Page 77 of Sins of Arrogance

What fol­lowed was a dif­fer­ent game from the one we played that had made my mus­cles sore to be­gin with. Mick tested my shoul­ders, my arms, my in­ner thighs and my but­tocks.

By the time he got to check­ing my most in­ti­mate flesh, I’d given away the sore spots with my re­ac­tions. I’d tried to con­trol them, but the way he stilled each time let me know he no­ticed ev­ery mi­cro ex­pres­sion, ev­ery tiny hitch in my breath.

I was also re­ally turned on.

He gave me an all over body mas­sage, bring­ing me to a shat­ter­ing cli­max once my body was com­pletely re­laxed. Af­ter, he made me take a soak in a hot bath with Ep­som salts and drink a bot­tle of wa­ter while do­ing it.

I’d en­joyed the sen­sual mas­sage and the af­ter­math, but not as much as I en­joy when he binds my hands be­fore tor­tur­ing me with plea­sure. I crave it now. The way I can lose my­self com­pletely in his touch, in the ec­stasy he wrings out of me.

I don’t have to be “good and obe­di­ent” Kara. I can scream and beg and even cry and not for a sin­gle sec­ond does he take his in­tense fo­cus off of me.

Now. It wasn’t al­ways that way.

When I was too em­bar­rassed to pick a safe word, he in­tro­duced me to the traf­fic light sys­tem. Red for stop ev­ery­thing. Yel­low means I’m ner­vous, or some­thing is bor­der­line painful or un­com­fort­able. Green means go.

I yell “green” a lot with even more “pleases.”

I’ve only said red three times. The first time, I wanted to know what he would do.

He un­tied me (he’d used one of his silk ties that night) and grilled me on what I was feel­ing, but his hardon never abated.

I fi­nally shame­facedly ad­mit­ted I’d been test­ing to see if he would re­ally stop. He didn’t get mad. Not even a lit­tle.

He never gets an­gry at me.

And I don’t know how I feel about that.

I mean I try so hard to be per­fect, but no one is, right?

Any­way, he didn’t get mad.

He didn’t sec­ond-guess me ei­ther, when I said I wanted him to tie me up again.

But the sec­ond time I said red, I meant it.

“Fuck, Kara. Yes.” Ropes of Mick’s hot cum splat­ter against my neck.

He’s got my breasts pressed to­gether and slip­pery with lu­bri­cant for him to fuck. It’s al­most like hav­ing him in­side me and I love when he comes like this.

My body is on an over­load of bliss. I’ve al­ready come twice and if my hus­band fol­lows his usual pat­tern, I’ll have at least one more or­gasm be­fore he un­buck­les my cuffs.

He sits back, rest­ing lightly on my stom­ach and starts rub­bing his se­men into my chest. The first time he did this I got a lit­tle freaked out.

Just like the first time he tied my hands.

But now, I love it. I feel like we’re con­nected on a re­ally prim­i­tive level and that makes me happy.

He likes it too. “That’s right a stór. You’re go­ing to smell like me all night long.”

I love go­ing to sleep with the scent of him on me, but I don’t tell him that.

He’s play­ing with my nip­ples, slowly ratch­et­ing up my de­sire again when his phone rings.

“Bleedin’ hell.” He jumps off of my body and grabs his phone. “Yeah?”

I don’t know who he’s talk­ing to or what they’re say­ing, but Mick starts touch­ing me again. But it’s like he’s do­ing it sub­con­sciously; his at­ten­tion is on his phone call.

And I don’t like the way that feels.