Page 58 of Absolution
When we arrive back at our house, I expect Dane to carry me up to our bedroom. But, to my surprise, we’re heading down to the home gym in our finished basement.
“What are we doing down here?” I ask.
He releases a low, sexy hum. “You’re going to fly for me tonight, little dove.”
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I glance around the gym in confusion. The first thing I note is that Dane’s punching bag is missing. In its place, a large metal ring hangs from the ceiling, and a thick wrestling mat has been placed directly below it. Several thick coils of rope have been laid out on the mat.
“I don’t want to fight you tonight,” I admit. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
We haven’t had sex at all since my memories of abuse surfaced. Every night, my husband has held me in our bed, but he hasn’t claimed my body in the way we both desire.
I’ve been too scared that I’ll freak out and spoil our connection.
He sets me down on my feet directly below the ring and presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s not what I have planned. Only pleasure for you tonight, my queen. And the perfect amount of pain. Say the word, and everything will stop.”
My heart tugs with longing. “I want you,” I promise. “More than anything. But I’m afraid of how I might react. I don’t want any of those awful memories to ruin things between us.”
His jaw firms, but his hand is achingly gentle in my hair. “Nothing could ever ruin what we share. All I want is to worship your body and show you how proud I am to call you mine. I won’t push you if you’re not ready.”
I stare up into his verdant eyes for several long seconds. With each heartbeat, my need for him pulses through my body. My core flutters with the beginnings of desire, and I resolutely keep my full focus on him so that dark thoughts won’t assail me.
“I trust you,” I vow.
He peers straight into my soul. “I will never betray that trust.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
His hand slides through my hair, cupping my nape. He holds me in a firm but careful grip as he slowly lowers his mouth to mine, gauging my response. I push up onto my toes and meet him halfway, offering myself to him.
Our kiss is slow and tender, almost cautious. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entry. I part them on a soft sigh, welcoming him to deepen his claim. He strokes into my mouth, shallow forays at first. Then with greater confidence as I melt against him. I twine my arms around his shoulders, anchoring myself to him in case I get swept up in a storm of tumultuous emotions.
But all I experience is familiar, sweet lust pulsing through my body. My fingers flex into the back of his neck, drawing him closer. I tilt my hips against his hard thigh, tentativelystimulating my clit. A soft wave of pleasure washes through me, and I breathe him in, reveling in his unique, salt-kissed cedar scent. Comfort blankets me, warming my desire.
Safe.
I open myself to him, entrusting my body to his masterful hands. He already has my heart and soul.
His deft fingers begin to toy with the delicate zip at the back of my purple satin dress, teasing between my shoulder blades. He waits until I’m panting against him before slowly dragging it downward. The silky material falls open to expose my back, and he reverently traces the line of my spine.
Sparks dance beneath his soft fingertips, and I press myself deeper into his arms, urging him to strip me.
His thumbs hook beneath the delicate straps at my shoulders, and he eases them down my arms. The slinky dress slides down my body, and my sensitive flesh draws tight with goosebumps as every inch of my skin sparkles and dances for him. It drops to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my lacy black thong. He drags the lingerie down my legs, and I eagerly step out of it, conveying my willingness with every move.
“Stay,” he murmurs against my lips.
I nod, ready to accept the pleasure he’s offering.
And the perfect pain he promised.
Cool air closes around me in the absence of his embrace, heightening my skin’s sensitivity. I shiver in anticipation and watch with rapt focus as he retrieves a length of rope. He frees the coil with a flick of his hand, and I jolt at the sharp, warningsnapof the rope against the padded mat beneath my feet.
“I’m going to bind your beautiful body now,” he says, voice deep with his own desire. “But your hands and feet will be free. You won’t be restrained until I’m ready to suspend you.”
“Suspend me?”
His lips curve in a lust-drunk smile. “I told you that you’re going to fly for me, little dove. You’ll float in my ropes.” He blinks, and his expression firms to something more serious. “Are you ready for that?”
I swallow hard and choose to focus on the pleasant warmth that still floods my body. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’m ready. I want it, Master.”
