Page 23 of Bernadette

“Fine. I’ll do it for you.” He stretched toward her.

She jerked into the corner of the shower and poured wash gel on the cloth. She scrubbed her breasts frantically, and he came no closer than a single step.

“Slow down. Don’t be so rough on them. Gently, unless you want me to show you how.”

No. She absolutely couldn’t want that. She forced herself to wash with more care.

“That’s better. Concentrate on your nipples. Nice, slow circles. Tell me how it feels.”

She bit her lips together. Her legs shook under the weight of his stare.

“Tell me, Bernadette, or I’ll take over. You know I will.”

She couldn’t let him touch her again. She enjoyed it too much.

“The fabric is rough.”

“Do you like it? Or would you prefer a softer cloth?” His stare was riveted on her breasts.

“It’s fine. I don’t care one way or the other.”

“Pinch your nipples. Tell me how it feels.” When her head began to shake, he took another step in, uncaring of the rivulets of water wetting his uniform.

She pinched them. She did it hard, refusing to find pleasure in the profane act. Pain stabbed her chest and shot down to stab excitement into her sex. She gasped.

“Good girl. Again.”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Not because of what he was making her do, but because it felt good. He was watching, and that felt good too.

She hated him. She hated herself.

She pinched, and an identical hurt-elation chased through her again. Wetness seeped from her crotch.

“Now wash your pussy. Wash it well.”

He left off the threat of how he’d do it for her if she failed to perform to his liking. It wasn’t necessary for him to say it. It hung in the misty air between them.

She pushed the cloth between her legs, knowing his order before it came. “Spread your legs. Spread your pussy lips. Nice and clean. Good girl. Slowly.”

She washed. He watched. She shuddered, reacting to the provocation of her own touch.

“Use the cloth on your clit. How does it feel?”

She obeyed, even as her resolve to remain strong crumbled. “Please don’t. Don’t make me.”

“Go on. Reward yourself for being such a good girl. For keeping me from touching you the way you’d prefer but don’t dare allow. Do it.”

His gaze. Her helplessness. The sensation of the nubby fabric moving over her most sensitive part, held between her fingers as she rubbed. Her skin flushed with heat as bliss darted deep into her.

“That’s it. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

He loomed over her, soaked and dripping. His lips hovering close to hers. She moved the cloth over herself. Her insides shook and devouring hunger mounted.

“It feels so incredible, Bernadette. This pleasure is what you were made for. Let it happen. Surrender.”

A spasm of sheer exhilaration clenched her sex. She jerked, and her nipples moved against his armored chest.

Sensuous heat bloomed, billowing through her with a strength that unhinged her knees. She was dimly aware of Doljen’s arm circling her back, holding her up; barely cognizant of her fingers moving the cloth against that bit where another wave burst forth to consume her. She heard her breathy cries punctuating Doljen’s encouragement as she found ecstasy again and again.

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