I know this when I take away the vibrator and step around to peer into her dark, misty eyes.
She’s crying.
Not tears of sadness or upset. Tears of pleasure.
It’s all in the wild, aroused look on her beautiful face. One of the most honest moments we’ve ever shared as I take away the gag next and kiss her hard on the mouth.
“Are you ready to be let out?” I ask against her lips.
She nods, otherwise silent.
“Then I’ll let you down.” I reach for the binds to undo them and let my mia bella ballerina free.
NINE
Caelian
Nevaeh tremblesas I undo the binds. My ballerina has been left in the cold cell for far too long. Her soft skin and delicate frame feel like ice as she slumps into me. With the binds no longer holding her up, she can’t manage on her own. I scoop her into my arms and carry her from the room. Her eyes slip closed as if recognizing she’s free to rest.
I bring her up to the bedroom I originally held her in when I first bought her out of her contract. Pushing open the door to the ensuite bathroom, I set her down on the edge of the tub. It’s an antique, clawfoot bathtub that came with the ancient house. I’ve lived here for almost a decade and yet I’ve never renovated; I never even put Christmas decorations up before Nevi…
“Stay still,” I say, twisting on the faucets. I pour bath salts into the water ’til its warm and frothy. “Get in.”
Nevaeh cautiously lifts a leg into the tub, my hand grabbing hers to help her along. The gentle, almost drowsy expression on her face makes my heart twitch.
She’s so fucking beautiful, so fucking graceful even after the hell she’s been through this evening. The punishmentIinflicted on her.
“Are you sore?” I ask.
She nods. “My arms.”
“They were in the restraints for too long.” I’m as delicate as I can be with hands as large as mine.
There’s no time where our size difference is more glaring than when I take her aching arms in the palms of my hands. My thumbs press into the inside of her forearms and rub comforting circles into her skin. I make my way up the length of them, massaging and kneading. The same is done to her neck and shoulders and back.
Nevaeh sighs into my firm but gentle touch, sinking even lower in the tub.
Her long dark hair shrinks once wet by the water. Straight strands tighten into tiny curls. I marvel at how sexy she looks reclining in the sudsy water in her most natural state. Pure relaxation has softened her expression.
Her eyes close as she enjoys the soothing warmth.
I grab one of the loofah sponges and begin bathing her. The water trickles and splashes, providing the only sound in the room. Tension hovers in the air, our complicated feelings making for a loud silence.
I’m still furious with Nevaeh.
I haven’t begun processing her betrayal and what it means.
From the moment I found out she was gone, I’ve driven myself crazy analyzing it, and still I’m nowhere near done. I’m not even sure I’m done punishing her.
Even as I’m slow and gentle running the sponge along her body, I’m poisoned with thoughts about how I want to make good on my promise.
Make my naughty ballerina whine through a plug being inserted in her ass.
Kiss the tears off her cheeks.
Punish her in even more ways.
All of it would be deserved after what she’s pulled.
