Jethro chuckled. “No, I don’t want to know physically. I don’t care about physically.” He sat on the edge of the bed, stroking my cheek with tenderness. “I know how it feels on your body.” His stroking dropped to my breast, not touching flesh but something so much deeper. “I care about what you feel inhere.” His fingers pressed firmer as if he could carve out my heart and protect it forever. “I want to know how your heart feels, your mind, your thoughts, your soul. I want everything. I want the truth.”
I gasped as his hand drifted from breast to pussy.
His mouth tightened as he pressed a finger inside me. “Tell me how this makes you feel.”
My hips arched, wanting him to push deeper, give me more. “I’m wet...”
He withdrew his fingers. “No.” Drawing my wetness up my belly and back to my heart, he murmured, “In here. Tell me. Go deeper than physical. Ignore mental. Tell me your deepest, darkest sensation.”
I trembled as his hand returned between my legs; his long, delicious finger pressed inside me.
I moaned. My head fell back as I clenched around his touch. He made me feel idolized and wanted, dropping all his barriers, driving me upward to a familiar goal.
My mind was a mess. I couldn’t understand the threads of racing thoughts. But he needed this from me, I would do my best.
Jethro crooked his finger, rocking. “Tell me or I’ll stop.”
Don’t stop!
“I—I feel heavy. As if I’m too full and filling more and more the longer you touch me.”
“Good. Go on.”
“Um...I feel weightless as if I’m exactly where I need to be. I’m confused and crazy and needy and hazy. But through it all, I’m excited.”
He grunted. “Fuck, that’s a turn-on.” Bending over, he kissed me hard. “Having access to your body isn’t what I crave. It’s access to your mind. Your feelings I can sense, but your thoughts I can’t. It’s the one part of you I need to own—in order to give in completely.”
I quivered as he removed his finger and raised the whip again, torturing me slowly with it licking over my skin. “Do you understand what I need?”
“Yes, I think so.” I bit my lip as he circled the bed, never stopping his incessant stroking with the supple whip. With every stroke, I forced myself to focus on how I feltinsiderather than how I reacted outside.
The physical was so much easier. My pulse thundered. My skin prickled. My blood raced. My core clenched. My body needed him desperately. And my libido scaled a mountain that terrified me.
But emotionally...I wasn’t prepared to go so deep. It was foreign territory to look so far inside. How could I truly understand who I was—not just as a woman or Weaver but as a human—a creature of breath and bone...of animalistic desires?
Were my thoughts normal? Were they acceptable? Was I weak or strong or broken? I didn’t know.
And Jethro wants to know...
On his second circuit, Jethro flicked the whip, striking my clit with a short, sharp burst.
“Oh, my God!” The intensity swooped hard, jerking my shoulders as a blistering wave of need spread from my core. The sweetest strangest buzz travelled through me. I became weightless all while heavy with colliding thoughts.
“Tell me how you feel,” Jethro purred.
I had no clear-cut answer, but I’d promised.I have to try. Closing my eyes, I focused inward. “There are too many thoughts to articulate. They’re all racing too fast.” Pulling on the restraints, I begged, “Jethro...”
“Quiet.” He dragged the whip up the centre of my body.
Every muscle bunched, preparing for the next strike.
He didn’t disappoint.
He struck me short and sharp on my bellybutton.
I convulsed, soaking up the decadent bite. One moment, my thoughts were tamed, untangling themselves from the twisting mass of nonsensical nonsense, the next, they were a jumble of madness.
“And now,” Jethro said. “Now, how do you feel?”
