her posture. But she remained still, her gaze fixed to a spot on the carpet she'd chosen earlier as she knelt on the bedroom floor, her hair loose and flowing down her back like he liked it, her body stripped of her clothes, bare to the gaze of her husband whose face she couldn’t see, but whose presence she felt to the core of her being.
Her heart thumped in her chest. She wanted to apologize for going against his wishes, for disappointing him, starting with her bratty attitude this morning when he'd announced he was going out to blatantly disregarding one of the rules she'd agreed to.
She could never offer herself to any other man the way she offered her body to Benjamin. She knew that now. In that sense, he was the Master of her body.
She sucked in her breath and blinked several times as her eyes stung with the realization. Her stomach tightened.
Truth was, her heart wasn't far behind. She would offer it to him if only she could trust that he felt the same thing for her.
He cared about her. That much she knew. The way he'd stood up for her with his sister had warmed her heart. Now she wanted to reward him the way she could. With her whole -hearted submission.
She should've trusted that he would fulfill his pledge to her always. She needed to learn to give her total trust to him.
She wanted to tell him all this—to share what was in her heart. But words always failed her.
So instead here she was, bare and on her knees, in a pose she hoped conveyed her remorse and capitulation more than any words she could conjure. Between her lips was the black leather paddle. She took shallow breaths through her nose, silently counting to stay calm. Yet every fiber of her body, every pore, every nerve-ending was tuned in to the man who still stood by the doorway.
He didn't say anything.
Was he angry at her? Pleased? What? She wanted to look up and see his expression. But that would negate the purpose of her actions.
She was presenting herself to him , ready for his authority, whichever form it took be it chastisement or enjoyment.
After what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds, Benjamin strode across the room. The door clicked shut. His dark trousers and polished shoes came into view and disappeared behind her. He still didn’t say anything. His spice surrounded her . She inhaled deeply, comforted by his familiar scent.
Soft hissing, a flow of warm air, and the chug of a train in the distance informed her that the balcony door was opened.
Fabric rustled. Foam sighed. Wood creaked. She pictured him sitting in his favorite chair, an antique red upholstered Victorian armchair he sat on to smoke his cigar on the balcony.
Glass tinkled and thumped on a dulled surface. The scratch and sizzle of a match and a sucking sound told her he'd lit a cigar.
"Come here." The quietly spoken words were at a baritone level that had her core vibrating.
Selina lifted her head and looked in the direction of his voice. As she'd imagined, Benjamin sat in his chair on the balcony puffing on a cigar. Beside him on the low mahogany table was a bottle of wine and a glass half full. Behind him the horizon was a mix of purples and orange above the roofs of the houses across the Thames as the sun descended for the night.
She hesitated as she grabbed the foot of the bed so she could stand. Though they had no neighbors on this floor or above to spy on them, if someone had a pair of binoculars they could watch from the bridge or one of the houses across the river.
"Crawl to me," he said, the gentle depth of his voice irresistible, his gaze connecting with hers and never wavering.
She sucked in a sharp breath. He really meant it. Somehow the way he stared at her encouraged her. She placed her palms on the carpet and started crawling. She pictured the grace of a cat as it padded across the floor and mimicked its movements.
Having Benjamin 's mesmerizing gaze on her naked body boosted her confidence. Her movement improved, becoming fluid.
Her heart thumped in her chest. She wanted to apologize for going against his wishes, for disappointing him, starting with her bratty attitude this morning when he'd announced he was going out to blatantly disregarding one of the rules she'd agreed to.
She could never offer herself to any other man the way she offered her body to Benjamin. She knew that now. In that sense, he was the Master of her body.
She sucked in her breath and blinked several times as her eyes stung with the realization. Her stomach tightened.
Truth was, her heart wasn't far behind. She would offer it to him if only she could trust that he felt the same thing for her.
He cared about her. That much she knew. The way he'd stood up for her with his sister had warmed her heart. Now she wanted to reward him the way she could. With her whole -hearted submission.
She should've trusted that he would fulfill his pledge to her always. She needed to learn to give her total trust to him.
She wanted to tell him all this—to share what was in her heart. But words always failed her.
So instead here she was, bare and on her knees, in a pose she hoped conveyed her remorse and capitulation more than any words she could conjure. Between her lips was the black leather paddle. She took shallow breaths through her nose, silently counting to stay calm. Yet every fiber of her body, every pore, every nerve-ending was tuned in to the man who still stood by the doorway.
He didn't say anything.
Was he angry at her? Pleased? What? She wanted to look up and see his expression. But that would negate the purpose of her actions.
She was presenting herself to him , ready for his authority, whichever form it took be it chastisement or enjoyment.
After what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds, Benjamin strode across the room. The door clicked shut. His dark trousers and polished shoes came into view and disappeared behind her. He still didn’t say anything. His spice surrounded her . She inhaled deeply, comforted by his familiar scent.
Soft hissing, a flow of warm air, and the chug of a train in the distance informed her that the balcony door was opened.
Fabric rustled. Foam sighed. Wood creaked. She pictured him sitting in his favorite chair, an antique red upholstered Victorian armchair he sat on to smoke his cigar on the balcony.
Glass tinkled and thumped on a dulled surface. The scratch and sizzle of a match and a sucking sound told her he'd lit a cigar.
"Come here." The quietly spoken words were at a baritone level that had her core vibrating.
Selina lifted her head and looked in the direction of his voice. As she'd imagined, Benjamin sat in his chair on the balcony puffing on a cigar. Beside him on the low mahogany table was a bottle of wine and a glass half full. Behind him the horizon was a mix of purples and orange above the roofs of the houses across the Thames as the sun descended for the night.
She hesitated as she grabbed the foot of the bed so she could stand. Though they had no neighbors on this floor or above to spy on them, if someone had a pair of binoculars they could watch from the bridge or one of the houses across the river.
"Crawl to me," he said, the gentle depth of his voice irresistible, his gaze connecting with hers and never wavering.
She sucked in a sharp breath. He really meant it. Somehow the way he stared at her encouraged her. She placed her palms on the carpet and started crawling. She pictured the grace of a cat as it padded across the floor and mimicked its movements.
Having Benjamin 's mesmerizing gaze on her naked body boosted her confidence. Her movement improved, becoming fluid.
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