Page 89 of Over the Line
“I may have to get a second job. Or maybe I should get her a companion? Another nuisance to entertain her?”
“Are you kidding me? And have more of them?” she asked, pretending to be aghast. Then she shrugged. “I have been thinking about a new wardrobe. I could accidentally leave out all my things, one at a time.”
“You may not like all my replacements.”
“You did pretty well on the red shoes.”
“At least she didn’t get away with the flogger.”
“That’s happy news.”
After another sip of his wine, he lit the grill. “Would you like to eat out here? That way we can use the kitchen table for fucking.”
Her mouth dried.
Once they’d cleaned up after dinner, she learned how serious he was.
“Go change,” he said. “I’ve pretended to be a gentleman long enough. My inner Neanderthal is done being polite.”
She looked at him.
“Move it, my girl. Now.”
“Yes, Sir.” Hurrying her along, he slapped her rear.
Upstairs, she quickly stripped. Then all thoughts vanished when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
There were a few faint red marks on her skin, most of which she suspected would be gone by tomorrow.
Small indentations remained on her thighs and wrists from his bondage. The reminder of being tied to the fence and flogged beyond reason thrilled her.
She paused.
At some point while she’d been outside, bound and gagged, subjected to a dozen strands simultaneously lashing her body, she had stopped thinking.
Now, she tried to remember everything that had occurred. He’d been striking her belly, and an unusual peace had washed over her. Right after that, they’d made eye contact, then…
Nothing.
It was as if she’d drifted away.
She couldn’t remember what had happened between then and the moment he’d instructed her to open her mouth so he could remove the gag.
Once he’d loosened her arms, he’d swept her from the ground and carried her to a chair. This meant he’d somehow unfastened her legs without her realizing it.
Was it possible she’d reached subspace? She’d heard about that magical place, something she’d believed was nothing more than mythical fantasy. In fact, when she and her friend, Vanessa, had been having a discussion about it a year or so ago, Sydney had insisted it was a chupacabra, the legendary creature of folklore that people had heard of, but no one had ever seen.
But now…?
All she knew was that she’d felt groggy, as if she’d been in a deep sleep or had been plunged into an alternate reality.
The orgasm afterward, with the plug, had left her speechless.
As annoyed as she’d been prior to that, she hated to admit that he’d been right to keep her on edge. When she’d finally come, the sensation had been more intense than anything she’d experienced before.
Master Michael had taken her to unexpected, dizzying sexual heights. Every moment they spent together made her crave more.
As she shimmied into the skirt and zipped the jacket, she heard him moving around downstairs. He could wield a flogger and a spatula. Could a man be any more perfect?