Michele Zurlo (22 page)

“That’s not a reason to sell.” Stefano took her hand between his. She rarely asked for anything but his attention, and she could tell he didn’t want to deny her this thing. “Samantha, I’ll buy you anything you want, but I can’t promise this. I can promise to look into it. We’ll call Jonas and Ellen and get the details. Okay?”

Samantha reached out her hands and cupped each of her lover’s cheeks. “That’s all I wanted to ask. I can tell you what I found out online, though you probably have contacts that can give you more detailed information.”

Rolling to her knees, she kissed Stefano. He took over, plunging his tongue into her mouth until she purred with delight. When he broke away, she offered her lips to Alexei. He pulled her so that she straddled him, lifted her as he kissed her, and brought her down on his cock before he released her lips.

Whatever information she had found out could wait until later.

If she had an iota of talent in the kitchen, Sabrina had no doubt he would have her preparing their meal on her knees. With as much decorum as she could gather, she sank to the floor wearing only a chastity belt with a remote-controlled bullet vibrator stuck inside her pussy. The bathroom floor was tile, as was the kitchen, but the living area and the bedroom she had to pass through were both finished in bamboo. At least that type of wood would be easier on her knees. The textured tile dug in unevenly, hurting even when she wasn’t moving. No doubt she’d have bruises on more than just her neck to show for tonight.

He didn’t give her a pillow as he had at Mistress Hera’s. She knelt on the kitchen floor, which thankfully was smooth tile, next to the island with the large marble countertop. She couldn’t see what he was preparing, but that wasn’t a concern. He was a damn good cook. Over the years her palate had evolved to match his favored flavor profiles.

Every time she sat back on her heels to relieve the pressure on her knees, he had her move. She followed after him, crawling around the kitchen on her hands and knees as he moved between the counter, sink, and refrigerator.

Every few minutes, he would hit the button on the remote to turn the bullet on. It would buzz away inside her until she was breathing hard, and then it would stop at a predetermined time. She watched the clock on the stove and estimated ninety seconds of torture for each round. It wasn’t enough to do more than tease.

By the time dinner was ready, she vowed to never use her smug, superior smile and tone on anyone with a title.

He carried their plates to the table. Sabrina was surprised to see him with two. She thought he would feed her from his as he had done that afternoon.

Then he pulled out a chair and motioned to her. “Sit. I’ll give your knees a rest while we eat. You’re going to need lots of energy for tonight.”

Relieved, she climbed into the chair without standing. He hadn’t technically given her permission to stand. She didn’t want to take the chance that he’d find fault with her and decide on another punishment. This was pushing her to the edge.

It didn’t put her in the mood for conversation.

“What did you think of the tripod the other night?” Jonas cut into his steak, not even bothering to look at her as he posed the question.

Sabrina picked up her knife and fork. She had no opinion on the tripod. While she hadn’t disliked it, neither did she feel the need to be suspended in midair again. “It was okay.”

Now he looked at her. He studied her face as he chewed and swallowed. “That’s not a very specific response.”

She shrugged. “The harness dug into my legs and compressed my ribs a little uncomfortably.”

He frowned as he masticated his way through another bite. “You didn’t say anything.”

He’d asked for her submission. She wasn’t supposed to speak or do anything without his permission. It seemed logical to assume he wasn’t looking to hear complaints or critiques. “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

He set his fork on his plate and held a hand out in her direction. She put down her knife and placed her hand in his because it was expected. She wasn’t sure she felt like holding his hand just then.

“Sabrina, you’re supposed to tell me whenever something is uncomfortable or painful. Sometimes I’ll expect some discomfort, but there’s always a line. I don’t always know what you’re feeling.”

She looked at her hand in his, at the perfect way they fit together. He surrounded her, cradled her without overwhelming her. Usually that was an accurate way to describe their relationship. She relied on him for so many things, most of them emotional and many of them physical. He was as necessary to her well-being as oxygen.

And he was pulling the rug right out from under her. She wanted to withdraw her hand, put it in her lap, and hide it in her other hand. Anything to assuage the uncertainty and turmoil within.

She didn’t always know what she was feeling, but she knew when she was nearing the end of her endurance. It was close. If she could just hold out for one more day. Giving him what he wanted made her happy. Usually that meant getting what she wanted. She had to come to terms with the fact it wouldn’t always be like that.

“I think I wouldn’t have liked it very much if you hadn’t flogged me. You’re very good at that.”

He flashed a brief smile. He knew he was accomplished with whips, canes, and floggers. He’d spent years honing his skills.

She scrambled to give him more of an answer. “I guess it’s like exhibitionism. It doesn’t turn me on, but it doesn’t kill the moment either. I concentrated on you and forgot about the crowd and the fact I was suspended from three pieces of wood tied together at the top.”

“The tie was for show. They were bolted together. I wouldn’t take that kind of chance with your safety.”

She opened and closed her mouth, stopping several trains of thought before she settled on a response. “I know that, Jonas. I trust you.” It wasn’t a lie. She trusted him. She just wasn’t sure how much she trusted herself. Before she always had him at her back to push her forward and tell her she was all right. Now he was asking her to remove herself from the equation. Wasn’t he?

Damn, it was all so difficult to sort out! She hated the way she felt so off-kilter. This was supposed to be a honeymoon and her birthday gift. She’d pictured lazy days at the beach and nights filled with sex. Well, she knew more than just her nights would be filled with sex. Jonas became amorous when she fished down her bra for a stray Cheerio. The sight of her on the beach wearing a bathing suit would definitely give him ideas.

Things had started out that way, which just made the progression of the week that much more confusing.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I wasn’t thinking of getting one for home. I think you enjoyed yourself, but it didn’t add anything new or special. Is that accurate?”

She nodded. He released her hand and went back to eating. She did the same. Several bites later, he smiled.

“It wasn’t easy to flog you around all those straps. I prefer to have nothing in the way so I can concentrate on you.”

That was so like something he would have said before they came to Elysium. Talking through a scene to find out what they’d both enjoyed and what they each felt needed to be changed had been a normal post-coital conversation. But this week, her issues weren’t with the sex. That was as good as ever. Sabrina’s heart swelled at this glimpse of the man she’d married. She returned his smile. “That works for me.”

The tension broke, and they conversed amiably for the rest of dinner. Afterward he removed her collar, the belt, and the bullet. Then he brought her a shirt for their evening check in with the kids, which he confiscated the moment he closed the laptop.

He drew her to her feet and slipped his arms around her, pulling her so close she couldn’t tell the difference between them. For the longest time, he held her. She realized how much she missed this simple act of affection and how much internal strength she drew from him. For the first time since that morning, she didn’t feel like the world had changed and left her behind.

At last he kissed her on the forehead. “Remind me of your safe word.”

“Onion.” She’d never needed to use it, but this bit of normalcy also served to steady her nerves.

She expected him to release her, order her to her knees, and make her crawl to the bedroom. But his lips just kept moving across her face. He kissed her eyebrows and her temples. He used his lips to caress her cheeks and her eyelids. By the time he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she was liquid in his arms. He mastered her, taking over her will with just the power of his kiss.

This was the kind of surrender she loved. It felt natural that she would give herself over to his physical mastery. It wasn’t forced or coerced. Though he didn’t ask for it outright, he made his expectation clear, and she reveled in surrendering to him.

As he ended the kiss, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. She snuggled against his shoulder and inhaled his unique, utterly male scent. “I love you.” It came out on a sigh of contentment.

He set her on the bed and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I love you, too, honey. Now hold out your wrists.”

She eagerly obeyed. He flashed her a pleased smile and turned to the dresser. White PVC cuffs, the birthday gift from Sophia and Drew, sat out next to the floggers and crops they’d brought from home. The suite came equipped with everything, but if Jonas had the option, he preferred to use his own gear.

Sabrina didn’t know why, but Jonas had always favored white lingerie and accessories where she was concerned. He said the color highlighted her innate purity. Whatever the reason, when she wore the color, he definitely took notice.

He buckled them around her wrists, but he didn’t bother with the matching pair for her ankles. Then he snapped them together. “That’s all you’re going to get tonight.”

She stared at the insubstantial bindings around her wrists. The material was bendable, but it didn’t breathe well. Jonas had left them loose, not enough to slip her hands free, but enough so that they weren’t suffocating her skin. They were lightweight and shiny, but they had no elasticity.

They’d hold her, but they didn’t make her feel like she was bound. Sabrina liked heavier materials like leather or rope, something firm that made its presence known. She frowned at them even as she noted that the white did look good against her skin. It gave her a little more of a rosy glow.

Jonas stripped off his shirt and climbed onto the bed behind her. He arranged the pillows behind his back so that he could sit up comfortably. “Go choose two paddles from the dresser. You may also look in the cupboard in the living room if you’d like.”

She hadn’t expected this. When they role-played, one of his personalities, Armand, liked to spank her. Another was very into bondage. He liked to tie her up and fuck her until she passed out. Then there was the virgin who needed repeated lessons on how and where to touch a woman. Save Armand, none of them, including Jonas, spent so much time on her ass.

Because she knew what was on the dresser already, she headed to the living room to survey that selection. The large oak armoire had many more implements than Jonas had ever used on her. Some of them were meant for the male anatomy. She’d seen them at Ellen’s and at Sophia’s homes.

In the paddle section, she found nothing new. There were only three. One leather paddle was long enough to hit both cheeks at the same time. That wouldn’t work in close quarters. Jonas was obviously expecting her to lie across his lap. The other leather one was the right size and shape, but they had a similar one in the bedroom. The last was small and round. It had an extra flap on it that would provide a loud sound to augment the small slap it would produce.

Frowning, Sabrina went back into the bedroom. Jonas waited patiently, his elbows propped on the higher pillows behind him. He didn’t appear surprised that she returned empty-handed.

From the dresser, she selected a short rubber paddle. It stung, but it had enough bounce so that her skin didn’t chafe, which meant she could handle more. Her hide wasn’t as tough as she’d like it to be.

As her eyes roamed the rest of the selection—there was only one more paddle—they came to rest on her hairbrush. She’d set it there earlier and forgot about it. The hourglass handle was made from tortoiseshell, as was the oval head. It was hard and smooth. She wondered what it would feel like against her ass. On a whim, she picked it up.

Setting them down on the bed next to Jonas, she knelt on the floor. Something told her that he hadn’t suspended her submissive role. In no way should she assume he considered them equals. That rankled, but she squelched the feeling. For a spanking from Jonas, she’d do just about anything.

“Ask for it.”

This, too, was the man she’d married. Tension drained from her shoulders. “Please spank me with these.”

He lifted the brush and turned it around in his hand, studying the smooth back and the boar bristles that kept her hair soft and tangle-free. “Interesting choice.”

For the first time, she realized he could strike her with either side. She wasn’t sure about the bristles, but anticipation coiled under her breasts just the same. “Do you approve? I could choose something else if you want.”

Jonas shook his head. “Get your ass up here.”

She assumed the position, her bound arms stretched above her head and her bottom in the air. Her legs were spread and her knees bent so that he could access every part of her. She liked this position immensely. Though she was vulnerable, she didn’t feel exposed. This was the kind of submission that made her feel complete. All her worries and all those nagging doubts drifted away. Only Jonas existed.