He was going to get his mouth on her pussy and not leave for a very long time.

It was just part of her training. That was all it was. The fact that his cock was truly engaged was a plus in his opinion, but at the heart of it, having sex with Penelope Cash was a necessity. It would bond her to him, make her trust him so if everything went to hell, she would obey him without question.

It was time to start testing the fragile bond he’d begun to forge with his sub.

“Darling, you’re feeling better?” He opened his arm, silently requesting she come to him.

It left her with a choice—the brother she’d known for years or the man who’d held her, touched her.

She practically fell over herself to get to Damon. “I’m much better now.”

Wrapping an arm possessively around her shoulders, he looked back at her brother. He told himself the warmth he felt was all about a job well done. It had nothing to do with satisfaction that she’d chosen him. “Excellent. I was just telling your brother about how we met.”

She flushed sweetly. “He was my boss. It’s why I didn’t talk about it. He took a transfer so now we can openly date. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. Damon. His name is Damon.”

Damon held a hand out. “Damon Knight. It’s nice to meet you.”

Penelope made introductions all around. He put on his most charming face and managed to finesse his way out of the family situation in less than twenty minutes. After the dance he’d promised Penelope, he took her hand and made his good-byes, wishing Beatrice and her new husband all the best of luck.

The bitch would need it since he’d placed her on a Thai terrorist watch list, and she was scheduled to be picked up and questioned the minute her plane touched down.

She would probably get out of it. Eventually.

“I don’t understand why I have to leave my home.” Penelope’s fingers were threaded through his as they walked along Bishopsgate. The late afternoon sun was high in the sky, only the tiniest pinch of a chill in the air, but Penelope shivered.

He eased out of his suit coat, placing it around her shoulders before clasping her hand again. The weekend crowds were hustling around them and he didn’t intend to lose her.

She stopped, her hands on the coat. “Oh, I’m fine. I’m sure you’re cold as well. You don’t have to.”

He stared, not minding that he was stopping foot traffic. “Leave the coat on, Penelope.”

Her blue eyes were almost the same color as the sky and just as bright. “Is this one of those Dominant things?”

It seemed like forever since he’d had to truly train a submissive. Most of the ones he’d played with in the last few years already understood everything about the lifestyle. “It’s one of those polite things. What kind of household did you grow up in that you think a man should allow his female to be cold so he can remain warm?”

She pulled the coat around her, the material practically swallowing her frame. “My father was a college professor. I have to admit, he wasn’t big on manners per se. Not that he wasn’t polite, but he was often thinking of other things. Mum, god rest her soul, was a bit of a feminist.”

“Keep the coat on,” he commanded, taking her hand again and beginning to walk toward Liverpool Street. “And this is precisely why you’re moving in with me. We can’t have these sorts of arguments on the boat. We’re supposed to be a D/s couple.”

“So it is one of those Dominant things.” A cheeky grin curled her lips up.

Oh, she was going to be enormous fun to spank. “We’re going into intensive training, and that means I want access to you twenty-four seven until we get on that boat. I want you to get comfortable with the team I have backing us up. They’re Americans, so they take some getting used to. I especially want you to spend time with Charlotte. She’s going in with her husband as another couple on holiday.”

“She’s pretending to be a sub, too?”

Charlotte didn’t have to pretend, which made her practically perfect to help educate Penelope. “She’s Ian Taggart’s wife and his submissive. She’s also a well-trained operative. I brought her in to help teach you about the lifestyle. She can answer all your questions from the submissive’s point of view.”

She turned a little, her eyes lighting up in a way he believed they wouldn’t have before the incident in the washroom. She needed intimacy to open up. “When do I get my gun?”

“I’ve rethought that part of the operation. If you prove to me that you can use one, perhaps.” He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of an armed Penelope. She would just as likely shoot herself as she would anyone else. As though to prove his point, she nearly tripped on a perfectly even piece of the pavement. He caught her easily and then picked up the brooch that had come unpinned.

“Oh, sorry. I’m always losing things like that.” She pinned the brooch back on and steadied herself. She seemed to be having trouble with the tiny kitten heels she was wearing. Subs at The Garden were given the choice of stilettos or bare feet. He could guess which one Penelope would choose. But then he rather liked the fact that she only came up to his shoulders. It allowed him to tuck her easily against his body when he held her.

She turned and her handbag nearly took the head off a corgi. “Sorry!”

She might never get a gun. He pulled her away before she could kill a passerby with that purse of hers. “You evaded my question before. Why do you let those women humiliate you?”

She frowned, and he almost wished he hadn’t asked the question. “I didn’t want to cause a scene. It’s always that way with the Henderson side of the family. I still go to events because we’re related, but I try to stay away from her. She’s a bully. I don’t let her get to me.”

But it was obvious she did. He rather hated the sad look on her face. “And what on earth were you thinking to do with that tiny man?”

A ripple of laughter went through her. “He’s six foot, Damon. He’s hardly tiny.”

“He might weigh six stone soaking wet. I could break him with one hand.” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit thinking about what she’d said before. “Did that idiot really say you were too rough with him during sex?”

She turned the sweetest shade of pink. “Damon, we’re in public.”

He stopped at the corner. “Penelope, no one is listening. They’re off in their own worlds. We can safely talk about your very sad former fiancé. How did you meet him?”

The light changed from red to yellow to green. She kept up as he crossed the street, staying firmly in what Londoners called the zebra walk. “I met him through a mutual friend. We went on a blind date and didn’t hate each other, so when he asked again, I said yes.”

He was actually a bit surprised the idiot had managed to ask her. He would bet that Peter was almost as subby as Penelope. His e-mails to his fiancée showed a pitiful habit of begging to be forgiven for the most innocuous of flaws. His bride-to-be sent him text after text of things for him to do for her and vicious messages when he didn’t do them properly.

He and Penelope would have been a nightmare together.

She needed a firm hand and someone patient enough to retrain her to find worth in her own strengths and actions.

She needed someone who would teach her just how good sex could be.

“He wasn’t the right man for you.”

“Obviously not.” She frowned a little. “I don’t pine for him. But I will admit, it hurt that he bought her a ring. He wouldn’t buy me a ring. He said it was too expensive. Not practical. He was a very practical fellow. I think that’s what hurt most today. Everyone knew he didn’t think I was good enough for a ring.”

He stopped in the middle of the walk. She’d been honest. She likely would struggle to be anything else. His earlier intimacy had the intended effect. She had softened toward him and he needed to bring her even closer for his plans to work. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her against him, lending his warmth. “He’s an idiot, darling. And that cousin of yours will make him miserable. According to her texts, she’s cheating on him anyway.”

Her head came up. “You have to stop that. You can’t invade people’s privacy like that.”

“Of course I can.” He really didn’t see the problem. The means were there at hand, and the boys in tech were easily bribed with pizza.

Turning into Liverpool Street station, he glanced back and noticed she’d already pulled her Oyster card.

They walked toward the underground. Damon guided her to the Central Line escalators, placing her in front of him as the crowd rushed by on the left.

It was a long ride, the escalator on a steep embankment. He ran an arm around her waist. “Do you miss him?”

“No. I didn’t really love him. I think I just wanted to start,” she explained. She leaned back into him, naturally falling in to intimacy the moment he gave her the choice. How hard had it been for her to go without the physical affection she so obviously required? “I spent all my time studying when I was younger. My father pushed me to excel.”

She’d passed her A and O levels brilliantly. He’d looked through her school records. When she’d gone to university and proven her skills in languages, SIS had recruited her. She’d likely been a lonely girl trying hard to please a distant father. At school she would have been in the shadow of her showier siblings when it came to making friends.

It wasn’t a surprise she’d tried to search out a relationship.

He wondered if she knew Nigel had considered her for field training. Likely not. By then her mother had been diagnosed and she was considered too risky for a high-level clearance. Somehow her brilliance had gotten lost in the shuffle of daily work and poorly timed family issues.