Page 27 of Cruel Master

“Good girl,” I murmured as I set the end of the short nozzle to her hole and pressed it inside. She clenched around it and whimpered again. “This might feel cold.” I compressed my fingers around the end of the tube and water washed into her insides.

Her gasping breaths filled the room and I stood there, watching as her dark hole contracted and released against the nozzle inside. This was an intimate act—cleaning out her insides for my use later. It was one I would’ve relished had we been more than the pretend Dom and submissive that we were acting as. This act would have been followed by trust and care, but it was now tinged with the reminder that she’d betrayed me and run away.

Instead of trusting me enough to tell me what her sister had done—what she’d likely witnessed—Angel had done the one thing I thought we could avoid further. She’d fled, and she had yet to show any remorse. No, she didn’t regret her actions, and neither of us could move forward until she did.

“It feels weird,” she said, her cheek pressed to the counter as her fingers tightened against the cheek of her ass.

“You’ll get used to it,” I replied.

“I have to do this again?” Her head snapped up and she looked back, eyes wide.

I nodded as I squeezed the end again, sending a fresh wash of water into her ass. She groaned and lowered her head once more. “You’re evil…” she complained.

My lips twitched. Only my wife could say such a thing and make it sound as if she were complaining about my socks being left out. I pressed and released the end of the enema until I was sure it was done, only then did I move forward and relieve her of the nozzle in her ass.

“Clench and keep it inside,” I commanded.

“My stomach feels weird,” she replied as I pulled it free, but she still did as I said.

“Give it a few minutes and then you can go to the bathroom,” I said, moving to the side and cleaning up the supplies and torn package left behind.

Half an hour later, she was freshly cleaned—inside and out—wet from a recent shower and sitting on the bed as I towel-dried her hair with my shirt sleeves rolled up my forearms. Her head leaned to the side as her eyes slid shut. The few water droplets left behind smoothed over her bare breasts and between them to her hollowed stomach. My lips turned down at the reminder of how much weight she’d lost since I’d last seen her. Another check-up was likely in order.

My eyes scanned over to her forearm and it appeared that she had yet to notice the small cut there—and by now, it was practically healed completely. If she didn’t realize yet that her body was no longer under the foul chemicals of birth control, then she would soon learn when my child was sitting inside of her belly.

I finished my task quickly and then set the towel to the side. Her eyes opened and flicked up to meet mine. A quiet beat passed between us. I wanted to order her to turn around and present her ass to me. I wanted to spank her fucking blood red and then take advantage of her now completely stretched and cleaned asshole. I wanted to be the monster she thought me as.

In vengeance. In betrayal. In hurt and pain.

I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge, instead choosing to give her a modicum of reprieve from me. “We’re going out tonight,” I stated.

Her eyes flared and she blinked up at me. “We as in … you and me?” she clarified.

I nodded, turning away from her angelic face as I strode across the room to the bathroom, where I’d left my jacket after I’d taken it off to help her into the shower. My sleeves were slightly damp, but I’d be changing anyway.

“I’ll have a dress dropped off later,” I said as I retrieved the coat and brought it into the room. “You’ll put it on without complaint.”

“IF it means getting out of this room,” she replied. “I’ll fucking crawl on the floor.”

A wicked grin overtook me at that comment. “Is that so?” I tilted my head to the side.

She seemed to realize what she said—andto whomshe’d said it. “I didn’t mean that literally,” she said quickly, but it was too late.

“I’ll see you later tonight, love,” I said with a devious smirk still on my face.

“Gaven, wait—” The mattress creaked as I heard her stand up behind me.

I stopped at the door, my hand on the knob. “That’s not my name, Angel,” I reminded her. “I’ve let you get away with a lot, but you should know that the more you resist calling me by my title, the more I’ll have to punish you for it later.”

There was silence, and then, “Yes … Master.”

My insides cramped with pleasure. The feeling of it was so intense, it damn near sent me to my knees. By some sheer force of will, though, I remained standing. More than that, I found myself able to turn the knob and stride out of the room, closing and locking the door at my back. She’d never know what hearing that single breathy word from her did to me, and until she trusted me, she never would.

13

ANGEL

Master.

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