For the next ten minutes, I keep her at altitude by applying a heavier smack with the flogger every minute or so and then continuing with my massage. In truth, I’m as desperate for the contact with her flushed skin as I’m hoping she is. If her satisfied moans are anything to go by, she’s loving every single thing happening to her.
When I check her face next, she looks even further gone and I know it’s time. Higher impact, another intense five-minute push. I switch out the flogger for a cane and start to stripe her ass, up and down.
She jerks and groans with every strike, her body trembling and pussy suctioning and slurping and making fucking pornographic noises around the vibrator as it thrusts in and out of her.
At the end of the five minutes I toss the cane away and pick up the small pocket vibrator, switching it on and moving to her side. I reach underneath her hip, around to her clit.
She jolts and cries out in ecstasy the moment I make contact. I bend over her body and hold onto her ass, one finger curving towards her hole. I want to touch every inch of her possible.
“Break for me,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to her ear. “Break for me and give me everything.”
She howls and shudders as her orgasm breaks, tears streaming down her cheeks in huge rivulets.
“That’s right,” I murmur, bending even closer. “Yes, that’s so good. Don’t hold back. Give me it all.” The whole time I keep mercilessly at her clit and she howls from the bottom of her lungs.
She’s magnificent. I’ve never in my life seen or even experienced such a pure exaltation of pleasure and abandon. But I experience it through her. With her.
I don’t know how long it goes on but it feels like forever, and at the same time, over far too soon.
But when she’s limp and laying crumpled over the bench, I know she’s had enough. I hurry to turn off the machine and slowly, gently disengage it from her drenched, dripping pussy and roll it backwards.
I’ll come back for cleanup and sterilization later.
Right now she’s the most important thing.
Swiftly I untie the soft shibari ropes and free her. She continues lying limp against the bench even though I’ve released her.
Holy shit, I really took her there, didn’t I?
And I know what comes after is every bit as important. Gods, she’s gorgeous when she’s like this. As magnificent as she was howling in the heights of her pleasure, subdued and limp in the aftermath, she glows with a purity that stabs me through the chest.
This is Daphne. My Daphne.
The woman who knocked me off my ass the first time she came strutting down the beach in a red bikini. The woman who laughed with me and teased me and splashed in the water with me all one glorious summer. The woman I held in my arms after her mother died and her world fell apart.
This is Daphne.
The woman I—
The woman I love.
Terror chokes me even as I gather her into my arms like the precious thing she is. She curls into me and her fingers brush my bare face, her touch making me harden all over again. The softest butterfly brush and then her hand drops as if she’s too tired to hold it up.
What is she doing to me?
She could destroy me. She’s proved it. Over and over and maybe I’m a fool for never learning.
Or maybe I’m finally opening myself to the best thing of my life.
Me and Daphne, finally together. Like we were always meant to be.
My chest feels so incredibly warm as I carry Daphne upstairs to take care of her, wash her, and tuck her in close by my side for the night.
I never want to let her go.
Twenty-Two
Present Day
Daphne
There’s a warm wall at my back—huge and unyielding as a mountain. I roll and gently collide with a muscular chest dusted with dark hair. The mountain stirs. I throw an arm around him, hugging him close.
“Careful.” Logan eases me back, frowning at my nipples.
“You stayed.” Happiness rolls over me, a warm blanket. It feels like a dream.
“You need sleep,” he says gruffly. “If you get sick, your piercings can get infected.”
I’m smiling so hard my skin might crack. The corner of Logan’s mouth hitches up in response to my giddiness. He stayed. He cares.
The fire is out and the room is chilly. Logan bundles me up carefully in a blanket and carries me to the bathroom where he performs the piercing aftercare himself. He washes the rest of me so thoroughly, my knees wobble, weak with arousal.
I’m panting by the time he’s done, hoping he’ll bend me over the tub and fuck me. But no. He leads me out and dries me off, then steps back into the shower and soaps up his massive body while I watch. Rivulets run in the grooves between his insane muscles. His hands are huge as they swipe soap over his delectable abs.
I lick my lips. I’m staring. I can’t help it. When he lathers up his palms to wash his cock, my pussy pulses with a mini-orgasm. He shoots me a wicked look.
I take a step towards him and he shakes his head. “Stay.”
He turns his back to me to wash his hair under the spray and the eyeful I get of his chiseled back and ass makes me drop to my knees. I’d crawl to him right now and beg for him to let me take him in my mouth. I’d grovel for a chance to touch him, kiss his feet.
He could have reacted so differently when I made my request yesterday. But he was gracious, kind, the perfect Master playing my body like a prodigy and taking me further than I’d ever been— so deep, so high, so excruciatingly intimate together with him, and that’s not even to speak of the pleasure—
I want to worship him back. I’ve never wanted anything more. And he knows it. When he exits the shower and slings a towel around his hips, I groan.
“Such a needy little one,” he murmurs, nothing but affection in his tone.
I look up from my knees in pure reverence.
He bends down and lifts me, setting me on a towel spread on the marble vanity top. Then he kneels.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he bends his dark, wet head and kisses the inside of my thigh just above my knee.
“Something to remember me by,” he rasps, easing my legs open. And then….oh...his mouth… He licks me all over, adding scratchy kisses courtesy of his unshaven face. There’s no mask between us.
It feels like years since I’ve seen his beloved face. The scarred portion on his left cheek is just a feature of his face to me now. All I see is Logan. My Logan, more dear to me than anyone else on this earth.
I cum as our gazes lock, my head flying back and hitting the bathroom mirror almost hard enough to crack it. Logan picks me up and brings me to a chair in front of the fire. He bustles around, dressing and building up the fire while I sit, still floating.
An alarm goes off somewhere in the room. Distantly I hear it, but don’t recall what it is. Not until Logan lays my phone down next to me. I set an alarm earlier, reminding me to pack. For my engagement ball.
“You need to go,” Logan says.
I open my mouth to protest, and I realize he’s not kicking me out. He’s letting me go...again. To deal with Adam.
Logan kneels again in front of me. In his palm is a ring. My heart flutters a second in blinding joy, and then I realize it’s the gaudy diamond Adam picked out for me. My throat squeezes. I don’t want to touch it.