Page 58 of Edging Obsession

She turns to my mother. “My face is shaped like yours.”

My mom’s voice catches in her throat. “Your gorgeous.”

Anja’s face flushes. “Thank you.”

“May I give you a hug.”

She shakes her head. “Please forgive me. I’m not ready yet. This is all so…”

“Of course. I understand.”

The boom of Miles’ deep voice shakes us all awake. “Why don’t you come to my house?”

29

Elisabeth and Anja exchange looks after Miles invites them to his house. He’s been on the sidelines for too long. At some point, my dominant man must take control of the situation. It’s in his blood. Miles suggests they come over for dinner tonight. This way, we have time to process everything and spend time to get to know one another. He’ll send a driver to pick them up around six. Because it’s Miles, we all accept it. I love this about him. He knows what to do and say, and his strong character has everyone in agreement without argument.

On the way home, my mom and dad glance out their respective windows lost in thought. At least they’re holding hands. We drop them off and head to his house. I’ve been quiet too. There’s so much to take in. Finding out my parents aren’t really my biological parents is a hard pill to swallow. They’ve been a constant in my life. Now, I meet a woman I resemble who doesn’t even speak the same language as me. Plus, I don’t know my father. On top of all that, the thought of my parents giving attention to their real daughter cuts deep.

Before I can think about anything else, Miles picks me up and slings me over his shoulder, carrying me into the dungeon area. He slides me down his body until I’m standing in front of him. When I’m close to him like this, I want to submit to everything and anything he’d like to do to me. Free my mind of the sadness and fear. By now, Miles has figured out the things I like, what makes me tick, explode, or what I shy away from. How much pain to inflict and sometimes not to inflict any at all.

His large hands work me out of my clothes while he remains fully clothed. It adds to my submissiveness.

With a gentle brush of the back of his hand against my cheek, he says, “You need something to divert your attention. To stop thinking.”

“Mmhmm. What do you have in mind?”

“You’ll see, Schatzi. Just give me all of you.”

Miles leads me to a leather swing hanging from the ceiling by chains. He sits me into it, feeding my arms through leather hoops, and cuffs my wrists to them before proceeding to slide my legs through the hoops at the other end until they’re supporting my thighs. My butt is on the edge of the seat, and I’m completely on display. The leather is soft, which has me releasing tension and focusing on my man, who lifts my right foot, kissing the arch and doing the same to the other. His actions are a paradox in this room where pain and pleasure meet in the most incredible ways. Where a spanking hurts yet relieves the mind of clutter.

His back is to me while he rummages through a drawer to reveal beautiful silver chains connected to a center silver loop. When I look closer, I notice rubber clamps at the end of each chain. Miles lays it over my stomach, leaning forward and giving me a deep, seductive kiss, while stroking up my abs, over my breasts, downward to my sensitive inner thighs. I sigh.

My half-lidded eyes watch him handle the silver chain, letting it slip between his fingers before feeding it over his hand.

He gives me the smile I fell for from the start—sexy and mischievous. “Do you know what these are, Schatzi?”

My face scrunches when I say, “Nipple clamps?” He nods. “What’s the third one for?”

His eyebrow rises. “For your clit, of course.”

“Miles—”

“Don’t make me punish you. Lay back.”

I let out a shaky breath, pressing my back into the swing. He stands between my legs, placing one clamp on my right nipple, causing me to hiss, and the other on the left.

My breath speeds up, and he places his hand on my stomach. “Breathe, Schatzi. Follow the pain.”

I do as he says. An underlining numbness creeps into the pain, making it bearable. Miles slides his finger down my abdomen, eyes locked on mine, placing the clamp on my clit. I scream so loud my throat burns, and my chest heaves up and down. He lightly runs his finger over my seam, and then wiggles between my swollen lips, sliding up and down my slit. My head shakes back and forth, whisperingno, no, no, while tears slip from the corners of my eyes.

“Say your safe word if you want me to stop. Otherwise, I’m continuing.”

Now I’m crying. I should shout out my safe word, except I want to see how far I can handle the pain. Pain is a fickle friend. Sometimes it keeps me company, dismissing all thoughts, and other times, it battles against the balance of pleasure, pushing me toward a breaking point.

Miles snaps me from thought with his tongue perusing my lips and blowing on my clit. It rewires my pain, which is still there, hiding under a blanket of arousal. My cries simmer into whimpers, then moans when he dips his tongue inside. Miles finds a rhythm of licking, blowing, and entering, bringing an orgasm to the forefront. My whispers,yes, there,andmy God Milesgrow with the intensity of my climax, and then I’m screaming and heaving loud like an animal. I’m twitching through the aftermath while panting.

When Miles stands, his face is wet, but he doesn’t wipe it off. Just smiles at his efforts and the outcome.

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