And my God, it’s beginning not in my clit but in my ass.
Then I’m racing, crying out, speeding toward the precipice as he pumps, pumps, pumps…
And I shatter. I break. I fucking collapse. And all the while he continues pumping, invading my body, his cock completing me. I close my eyes and see only flashes of light and color—the pleasure and emotion morphing into psychedelic visions behind the veil of my mind’s eye.
Whether I remain quiet is a mystery. I love you, Braden! I love you, Braden! Are they words or thoughts?
I don’t know.
I don’t care.
Braden sucks in a breath. “Fuck, Skye, you’re so hot. Feels so good.”
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
And then he plunges once more, so deep inside me, and I feel every contraction of his release.
Every. Single. One.
I open my eyes when my own climactic waves begin to subside. Braden’s eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s gripping my hips hard. I’ll have marks. Beautiful red marks.
For a timeless moment, we remain locked together. One being. One heart. One soul.
Until he opens his eyes and pulls away from me. “Stay put,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
I close my eyes once more, and a minute later, warmth slides over my ass. I open my eyes. Braden is taking care of me with a warm washcloth.
My God, I love this man.
“You may speak now.” His voice is husky, dark, sated.
I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a soft sigh.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says.
“It was… It was…” Words float around in my head as I grasp for the right one. “Unbelievable.”
“For me as well. I want to be the only man who ever goes inside that ass, Skye. The only man.”
Fine with me. I don’t say it aloud, though. Is he telling me we have a future? A real future, including marriage, children, and all that white-picket-fence stuff?
I don’t dare let myself hope.
He rises again from the bed and releases my bindings. I rub my wrists absently.
“Okay? Any chafing?”
“No.”
“How about your arms? Any pain from the stretch?”
“No,” I say again.
“Good.” A pause as he rakes his gaze over me. “I love you, Skye.”
“I love you, too, Braden. So much.”
“Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me.”
Thank you. He said thank you.
I’m humbled in a new way. He’s thanking me.
“Thank you, too,” I say. “Thank you for everything, Braden.”
Chapter Forty
Braden rises once more and snuffs out all the candles. Now the only light visible is what shines in from the Boston Harbor through his massive windows.
The scent of candle wax drifts toward me. “Braden?”
“Yes?”
“Why isn’t candle play a hard limit for you?”
“Because I’m very careful. It’s not play that I engage in frequently.”
“You don’t allow it in the club, though.”
“I don’t allow fire play in the club. Because it can lead to significant damage if not done properly. No insurance policy would cover it.”
“Is fire play different from candle play?”
“In my mind, yes. Taper candles made from soy wax—which doesn’t burn nearly as hot as paraffin or beeswax—don’t cause much risk if handled properly.”
“Would you, then?”
“Would I what?”
“Do it for me?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “You’re interested in candle play?”
“The idea of hot wax on my nipples excites me.”
“All right, Skye. For you. I’ll do it for you.”
“But not here,” I say. “At the club.”
“I agree. My bedroom isn’t set up for candle play.”
I smile at him. “I’ve never seen a candle here before tonight.”
“I got them especially for you. To give you the romantic atmosphere you deserve.”
“And it was perfect, Braden. The whole thing was absolutely perfect.”
“Yes, it was. You were a trouper, too. I know you experienced some pain, but you relaxed and worked through it.”
“A little. I mean, yeah, it was painful. Quite sharp at first, but… I don’t know. The pain was always there, but it turned into pleasure. Kind of like when you spanked me. It was perfect in its pain. If that makes any sense.”
“You like pain,” he says.
“No. Not really. I’m not a masochist. But I like pain when it brings me closer to you.”
No truer words.
“When will we go back to New York?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I want to give you some time to continue to work through things before we go back to the club.”
“Oh, I wasn’t even talking about the club. Eugenie wants to meet with me again about a new social media campaign built around some of my hashtags. I need to talk to you about—” A yawn splits my face.
“You’re exhausted, and frankly, so am I. You can tell me all about Eugenie’s new brainchild in the morning. After our soak in the tub.”
“A bath?”
He nods. “A soak will help ease your soreness.”
“I’m not sore down there. Really.”
“Not now. You’re still on a high from the orgasm. You will be sore in the morning. Trust me.” He brushes his lips over mine. “Now go to sleep.”
“Mmm. Deal.” I close my eyes—
Only to shoot them open again when my phone buzzes.
“Ignore it,” Braden says.
“Ha! You know I can’t do that any more than you can.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
I rummage the phone out of my purse on the nightstand. Tessa. At this hour? “Hey, Tess,” I say into the phone, stifling another yawn.
“Skye?” Her voice is unusually high and squeaky.
“Yeah? Are you okay?”