Page 45 of Stormbringer (Tracthesian Academy #1)

J arred hesitated at the bathroom door. Wayla was standing under the water, all slick and wet and delicious, and the devious smirk playing over her lips made his cock ready to burst and butt clench.

“Coming, pet?” she purred.

“If you’ll let me,” he blurted out, and Wayla’s delighted laughter eased some of the tension, allowing him to walk slowly over to her.

“Oh, I won’t be denying you anything tonight, pet. In fact, I plan to make you come until you beg for mercy.” She grabbed the lube from his hand and set it on the shelf before pulling him under the water with her. Her eyes and tone turned serious then. “You say apple and I’ll stop, Jarred. Got it?”

He nodded.

“Say it,” she demanded.

“Apple,” he choked out, throat too tight to speak.

“Good pet,” Wayla softened and lifted a hand to cradle his cheek. “You tell me if you want me to slow down, or if you don’t like something, but I need you to promise me you’ll say apple if you want me to just stop.”

Now the words came easier, and Jarred nuzzled her palm. “Yes, mistress. I’ll say apple if I want you to stop.”

Wayla’s expression shifted again, and Jarred’s cock stood to attention immediately. “Good pet. Now turn around so I can wash your back. Lean your hands on the wall for support and keep them there until I tell you otherwise.”

Quickly, he followed her instructions and then almost lost his balance as several tiny strands of water wrapped around his limbs and pulled his legs further apart. Those strands tugged at him until Wayla hummed, satisfied.

Water. Jarred gulped. He was in a shower with a storm spirit with unlimited access to water, and while she might suck at shielding, her control over water was splendid.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as another strand of water wrapped around the base of his cock like a ring. The same pressure then twined around his balls before tightening just enough to pull a grunt from him.

The smell of his own soap filled the air as Wayla began to wash his shoulders.

Her hands were firm and unhurried as she massaged his muscles there before almost hugging him from behind to reach his chest. The light pinch on his nipples was just a tease, too light to penetrate the haze building in his mind.

“Harder, mistress, please.”

She bit his upper back in retaliation. “Do not rush me, pet.”

“I’m sorry, mistress.” And he was, really sorry, when Wayla pulled back, and even the pressure at the base of his cock eased. “Really, I’m sorry. I won’t rush you. Please, precious.” The name slipped, but Wayla didn’t seem to mind. The water once again tightened around him, and Jarred moaned.

“Now, hold still,” she admonished him, before continuing her slow, soapy exploration.

B y the time Wayla was satisfied and set the soap away, Jarred was ready to plead and curse and beg. Every inch of his body was squeaky clean. She had played with his balls, soaped up his dick, and washed him between his ass cheeks.

Humiliation had danced at the edge of his mind at that, but Wayla’s quiet, pleased humming had kept it at bay. Now she was kneeling behind him, dropping small kisses and gentle bites all over his ass cheeks, while the strands of water grew thicker around his ankles and wrists.

Gently, she pulled him apart and started kissing her way closer to his anus. Soft kisses that barely registered over his anticipation.

“Mistress, please,” he moaned, not the first time, but finally, Wayla gave him mercy. Her lips and tongue made contact, and Jarred would have fallen if not for the ropes of water holding him in place.

“Good pet. Feel what I’m doing. Does it feel good, pet? Do you want me to continue?” Her voice was soft and wicked and held a needy edge, like she desperately wanted to keep going but was holding back.

“Please, please, please,” Jarred chanted.

Wayla wasn’t tormenting him anymore. She rimmed his backside, and a hand formed of water wrapped around his cock. As her tongue probed him, the hand pumped, and the cock ring of water tightened.

“Come pet,” Wayla suddenly commanded, the hand and the ring disappearing at the same time as her teeth sank into his ass cheek.

White lights flashed in his vision as Jarred came, shouting her name. Wayla kept murmuring praises until he caught his breath back, and then he felt her lips turn up in a smile, still pressed against his ass.

“Very good pet. Now, are you ready to take my finger up your ass?”

Jarred shuddered, his cock jerked, and, with a trepidation he had never felt before, he nodded.

“Yes, mistress.” He might die in this shower, but what a way to go.