“What I’m about to show you is gonna blow your mind and make your little Scorpio heart beat all fast and shit.”
“Oh, not just my heart, but my Scorpio heart? Okay. Let’s see what you pulled together in your Pisces mind to get my heart racing.”
“Yeah, because you Scorpios enjoy being all secretive, and you’re Madame President of the Secretive Scorpio Society.”
I laughed heartily as I followed him through a closed door. We were in a library. The three walls were painted a neutral blue/gray, with white trim. On the three walls were floor-to-ceiling bookcases made of gorgeous raw white oak. The fourth wall was floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on a small creek that ran behind the property. In the middle of the room hung a minimal but feminine chandelier. In one of the corners sat what I could only describe as an oversized bean bag chair. There were small tables on each side of the chair that each held candles, a bouquet of fresh flowers, and a picture frame.
I walked over to the closest table and picked up a picture frame. It was a picture of us on our wedding day. I walked over to the other table and picked up the picture. Me grinning in a cap and gown. I was holding onto my mortarboard because Jaxxon was hugging me from behind, and his face was leaned against it. He was grinning, too. The pride he felt for me was visible in his eyes. The love he felt for me was visible in his eyes.
I crossed the room and threw my arms around him. “I love it. Thank you.”
He enveloped me, pulling me into him. “But you haven’t seen the thing that’s gonna make you lose your shit.”
I pulled away and looked up at him. “What can top this? It’s a reading room.”
He backed away from me a little and dug into the pocket of his jeans. “It’s aprivatereading room.” He held out a key. “You can lock this door, and me or nobody else will have access to you, unless you allow it.”
My hand flew to my mouth, and I dissolved into giggles.
He kept talking. “Look.” He crossed the room. “It has a big ass walk-in closet. You can hide all of your . . . ‘secret Skyy shit’ in here.”
“Why do you know me so well?” I laughed, joining him at the closet.
He placed the key ring in my hand. I stared at both keys. I loved this man. He understood me like nobody else on earth. Usually, my need for privacy caused people to push harder to get into my business. They pushed hard to get me to ‘open up to them,’ which only caused me to shut down even more. Old boyfriends had accused me of being sneaky. But the man I married not only made me a reading room, but had a lock put on the door and the closet door because he understood my need to keep some of me to myself.
I dropped to my knees in a posture of submission.
“Oh shit. I knew you were gonna be surprised, but I ain’t know you were gonna crash out,” he said. “Damn, Baby. Look at you. Look at how you’re trying to show me your appreciation.” He took my face into his hand and lifted it. “You’re the most beautiful woman on earth, Baby, and I ain’t just talking about your face. Your heart is so pure and so sweet.” He dropped down in front of me and kissed my lips.
I let him do it, but then I put my head back down with my eyes to the floor.
He took the hint and stood to his feet. “So, what’s up, Baby?”
“Dick worship, please, Big.”
“You’re trying to give me dick worship with our mothers in the house? I don’t know. What if they hear you praising this dick? Telling me how good it tastes and how good it feels when I rearrange your guts?”
I didn’t care about any of that.
“Nah, but I’ve got something.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket.
A handkerchief? I thought to myself.
He seemed to read my mind. “I’m a dom, Baby. Stand up.”
I stood to my feet, and Jaxxon walked me over to the wall of windows. Before I could even focus my eyes on the view outside, Jaxxon was positioning the handkerchief over my eyes. Once Iwas blindfolded, his hands were in the waistband of the little knit skort that I wore. Then the skort and my panties were down by my ankles.
“Step out of these.”
“In front of the window?”
“Excuse me?” I could not only hear, but I could feel the change in his tone and demeanor.
I immediately stepped out of the skort and panties, while he held my hand to help me keep my balance.
Jaxxon had never punished me. There was no reason for him to because I was an obedient sub. So, it wasn’t that I was scared of him or scared of his punishments; my kink was submission. I liked submitting to him.
I’d been tough all my life—fist fighting my brother, my sister, and anybody in the streets who wanted action. I spent my youth bucking against authority. Told teachers off, cursed out bus drivers, walked out of employee meetings. I figured my brother wasn’t the only one with anger management issues. Mine just manifested differently. I had a history of disobedient behavior—a lifetime of fighting against people telling me what to do.
