The Athletic Aesthetic Read online

  He rolled the stick over her ass, the wood cool against her hot skin. “Think carefully before you answer.”

  “Your cock,” she blurted out. “I was thinking about your cock.”

  He brought the silver handle under her chin, forcing her head up. “That’s correct. You were more concerned about showing me your pussy, than properly executing your moves.”

  She bowed her head. There was nothing to say. He was right. And it chafed.

  “I told you yesterday to think about what discipline means to you, what you hoped to get out of our training.” He followed her eyes, refusing to allow her to look away. “Did you spend last night doing that?”

  She considering lying, but decided against it. “No.”

  “No, you did not.” He ran the handle of the cane along the line of her jaw. “Did you like watching me jerk off?” She tasted the silver when it touched her lips, tracing the seam of her mouth. “Did you like coming with me?”

  The mortification of being caught twined with the thrill, and her pussy flooded with raw, liquid heat. The tension between them made the air thick, difficult to breathe. Her heart raced, and every cell in her body tingled.

  “We can fuck right now if that’s what you want.” He dipped his head, and his breath touched her lips, warm and minty. His gaze flicked to her mouth. “I can send you home a very satisfied woman.”

  “No,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She wanted him so bad. But she wanted his help more. “I want to stay.”

  He looked deep into her eyes. “Discipline. Intention. Those are the keys to your success.” He lifted the cane, glanced at it, then back to her. “What are your intentions?”

  She straightened her spine. “To be the best.”

  “Then act like it.”

  She bit down on the inside of her cheek as the cane came down on her ass. She tried not to cry out, but it was impossible after the first few blows, the pain too sweet and terrible to handle. Tears came, but she stood still and took the punishment. If she wanted all that he had to offer, then she had to pay the price. The fifth blow landed and then he stopped. He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down into her space.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. She met his gaze. “Do it right.”

  He believed in her, in her ability, there was no question of that in his gaze. His conviction demanded that she believe in herself as well, that she live up to her potential, and be as good as she actually was.

  She wiped her face and crossed the mat to take her position at the starting point. When the music came on again, she concentrated on executing the moves, turning her body to highlight the most appealing form, to gain the most points from the judges. Her ass burned, a constant reminder of her purpose. Her toes pointed, her muscles flexed, and she worked harder than ever before, harder even than at the tryout. She worked to show him that she could, to prove that his faith was not unwarranted. She worked to show herself that she could, that she was still the best, and she worked for the pure joy of it, for the love of dance and movement. When she reached the end of the routine, she was breathless and exhilarated, her body flushed with heat and success. She executed the final move and waited for some well-earned praise.

  “Slightly better,” he said, from across the mat. “But nowhere near where we need to be at this late date.”

  “What?” she asked, her mouth slightly agape. “‘Slightly better’? That’s it?” She put her hands on her hips. “I think that was pretty damn awesome.”

  He smiled, but there was nothing comforting about it. “I will let you know when you reach ‘pretty damn awesome’. For now, however, our work continues.” He twirled the cane in his fingers. “I think we need to break down the routine piece by piece, focus on the individual components, and isolate your weaknesses from there.” He looked her over again and nodded once. “Begin.”

  She blinked, too surprised to argue, and before she knew it, he was guiding her through each separate skill, analyzing it, and then perfecting it. He showed her how to increase the difficulty level of her back handspring, which would definitely earn her a lot more points from the judges, and instructed her in a better way to land after her dive cartwheel. It was grinding, tedious work, but every suggestion, every adjustment made her routine stronger.

  When he finally called it a day, she was panting, sweaty, wrung out, but better than ever. Her routine was tighter now, she knew it in her heart. He was a tremendous coach, the best she had ever worked with.

  “You did well,” he said, and there was a new kind of twinkle in his eye, one she liked a whole lot. “Would you like a reward?”

  A smile curved her lips, a lick of fire heating her core. “What kind of reward?”

  He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “I asked you a simple question, Christy. Would you like a reward or not?”

  She smiled a little wider. Something wicked was happening here. “Yes, I would like a reward.”

  “Come over here.”

  He held her gaze as she crossed the mat, then looked pointedly at the ground at his feet. She got the message and went to her knees before him. Ferocious triumph raced through her veins. She was finally going to get a piece of his cock. Oh, yes, indeed. She looked at the bulge in his shorts and then up into his eyes.

  He reached down, cupped her breast in his palm, and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It hardened instantly in his fingers, and when he tugged, the sharp pain collided with the intense pleasure. “Go on,” he said. “Take it out.”

  She curled her hands around the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down. He stepped out of them and kicked them aside. His cock was even more impressive up close, and a delightful shiver ran over her. She licked her lips, leaned forward, and gave the head a soft, wet kiss. She felt the vibrations of his moan right down in the very core of her pussy. Holding his gaze, she pushed up his T-shirt and licked his stomach, tracing the line down the center of his abs, dragging her tongue over the length of his treasure trail, to the base of his cock. He gasped when she delivered wet butterfly kisses along his shaft. He cupped the back of her head, and she obeyed the silent direction, taking him into her mouth.

  “Good girl,” he breathed out. “Now, suck.”

  His hips began to move, a deliberate, rhythmic thrust. The taste of him exploded on her tongue, and she sat up a little higher to taste more of him. She wanted him to fuck her pussy just like he was fucking her mouth, slow and steady and deep. She reached between her legs to finger her clit, moaning around his cock as she moistened her cunt for him.

  The cane snapped down on her ass, and she cried out, startled by the sudden sting and agonizing heat. He pressed the tip of the cane against her shoulder and pushed her away. “Did I tell you to do that?”

  She sat back on her heels, looking up at him, her pussy on fire. He was speaking, but the words weren’t making any sense. She wanted to suck, fuck, not talk. “What?”

  He tapped the cane against her ass, not hard, but enough to reignite the tenderness. “What did I tell you to do?”

  She tried to focus. What was the last thing he’d said? “Suck?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Did I tell you to do anything else?”

  She shook her head. No, there hadn’t been any words after that one.

  “Then follow the directions.” He gripped the base of his cock and bought the head to her lips. “Open your mouth.” She did as she was told and he slid inside. He held the cane against her spine, the wood was cold and smooth against her back. He took a fistful of her hair in his other hand and plunged deep into her mouth.

  She held on as best she could, her hands on his thighs as he pounded her throat. He grunted, fucking her mouth for his own pleasure. A few hard thrusts, and his grip tightened in her hair. The next moment, he was exploding down her throat, and she struggled to swallow every drop of his cum.

 
; When he was finally spent, he pulled back with a sigh. She wiggled, her pussy wet and heavy and ready for her turn to come. Would he fuck her on her knees? From behind? Would he pump into her again and again, until she was overfilled with every inch of his fat cock? Oh, yeah. She wanted all of that. Immediately.

  He touched her bottom lip gently, then ran his thumb up over her cheek. “Did you like that?”

  “Yes,” she said, bouncing with excitement.

  “Good,” he said, and then stepped back, out of her reach. “Spend the rest of the afternoon working on those jetés en tournant. They’re sloppy. And I want you to do that double tuck with your hands on your shins, not on the back of your thighs. You did the routine well, but you’re obviously still undecided about what you truly want. Let me help you make that decision. You are forbidden from touching yourself until I give you express permission otherwise.” He held up his index finger. “One goal, Christy. No distractions. You can’t win if you’re not committed. Do we understand one another?”

  Her pussy was throbbing. She needed to come. But the look on his face made any protests die in her mouth. Did she even want to take on this test? Was it worth it? She bit back the gnawing need and clenched her fists. Priorities. She looked up into his eyes. “Yes, I understand.”

  He nodded once and left the gym.

  Chapter Three

  Days passed. Nights came and went. They did drills. Cardio. Beam work. Hours upon hours on the uneven bars. Her vault dismount was so outrageous, it would take the gold all on its own. Every aspect of her game improved.

  But it was torture. He made sure that it was. She’d showed up the first morning and knew she was in trouble the minute she saw his smile. All day long he tormented her with blatant gropes and subtle caresses, spankings, and light taps of the cane. She barely made it through the entire workout, and the only thing that held her back was the sadistic twinkle in his eyes and her refusal to give him any satisfaction.

  She survived the day, but it was for the wrong reason, she reflected in her bed that night. She had not begged and pulled strings, called in favors and made promises, to travel halfway across the country just to fuck Kyle Weston. It would have been nice, and she’d still love the chance, but he made her choose. The decision wasn’t all that difficult once she finally accepted there was no way to have both. She went to sleep horny, but at peace with herself.

  The next morning was better. He still physically seduced her in grand and raunchy ways, but now that her focus had shifted, she found that his distractions weren’t really all that distracting. She was able to concentrate on his words rather than just his roaming hands. And listening to him speak, she started to believe in his message, in his faith in her endurance and beauty and power. As they worked, the whisper of fear began to fade from her mind, and for the first time since her injury, she felt totally free on the mat again, confident and strong. She still went to bed with a wet and needy pussy, but it didn’t matter so much anymore.

  And then the last day arrived. The end of it all.

  He was waiting for her in the gym as usual, sitting atop his pommel horse. “Since you’re leaving tomorrow and this will be the last time we work together, I’m going to give you a choice.” He looked her over, that penetrating gaze that always got her a little bit wet. “Would you like to train or would you like to come?”

  Very tempting, but she shook her head. “I want to train.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She raised her eyebrows. There was something definitely going on here. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He leapt off the horse, twirling the cane as he circled around her. “I admire your determination.”

  She laughed. “No, you don’t.”

  “Maybe,” he said and smiled. It was the first real smile she’d seen on his lips since she arrived. He was such a ridiculously gorgeous man, and that smile made her insides hum. “We’ll see how today goes.”

  She felt more naked before him today than ever before, his gaze dirty, indecent, and totally hot, but she also detected some admiration there, and her heart filled with pride.

  “You’ve done well,” he said, and leaned on the cane. “We’ve worked hard these last few days and your muscles need a rest before you compete in the final trial. We’re going to end our work with some inversion therapy.”

  She waited. No way was it going to be that easy. He put the cane aside and escorted her to the far corner of the gym to a custom inversion therapy table. A long rectangular metal frame rested in a triangular stand, the stand allowing the frame to pivot through 180 degrees of movement. Unlike normal therapy tables, this one had a long bar across the bottom of the frame with gravity boots affixed to the corners and wrist restraints attached to the top of the board.

  He helped her onto the device and locked her feet and wrists into the waiting cuffs. Her whole body was stretched out on the table, her legs wide apart, her wrists locked together above her head. Then, he gently tipped the frame 180 degrees so that she was upside down. She exhaled into the stretch, releasing the tension in her back, calves, thighs, shoulders. It was incredible, and she reached for the floor, her fingertips brushing against the mat, moaning in total ecstasy as she worked out all the kinks out of her spine.

  “Nice?” he asked, watching the clock on the wall. Being upside down for too long could be dangerous.

  She closed her eyes, safe in his care. “Really, really good.”

  He ran his finger along the outside curve of her foot. “Do you feel prepared?”

  “I do,” she said. “I get it now. No distractions.” She smiled, but it was a shame. He would have been a wonderful distraction. But, she made her decision, and it was the right one. “I was so caught up in other things—the injury, the hype of a comeback, my public persona—I forgot what was important.” She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Even upside down, he was pussy-pulsing sexy. “I won’t forget again.”

  He ran his fingers along her shin, stopping at her knee. “I didn’t think you’d make it, honestly.”

  “Oh no?” Her skin tingled as his hand moved along her thigh.

  “No, I thought you’d break by the second night, sneak into my bedroom, be waiting naked under my covers.” He caressed her stomach, her ribs, cupped her breast. “I almost hoped you would.”

  She had thought about it, almost that exact scenario. “Why?” she asked, teasing him. “Do you want to fuck me that badly?”

  “Well,” he said, dragging out the word as he slowly brought her back up to a horizontal position. “Mostly I wanted a really good reason to beat your ass red.”

  She laughed. “Like that ever stopped you.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not true.”

  She conceded with a grunt. He was right, everything he did had a specific purpose. And however uncomfortable it may have been, it was all to her advantage. Still, she didn’t have to like it or admit it out loud.

  He smiled. He knew. He ducked beneath the frame and her to stand between her open thighs. He held on to her cuffed wrists and then gently rubbed her forearms, her biceps and triceps, her deltoid and pectorals, her upper abs. “You have a magnificent body.”

  “Thanks,” she said, enjoying the deep massage, his firm, but tender touch.

  He ran his thumb from her navel down to her clit, and pressed the sensitive nub hard. “And a very wet pussy.”

  She sighed as he stroked her, allowing her arousal to heat her body from the inside out.

  His thumb moved in a tiny circle that made her toes curl uncontrollably. “How many times did you touch yourself without my permission?”

  “Not once.” And she was glad she was able to say that with pride and no regrets.

  “Why not?” He dipped his thumb into her pussy, just enough to tease, then pulled it out.

  She breathed out a shaky breath. He knew just how to make her throb. “Because
I made my decision.”

  “And what was that?” He slipped his index finger all the way inside her and brought his thumb to her clit.

  She couldn’t control the shudder that ran over her, but that didn’t mean she was going to give in. She smiled and met his gaze. “To follow directions and have some discipline.”

  He added his middle finger. “You sure about that?”

  Her hips jerked when those long fingers curled inside her. She fought back the heat and managed to maintain her smile. “Yup.”

  He lifted off his T-shirt, dropped his shorts. Her heart raced and her internal temperature rocketed up a thousand degrees. She’d wanted that cock for so very long, and her eyes fixed on it, on the deliberate stroke of his hand as he made himself harder. He stepped forward, pressing the head against her opening. “Shall we find out?”

  Animal lust drenched her cunt, and the competitiveness in her soul roared to life. “Oh, yeah.”

  He breathed out as he slid inside her. Her pussy closed around him, squeezing him tight. He pushed deeper, in all the way to the hilt. She clamped down on him, and was fiercely pleased when he groaned. He gave her an evil grin and set a slow, steady pace, stroking over every inch of her hungry, needy pussy. The embers that had been burning all week in her core exploded into a wildfire. She ached for release, but she was in total control.

  She lifted her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. She wanted to lick him, taste his flesh, sink her teeth into his hard muscles and ride him hard, but she was bound tight. The wrist restraints cut into her skin as she struggled to touch him. She moaned in frustration fueled by desire, and thrashed against the shackles, but there was no give. All she could do was grip him with her pussy muscles, milk his cock with every bit of strength she had.

  “Oh, fuck,” he breathed out. “You love my cock, don’t you?”

  It was her turn to grin. “It’s all right.”

  He pulled back, almost all the way out and then plunged back in again. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he filled her deeper than she ever imagined possible. He tormented her clit with his thumbnail, the pleasure so intense it was excruciating. She cried out, unable to help herself.