I ate it up.
Soaked in their love, I reveled in it all until it was almost time to get down to business. I was stuffed to the gills with so much Cuban food I didn’t know how I’d fit into the tiny outfit I knew James was going to make me wear. I wondered how the night would end.
To be honest, I looked forward to a little excitement with a dash of danger and couldn’t wait to see what kind of trouble James and I would get into.
James
“Rememberyour training and what I told you.”
It had been so long since we’d been to a club that I wanted to cover all the rules and regulations with her before we entered. I couldn’t have anything go wrong, or we’d be in a world of trouble.
The Doms here didn’t play.
This was their life, and many of them lived the lifestyle 24/7. They’d probably have a coronary if they knew I gave my wife free rein over everything in her life and only played from time to time because of our kids.
I’d dressed Izzy before we left, taking my time to make sure her outfit and makeup were perfect. The slinky black miniskirt covered just enough of her body but gave a hint of ass without revealing too much to be acceptable at Taboo. The bustier she wore pushed her tits up nicely, but it hid her nipples well. The collar around her neck was freshly polished and glittered in the overhead lights of the parking lot as she walked next to me, staring at the ground.
I pushed her against the building and slid my hand up her thigh and under her skirt. “This is mine, and no one else will see it or touch it. Understand?” I murmured against her lips as I cupped her mound, pressing her back into the brick wall.
“Yes, Sir.” She smiled and bit down on her lip, taunting me.
“I need you to listen tonight and pay attention to your surroundings for any information about Matías.”
She nodded quickly and glanced down at the ground when she remembered her place, in case someone was watching. “Yes, Sir.”
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that her calling me Sir made me hard as fucking granite. It was a high when a woman surrendered herself fully, but hearing the words come from Izzy’s mouth meant more because she didn’t easily hand over the reins of power.
“Good, girl.” I yanked the chain, pulling her lips to mine and crashing my mouth over hers. I dipped my fingers inside her panties, finding her wet and ready.
She loved the power exchange. It turned her on and always had. I remembered the first time I ever took her to a club after we’d played at the house; she’d nearly lost her mind with lust. I’d never heard Izzy beg before, but I could still hear her sweet moans of pleasure to this day.
I rubbed my finger over her clit, pushing her legs apart with my arm. “You want to come, doll?” I asked, but I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured against my lips and blew out a shaky breath as I plunged my fingers back inside of her.
My thumb grazed her clit, and her head tipped back, exposing her neck as I slid my fingers in and out of her without remorse. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Please,” she begged as her pussy clamped down on my fingers, sucking them deeper.
She licked her lips, just as turned on by the idea as I was.
God, I missed this.
I missed us.
The way we used to be before shit got so complicated. I needed to change that and bring us back to our center, keeping our relationship rock-solid and worshiping my wife the way she deserved.
“Later, if you’ve been a good girl—” I smiled against her skin, licking a trail up to her ear “—I’ll let you come.” I pulled my hand from under her skirt, licking her wetness from my fingers and groaning as her taste exploded across my tongue. Tonight would test my restraint just as much as it would test her ability to submit.
Izzy didn’t speak, just stared down at the ground with a hint of a smile on her lips. Wrapping the chain around my hand, I pulled her forward and toward the door. Her Jimmy Choo heels clicked against the cement with every step as she kept pace with me.
A small part of me regretted not being able to walk inside the club with my wife tucked under my arm. Although I was a Dom and there was no denying that, I was a man in love, and I was proud of the feisty little Italian spitfire I called mine.
The lobby of Taboo hadn’t changed much, with its dark walls, faint sound of music, and the smell of sex. A man, one I knew well, stood behind the waist-high desk, flipping through a book. He looked up as soon as the door closed behind us.
“James?” Hagan narrowed his eyes. “Is that you?”
“It is,” I said, stepping forward to shake his hand. “Good to see you, Hagan.”
