Page 27 of Rediscovering Rubi

“And appreciating every single moment, darlin’,” he interrupted. “Every beautiful inch of your body.” He ran his hands down her sides. “Every bit of your gorgeous, silky skin.”

He leaned in closer, until his mouth was so close to her ear, she could feel the warmth of his breath. “And I plan to mark your lovely skin. I plan to leavemy mark, so you’ll know how much you mean to me. So every time you feel the soreness I plan to leave you with, you’ll feel how you belong to me.”

His murmured words were making her tremble with need, but a part of her couldn’t stop thinking about him looking at her reflection on every wall of the room.

“Logan, the idea of you seeing me like that…”

“I know, baby. That’s why we’re here. I know you’re all in your head about this. But I know what I’m doing. Do you trust me?”

“Of course” she replied automatically.

He pulled back, cupping her face once more. “No. Don’t answer by rote. Do you trust me to take you through this experience tonight? To appreciate you every minute you’re under my hands, submitting to me? To find beauty in every single moment with you?”

She swallowed hard, emotion clogging her throat. She knew she could trust him—it was trusting herself that was the problem, she realized. But if she got nervous she could always repeat the mantra Catherine had given her.

She nodded. “Yes. I trust you, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl. Now, let’s do some breathing.”

He placed his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “Focus on me, on my face, my eyes. Now draw in a good, long breath. Yeah, and hold it. And now blow it out slowly. Good. Again.”

He took her through the exercise five or six times, then he told her, “Now I want you to let it all go. Fall into my eyes, babygirl. Fall into my breathing. Into my hands.”

She gave a quick nod, then did as he said, following his breathing; in, then out, her gaze locked on his. His eyes were wide and dark, the brown and gold of the iris getting lost in the pupils. There was so much depth there. It was as if she couldfeelhimmore and more the longer she focused.

She was vaguely aware of her muscles loosening all over her body, the breathing becoming almost automatic, guided by his. And somehow she’d drifted into subspace, bit by bit, so that when he guided her to the long, padded table and unclasped her bra, all she felt was the air whispering over her hardening nipples.

He didn’t say a word as he slipped her panties down her legs, then helped her to step out of them, leaving her in nothing but her high heels. Then he lifted her onto the table and gently pushed her onto her back before fastening first her wrists, then her ankles into soft leather cuffs mounted at each corner of the high, vinyl-covered table.

He bent to kiss her lips, softly at first, then he pressed harder, his tongue slipping into her mouth. He pulled back to lick and nip at her lower lip, which he knew she always loved, and with every touch her body heated more, became more pliant.

“Stay right there,” he ordered.

She held perfectly still as he moved to a small table to one side and lit a candle, then he turned back to her and started to gently stroke her body. He ran his hands down her arms, over her calves, then up the length of her thighs, and her pussy clenched when he reached that tender skin where thigh joinedhip. But before it got too intense, he stopped and turned away. When he turned back, he held the candle, a small votive in a glass container.

She didn’t even have time to wonder before he tipped the candle and spilled a small pool of the heated wax onto her stomach.

“Ohhhh!”

“What color are you, baby?”

“Mmm, green, Sir. I like it.”

He ran his hand over the cooling wax, holding it there for a few seconds before sliding it down to her mound. He pressed down there, just enough that her pussy felt the lovely pressure. He kept his hand there, pressing, then releasing, then pressing again as he spilled the wax over her ribcage.

“Oh! Mmm, yesss…”

It was hot, but not burning; just enough to bring a small amount of pain. And there was something incredibly sensual about it at the same time. So sensual, helped by the rhythmic pressure against her clit.

He set the candle down and grabbed something else from the table. “Time to blindfold you, Rubi.”

He slipped a black satin blindfold over her eyes, and immediately she felt better. Safer, somehow. And more in tune with her body as he slid his hand up to caress her breasts, first one, then the other. His hands felt so good on her, raising goosebumps everywhere he touched. Then he began to roll one nipple between his fingers, lightly at first, then harder and harder, pinching the tender flesh, then pulling on it before rolling and pinching once more until need drove through her in sharp flashes that heated her up inside, her pussy throbbing.

Her nipples had always been incredibly sensitive, and she loved when he did this. Even more now that she was blindfolded,the world narrowing in focus to nothing but sensation, the scent of the burning candle, of her husband beside her.

Her nipple grew so incredibly hard under his fingers, and her pussy grew wetter; she could feel her clit swelling as pleasure rolled through her body. She was sinking into sensation, her mind beginning to float when he pinched her nipple firmly at the base, and poured the hot wax onto the hardened tip, and it stung like crazy.

“Ouch!”

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