I obey, even though I don’t really want to. I’m a mess. Tears, snot, sweat. All hot and flushed. My throat is raw from screaming, and my ass feels like it is on fire.
Carlo’s eyes are luminous. Naked. Exposing his soul. His love for me has never been clearer or more apparent.
He inhales sharply. “You have never looked more beautiful.”
Fresh tears fall down my cheeks. This is so perfect, so magical. There really are no words to describe it.
The handcuffs beep and click loudly. We both flinch.
I stare down at them dumbly for a moment. Is it that time already? Has it really been that long?
The butt plug pulses. I gasp and shudder. Arousal is still swirling through my body and soul.
“Take the handcuffs off,” Carlo says gently.
Numbly, I follow his instructions, and allow the heavy cuffs to fall on the floor with a loud thud that sounds far too final.
“Good boy. Now take the plug out.”
The butt plug falls silent and still. It’s like losing my oldest and dearest friend. This is terrible. Our magical evening can’t be ending already, it’s too soon. And far too long until I’ll be able to orchestrate this again. It takes a lot to get Carlo angry with me, because he loves me so much.
The dead plug thuds on the floor next to the cuffs. It feels like I should say some words, find a fitting eulogy.
“Ginni.”
I look up.
Carlo’s eyes are dark. His mouth set in a stern line.
“Put my cock in your tight little ass and ride me until I pump you full of my cum.”
I blink. My heart thumps. My tummy does a cartwheel. I stare at him a moment to make sure I heard him right. He nods at me with a ‘get on with it gesture’ and I shriek with delight.
This is my new favorite day ever.
Chapter seventeen
Carlo
“Massage time!” Ginni announces suddenly, bouncing up from where he’s been curled against my side like a contented cat.
I blink at him, still muzzy from the post-coital haze that’s been keeping me floating in a state of satisfied exhaustion for who knows how long.
“What now?”
I’m not sure I can keep up. I’m getting whiplash from my changing emotions. After the stunt with the livestream, I was ready to kill him. But then came his unique style of apology, and I was utterly swayed.
I’m really not sure I can cope with anything else today.
“You need a full body massage,” he declares with the authority of someone who’s just made a medical diagnosis. “All this lying in bed is going to cause muscle atrophy if we’re not careful. Plus, you’re getting tense again in your shoulders.”
He’s not wrong about the tension. Despite the relatively comfortable bed and Ginni’s devoted care, spending days chained in the same position is starting to take its toll. My back aches, my shoulders are stiff, and there’s a persistent knot between my shoulder blades that’s been bothering me since yesterday.
“I’m fine,” I grumble, though even as I say it I can feel the tightness in my neck when I turn my head.
“No, you’re not,” Ginni says firmly, already moving to rearrange the pillows. “You’re carrying tension in your trapezius muscles, your deltoids are knotted, and I can see the stress lines around your eyes. Roll over onto your stomach.”
I stare at him. “You want me to do what?”
