"You're so beautiful like this," he breathes.
"Like what?"
"In control." His arms strain against the restraints, like he wants to touch me so badly he might break free through sheer will. "Powerful. Taking what you want."
His words push me higher, and I move faster, chasing my own release. The velvet beneath my knees is soft, the candlelight warm, the music pulsing through the cellar like a heartbeat. Everything is a sensation—his cock inside me, his eyes on my face, his voice telling me I'm beautiful.
"I'm close," I gasp.
"Then come." Even tied up, even denied, he can't help trying to give commands. "Come on my cock, Seraphina. Let me feel you."
The orgasm builds from deep in my core, coiling tighter with every roll of my hips. I'm chasing it, riding him harder,faster, using his body to push myself over the edge.
When I come, it's with his name on my lips.
The pleasure crashes through me in waves, my inner walls clenching around him, my whole body shuddering with the force of it. I hear him groan beneath me, feel his hips jerk up as much as they can, feel him fighting not to follow me over.
Because he knows he doesn't have permission.
I ride out the aftershocks, my rhythm slowing, my breath coming in ragged gasps. He's still hard inside me, still desperate, still denied. The thought makes me smile.
"Please." It's barely a whisper. "Seraphina. Please."
I look down at my husband—this man who has given me so much pleasure, so much love, so many incredible experiences.This man who planned an entire Valentine's Day kidnapping just to make me feel desired. This man who, even now, is letting me have this power over him without complaint.
He's given me everything tonight. It's time I gave him something back.
"Come for me," I whisper, and start to move again.
It doesn't take long. After all the edging, all the denial, he's so primed that a few more strokes are all he needs. I feel him swell inside me, his whole body going rigid, and then I hear my name tear from his throat as he finally—finally—lets go.
The orgasm seems to last forever, his cock pulsing inside me, his hips bucking against my weight, his voice breaking on sounds that aren't even words. I've made him come before, countless times, but never like this. Never with him so completely undone.
When it's over, he sags against the chaise like all his strings have been cut.
I collapse on top of him, both of us breathing hard, neither of us capable of speech. His heart is racing beneath my ear, and mine is doing the same. The cellar is quiet except for our ragged breaths and the soft music still playing in the background.
After a long moment, I reach up and release the restraints.
His arms come down immediately, wrapping around me with a desperation that makes my chest ache. He holds me so tight it's almost hard to breathe, his face buried in my hair, his whole body trembling.
"Are you okay?" I ask softly.
"I don't know." His laugh is shaky. "I think you broke me."
I lift my head to look at him. He's still wearing the mask, and so am I. We should probably take them off now but neither of us moves to do it.
"Good broken or bad broken?" I ask.
"Good." He cups my face with one hand, his thumb stroking across my cheek. "Definitely good.”
We lie there tangled together, both wrecked in the best possible way. The candles have burned low, the music has shifted to something softer, and the world outside the cellar has ceased to exist.
"I can't believe you drugged me," he says suddenly, and when I look up, he's grinning.
"I can't believe it worked." I prop my chin on his chest. "I was so nervous. I thought for sure you'd figure it out before the sedative kicked in."
"I was too busy feeling smug about my brilliant plan." He shakes his head ruefully. "I walked right into it."
