Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
The voice he spoke with belonged to my Sir. To the man Neil would always be with me, though our real lives sometimes buried the dynamic. This was the side of my husband no one else saw, the side that was just for me, as my submission belonged solely to him.
I turned to look him fully in the face. There was no way I would let this be misunderstood. “I love you. And I want you. I really do. I’ve missed that connection we have. I’ve missed belonging to you. But a lot of stuff has changed this year. We’re both different people. And, if one of us doesn’t want that type of relationship, we can’t force each other. I will always be yours, Sir. And I will always wait for you.”
“A lot has changed,” he agreed. “But you will always belong to me, Sophie. And I will always want you.”
My heart pounded just at the thought of it, and the pulse beat in my other, more intimate parts, too. “So…maybe we should make a date? Make an event out of it.”
“I’d like to take you over my knee, right now, but you’re right. I think something of a celebration should be in order.” He grinned at me. “What do you say to tomorrow night?”
“That soon?” I chewed my lip. “Okay. We’ll tell Mariposa we’re going on a date.”
“And not to wait up.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“It’s going to be one of those nights, is it?”
He nodded slowly. “In fact, I think we should have a full negotiation this evening. Just so we’re both on the same page about all the devious things I’m going to do to you.”
Devious things, indeed.
* * * *
My heels clicked on the marble as I walked through the Pavillon. With only the natural light streaming through the windows, the place felt like a mausoleum, and I felt a stab of panic that whatever we’d had here was lost.
I went to the rack of canes. We couldn’t use them today; they hadn’t been oiled or tended to in so long, I wondered if we would have to buy new ones. Still, I trailed my fingers over the instruments. My sheer ecru lace and silk gown caressed my bare calves with every step. I closed my eyes, feeling along the curves of the ornately carved handle of one cane. I summoned the memories I had shut out during my last visit here, painting pictures from sights and sounds and tastes I’d experienced. And pain. Beautiful, unbearable pain, that had made my knees give out and my throat go raw from screaming.
Images rushed back to me—my Sir’s hand clenching around my wrists high above my head. His cruel smile as I lay on the cold marble floor, bruised and weeping, but ultimately so safe and loved that I cried not from pain or humiliation, but joy. I remembered the salt of sweat-drenched skin, mine and his. The taste of my own tears, the taste of myself on his cock.
“Sophie.”
Neil’s voice opened my eyes, and I turned. I hadn’t heard him enter. He’d been in the aftercare room, making sure nothing was missing. He came toward me, his shoes whispering against the floor.
“S-sir.” The word felt strange in my mouth, now. Would the familiarity return? Would this even work?
He saw the doubt on my face. He laid his palm on my cheek and brushed his thumb over my skin. Then, that hand slipped behind my neck and closed over my nape, bending my head back for his kiss.
My mouth opened under his. The desperate sound I made didn’t really come from me, but from Sir’s submissive, locked away for too long. I melted against him, and an arm encircled my waist to haul me up against his chest. His lips moved across my cheek, and his hungry mouth closed over my ear lobe, just before he said, low, “This dress is very…bridal.”
I leaned back just far enough to look him in the eye, meeting his sly humor with my own. “It’s Elie Saab.”
“Ah.” He took it as a warning, his lips twitching into the half-smile I loved so much.
“It’s last season.”
My Sir returned with startling force, spinning me in his arms and pinning me to his chest, gripping the neckline of the lace front and jerking down, hard. The fabric bit into my shoulders, then released as the bodice gave way, rending under the force of Neil’s strong hands. I gasped as it fell around my ankles.
“That isn’t the only beautiful thing I’ll ruin tonight,” he whispered against my ear.
My sudden nakedness chilled my skin, but his words kindled fire beneath it. He stepped back, and I teetered on my feet. He walked away, calling, “This way, Sophie,” and turned to take a few backward steps as he specified, “Leave the heels on.”