheek a solid pinch, he stood, letting her slide to the floor in a puddle of desire.
"You have five minutes to meet me downstairs in running shoes, 'my' shorts, bra, and any t-shirt you want. Don't be late." He walked from the room and she couldn't help admiring his tight, naked ass.
***
With every pounding step, she more fully accepted the fact that Master was gone for an extended period of time. He'd left before, but not since Sir's return to their lives. Master had quit his government work, or told them he had. But now, they both knew he had placed himself in danger again. She wasn't sure exactly what Master did, but his last trip had ended with a deep twelve-inch wound that caused a jagged scar from chest to shoulder. Her lips trembled with the thought. Sir, like Master usually did, sensed her troubled feelings and increased their pace.
She stumbled, her legs jelly. Sir grabbed her arm, righted her, and kept running until all she could do was focus on placing one foot in front of the other. Even her chafed ass cheeks couldn't compete with her aching chest.
After four miles, the well-worn path looped around. Sir didn't stop running until they were a half-mile from home. "Put your hands above your head," he commanded.
She complied, trying to suck air into her oxygen-deprived lungs. She enjoyed running, but Sir's pace was torturous. She walked next to him, miffed because he barely breathed hard. She covertly glanced at his knee where a bullet had ended his career in law enforcement, but he wasn't limping. After giving her a few minutes to recover, he took her hand and walked beside her back to the house. At the side door, he turned and placed his palms against her cheeks.
"Every morning, we'll run until he returns." The intensity in his eyes caused her pulse rate to increase.
She gave him a tremulous smile. "I hate you." She sighed against his mouth as he moved in closer.
"You love me." His lips parted hers.
The dampness on their skin mingled as he pulled her tightly into his body and ravaged her mouth with lips, tongue, and teeth. Small bites on her lower lip caused her pussy to flood. "Take me to the playroom, Sir, please," she begged.
He released her and backed away. "Go shower and then eat your breakfast. I'll think about it, but remember... no underwear."
She pushed out her lower lip in a childish pout, which caused him to display his evil smile. Turning, he opened the door and led the way upstairs before leaving her to shower alone.
Thirty minutes later, she sat down at the table, wearing a mid-calf length dress in retaliation to his no underwear dictate. As she looked at the breakfast Marguerite had cooked, her stomach sank. Glancing at Sir, she noticed him watching her. She raised the fork to her lips, barely tasting the food, and then chewed, but fought to swallow.
"Take another."
She complied and slowly ate the food until the last few bites and pushed them around her plate. Thankfully, he stood and beckoned her to follow. They entered the music room and stopped beside the piano.
"Play for me."
She'd only taken lessons for three years, but natural talent allowed her to play far beyond her training. She loved the time she spent practicing and performing for her men. She didn't think about her choice and dove into Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Her fingers flew over the keys while thoughts of Master invaded her mind. A slight mistake made her concentrate more fully on the music. She hoped Sir didn't notice. Master would have had her start over from the beginning. The thought made her smile, and she managed to flawlessly finish the rest of the piece.
She sat still, but heat traveled across her back with his closeness.
"Turn around." His low, velvety voice rippled against her skin.
She swiveled, circling her legs around the bench. Sir moved between her thighs and went to his knees.
"Lay back." He looked into her eyes as his hands traveled under the gauzy material of her dress, gliding up her thighs and further parting her legs.
Her back hit the keys, and her head leaned against the fall, causing a very un-melodic sound.
"Cross your arms over your chest."
Once she complied, his tongue ran over her clit. With her hands crossed, she had nothing to grab onto. It was torture worse than the miles of running. His fingers pulled her delicate folds apart and he delved deeper.
Her need built-every nerve ending screaming with pulses of pleasure wanting to escape. When he slipped one finger inside of her sensitized flesh, mewling sounds left her throat and her legs started quivering as the heat built.
He suddenly pulled away, though he held her thighs open. She opened her eyes and cried out in frustration. His fingers slid across her skin until he held her upper arms and pulled her forward.
His evil smile flashed with humor, but his voice was firm. "There are consequences for your bratty behavior and this is one of them. We will go to the playroom when I say so. You will eat your food, practice piano, and start over when you make mistakes. Stephens will be listening if I am not. I have no desire to leave fresh daily bruises on your ass, but, baby..." his sea green eyes pierced hers and his voice lowered, "I'll enjoy putting them there. Go change into a skimpier outfit and leave the long, flowing material for when we go out. Do you understand?"
She gave a slow nod, a thrill running through every inch of her body. His lips tightened and she knew it was because she didn't give a verbal response. "Yes, Sir."
His eyes softened and his grin went from evil to sensuous. "Good girl. Go change."
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