He collapses beside me.I lace our fingers.We heave and laugh.Ears buzzing.Mind swimming.I close my eyes to enjoy the aftermath better.
Shelby plants a kiss on my belly button.“I’ll be right back.I need to clean up this mess.”
I roll onto my right side to watch his firm butt as he disappears inside the apartment.
“Why did he ignore the washroom out here?”I ask the wind.
My answer comes moments later when he returns carrying towels, a bottle of lotion, and some metallic trinkets I can’t make out from here.He deposits the tiny objects on a chair away from me.I strain my neck trying to decipher them.I huff in frustration when I’m not able to.
Shelby presses the warm, wet towel to my body, rubbing off the evidence of our mutual ecstasy.He shakes his head at me.“Patience, pet.You’ll understand it all in a little while.”
15
Serena
The penthouse rooftop terrace stretches out before us like a private kingdom suspended between earth and sky.The late afternoon sun casts everything in golden light, and below us, Boston sprawls in all its urban glory, indifferent to the fact that my entire world is about to shift on its axis.
Shelby stands over me, his cock jutting proudly from the dark hair at his groin.The scars on his shoulder, where the Russian bullet tore his flesh, catch my attention.The wound has healed, leaving visible marks.I reach up to trace the ragged design with my fingertips as he finishes his aftercare routine, applying lotion on my skin to avoid abrasions.
He cuffs my wrists, pulling me to stand again.Wearing only my black Louboutins and black silk top, I suddenly feel awkward, so I drop my eyes to the marble floor.
“I’m up here, pet,” he whispers, lifting my chin.I lock eyes with him, feeling like I’m drowning in his blue stare.“Good girl.”
He runs a finger along the collar of my loose blouse.He moves down the front playing with the spaces between buttons, without undoing them.He leans to press his lips on my neck, and at the same time, his fingers find my breast over the thin fabric.He rolls the nipple between his fingers while sucking a spot under my ear.
“God!”I moan, grabbing his broad shoulders to keep from falling because my legs won’t obey me.
“My naughty pet isn’t wearing a bra,” he murmurs, licking the shell of my ear, his breath fanning the tiny hair on my neck.
He slides both hands now under the blouse to caress me.His lips move toward mine, and his thumbs flick my nipples.
Despite the haze of pleasure disrupting my thought process, I manage to put a sentence together.“I like the sensation of silk against my skin.”
Stepping back, he smiles when I moan a protest for losing his touch.“And how much do you like this blouse?”
I frown, as my dopamine-addled brain tries to find an answer to his strange question.“What?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he admonishes.
“Sorry, sir.”
He tugs at the two hemline tips where they meet in the front.“Answer me.”
“I like it a lot, sir.”
“I’ll buy you a dozen new ones,” he promises.
With a swift, unexpected flick of his wrists, Shelby tears my silk blouse.Buttons fly everywhere, but he keeps applying pressure until the expensive fabric rips, as if his patience has finally snapped.He uses the shredded pieces to tie my hands together gently but firmly.
“You okay?”His voice drops, all dominance shifting to concern for a moment.
“More than okay,” I breathe.
I’m still bewildered, but excited to see where he’s going with this.
“You fantasized about me tying you up, pet?”
“I did, sir.”
