Read Online Friday Afternoon by Sylvia Ryan - Free Book Online

out, “So how do you like it?” His spine straightens.
    He steps away and puts his hands on my shoulders. “You picked the wrong day to start acting bratty.”
    I should quit while I’m ahead. I’m not sure what comes over me, the summer sun, the willies in my stomach, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I stick my tongue out at him and give him my brattiest attitude. “You have to catch me first.” I turn and run toward the house, giggling and squealing like a toddler. At first, I don’t hear anything behind me, but then I do. The deep thunk of Levi’s footfalls follow me on the lush grass. I sprint through the back door of the house. It slows me down and he almost catches me there, but I manage to twist away and get a few steps in front of him. I’m all out sprinting down the hall to our bedroom and I hear the smack from the soles of his shoes against the hardwood floor. Closer, and then closer still.
    He rushes in the bedroom door, but I’m standing behind it, out of view. He’s lost me, and looks around quickly, searching. By the time his head turns enough that I’m in his line of sight, the handcuff is already snapped around his wrist. The other end of it is attached to the bedpost. His gaze meets mine, and then he looks down at his wrist.
    “What are you doing, brat?” His eyes blaze.
    “I thought it was time for you to fully understand what it’s like to be utterly relieved of control over your own body.”
    “Let me go.” He says calmly but with authority. His Dom voice. I snicker.
    “I’m swooning at your power and control.” I dramatically place my forearm over my forehead, tossing my head back. Then I force my features to turn hard as stone and I cast him my most icy glare. “Take your clothes off, Levi.”
    He stands there, unmoving. He’s thinking. I see the split-second flashes of thoughts tumbling through his mind. I’m capable of reading him as easily as he reads me. Little stays hidden after so many years of marriage.
    The merest tic is all I need to be able to distinguish between angry or just irritated, or the slight slackening of a muscle to differentiate between tolerant or indulgent. After all these years, everything is seen when looking. Irritated, he doesn’t want to follow my instructions. I’m sure I’ve thrown a monkey wrench into his plans for our afternoon. But after a few seconds, he toes off his shoes and removes his clothes, from the waist down. He doesn’t remove his shirt because of the cuff.
    I curl my lips and flash my best slow, wicked smile, open my bedside drawer and pull out a pair of scissors.
    Levi’s eyes fix on the sharp metal in my hand. His muscles are taut. He stands still.
    “You ask me to give you my complete trust. I want you to know what that feels like.” I step forward, aware I am vulnerable to his physical strength the closer I get to him. “It’s important to me you know.”
    His muscles relax, slump ever so slightly, as if caught. He knows he must submit to me today to gain insight regarding what he asks of me on a fairly regular basis and ensure I’ll continue to submit to him without resentment in the future.
    “Lie on the bed, Levi,” I order him, inspecting his body. His cock is not hard. He’s breathing heavily, huffing air in and out in long drags. He looks away from me toward the bed. “Do it.” I glare at him “Now!” I’m not fucking around, and he knows it. I use the exact words he spoke to me last Friday afternoon. “Bed. Now.”
    He climbs into the bed. On his knees, flashing me a slutty shot of his ass.
    “You fucking tease,” I scold. “You’re going to pay for that.”
    And then he growls at me, low in his throat. I reel my arm back and swing hard, swatting his ass with my wide-open hand.
    “I’m expected to ride whatever wave you want to give me and you refuse to reciprocate? You don’t trust me,” I accuse.
    He turns his head and meets my steely gaze with one of his own. I don’t back off or avert my gaze