I was already liquid and aching.
It was the only word he needed. He was my Dominant and I was his submissive. It had taken me almost as long as we'd been together to learn that my submission was just as powerful as his dominance. Even more so in some ways. He could have my body, every which way, but I gave him the key with my obedience.
He held the blindfold as he took my face in his hands. His smile deepened as he leaned in close, brushing his lips across mine. "I love you, Leila."
Those words would never, ever get old. I was so filled with love, with lust that I felt like I could burst, raining cupid's arrows and whips and chains all over the place.
"I love you too."
The smile dimmed, the dark lash of my Dom pushing the romance stuff to the back burner. Whatever he had planned for me wasn't meant to be heartwarming; the things love songs were written about. This song would be a series of bleeps on the radio. A tantric mix of moans and pain and consuming bliss.
He was still waiting. I needed to say the words. Truly give myself to him.
I stood tall, like I wasn't butt naked. Like I didn't care that the whole world could see.
Let them watch our erotic scene.
Let them see how beautifully our bodies moved together.
"I'm yours," I said, hands by my side. Eyes locked on him for further instructions.
He softly traced the line of my cheekbone and his fingers swept my chestnut curls over one shoulder. He slipped the blindfold over the crown of my head and I took one last look at my husband before I shut my eyes. The loss of sight magnified my other senses. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. I could hear the buzzing of the city around me—and a ripping sound. I frowned when I heard it again and realized that it was Velcro.
Cuffs?
I relaxed as I felt the first around my wrists, both were bound and secured. My ankles followed suit.
I let out a little gasp as one of the wrists were tugged, and Jacob's hand steadied me, then turned me 180 degrees. My wrists were pulled again. He was leading me in the wrong direction. Panic flared in my chest. Our balcony wasn't that big. That fact was confirmed when I reached out and my fingers gripped the iron railing.
The strike was immediate and I had no time to prepare as his hand met the round curve of my ass. I knew my offense before he even spoke.
"Hands at your side."
The bitter sting vibrated over my body and I bit back my scowl. Not even all this time as his sub could dull my innate sense to fight. From his chuckle, he was glad that it hadn't.
"Do you trust me, Leila?"
I tilted my head to the right, toward the sound of his deep, rich voice. "Do you mean do I trust that you won't throw me off the balcony?" I licked my lips. "Yes, I trust you."
His hand smoothed over my behind, caressing the spot where he spanked me. "Good girl."
My wrist was tugged forward, doing the very thing he scolded me for moments earlier. I bit back the urge to address the contradiction. When my second was brought to the railing as well and my body was pulled forward, I had bigger concerns.
Was he tying me to the railing?
"Spread your legs."
Brain functioning slowed to a crawl as I stepped out wide. My body was electric, from my toes curling against the cement, to the goosebumps that rushed up my calf, and the welcome ache of the chilly air against my erotic flesh. And then there were his fingers, tracing up and down my spine, silent torture as he worked his way toward my behind.
"I'm going to spank you, Leila." The fingers tightened, kneading as he moved closer to the moist heat at my center.
"B-but..." My protest became a moan as he spread my cheeks. One of yearning. Suddenly, I didn't care that I hadn't done anything that warranted a spanking.
His fingers dove inside me, granting my plea, sending pleasure shooting to every nerve receptor in my body. My world, my existence was the rhythm of his touch. The way he drew in and out, the way I felt whole with him inside me.
And then he
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