Page 115 of The Unplanned Wedding

"I love you, wife." I press another kiss to her lips, sweet, tender, and so soft. Her lips, her curves, the way she melts into me and parts her mouth so I can sweep my tongue inside and drink of her taste causes goosebumps to pop on my skin. My cock stabs into the crotch of my pants, eager to be released… But not yet. I pull back and press my forehead into hers. "You drive me crazy."

"I’m glad, Sir," she says shyly.

I stare into her eyes and find myself being drawn into the love I see shining there. "I don’t deserve you. I’m going to do everything in my power to always keep you happy, darling. Your smile means everything to me."

"And my tears?" She tips up her chin.

"Your tears mean even more."

She shudders, then pushes her chest into mine so I can feel the outline of her breasts and her hardened nipples. "They’re yours, Sir. Everything I am is for you."

I hold her close, then take the stairs two at a time. When I reach the landing, I turn toward the end of the corridor. The double doors to our bedroom are open and I walk through it.

Earnest, who’s placed our bags inside the closet, turns and walks back toward us. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. & Mrs. Davenport.” He smiles, then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I reach the large floor-to-ceiling windows and lower her to her feet. Together we glance out at the view. The place is on a cliff which gives way to a golden strip of beach. Beyond that is the sea.

"Whoa"—she leans forward and takes in the scene—"this is incredible."

"You can see the beach on this side, and if you walk to the other side, you can see the national park."

"It’s amazing!" She looks up at me, her eyes wide with anticipation.

I wrap my arm about her waist and pull her close. "What do you want to see first?"

"I want to explore the beach, and then the park, but—" She looks at the scenery over her shoulder, then back at me. "Would it be greedy if I said that, first, I want to explore how I can serve my master?”

My thigh muscles bunch. The blood pumping in my veins threatens to drown out every other voice of reason that I try to follow, telling me that I need to take it slow. That I needed to romance her, court her, make thisexperience beautiful for her, and it will be. Unbelievably beautiful. But the need to be her master in this moment outweighs everything else. To please her. To bring her so much pain, and even more pleasure, so she’ll never forget this evening. To have her here in a place that means so much to me, when she herself means more than the world, is the biggest gift I could ever receive.

"Are you sure about this?" I cup her cheek. "I thought you’d wanted to be romanced first."

"I do." She smiles a secret feminine smile that sends a flame of lust shooting up my spine. "I want to be romanced in a way a submissive is by her Sir. By her master. By the one person in the world who gets her need for every filthy depraved thing that he can do to her. To have you, the man I love and trust most in the world, also take me to the dark side. To have you touch that part of me that wants to be owned and made to bend. To have you push me to the edge of my limitations, to reveal that part of me I can only share with you, is the greatest gift you can give me, husband."

51

June

His gaze widens, those blue eyes I know so well turn into polar flares. Need leaps off of his body. The very air between us is saturated with a dense, thick, syrupy lust that threatens to knock my knees together and squeeze every last bit of moisture from my pussy. Then he schools his features into an expression of disdain. A curtain seems to drop in front of his eyes, blocking off the fierce passion that swirls below. His lips thin, and his jaw hardens. The very air about him turns from warm savannah to an arctic breeze. In seconds, he’s changed from passionate, loving husband to cold-hearted, sadistic master. I know both. Love one and revere the other. He continues to glare at me, and the force of his gaze is too much.

I'm not worth this attention. I haven’t earned his recognition in this encounter yet. I lower my eyes; then, because it only seems correct, I lower myself to my knees. I keep my head lowered, my fingers locked together in front of me, as I looked down at his sneakers. I’ve come a long way from the first time I kneeled at his feet and took in his polished Italian dress shoes. Today, instead of wearing a suit, he’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt.We’re both dressed in informal clothes. But we’re married, and he’s my master in every way, and I—I live to serve him. To please him. So, he’ll reward me with the most delicious orgasms only he can bestow on me.

"You will stay in this position until I’m ready for you." Without a second's pause, he walks away. My knees dig into the wooden floor. There isn’t even a rug under me. It’s not particularly comfortable. In fact, as the seconds pass, my knees begin to hurt. I shift my weight from side to side, but it doesn’t get easier. The sun's rays' slant through the window. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. I wipe it away, hear him moving around behind me. I hear the sound of a zipper and realize he’s unpacking the suitcases. Then, his footsteps thud across the floor. Is he putting away our clothes? This continues for a few minutes, and the entire time, the discomfort in my knees grows.

"You okay?" he calls out.

I nod.

"If you’d rather stand…"

He’s testing me. He thinks I’m going to give in and admit I can’t do this. But I can. He’s pushing my limits, and I can take it. I can.

"Whatever you wish, Sir," I say without turning around.

I sense satisfaction radiating off of him. He goes back to whatever he’s doing.

I stay kneeling, trying to ignore the way the bones in my knees are digging into the floor. I have to keep moving around to try to ease the pain. My thigh muscles tighten. A bead of sweat trickles down my spine. I keep my gaze trained on the floor in front of me.I can do this. I can.Footsteps approach. He walks around to stand in front of me. Once more, I see his sneakers. Then he reaches down and cups my cheek. "You can stand up now."

Relief rushes through my body. I try to straighten my legs, but my legs have gone to sleep. I begin to topple over, but he catches me and scoops me up in his arms. I sigh in relief to have the weight taken off my legs. I turn my head into his chest and draw in lungfuls of my Sir. That scent of rich tobacco and leather, laced with sandalwood, washes over me.

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