He swept his hand down the side of her face. “You look beautiful, Seychelle.” That dimple. Those tiny scars no one ever noticed but him just above her eye, the ones she’d gotten for him in the accident, saving his life. She was his love. She always would be. In her state of arousal, she was even more beautiful than usual.
Kissing the pulse beating so rapidly in the side of her neck, he took her wrist and led her over to the long lounging couch that was positioned right next to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. The couch was narrow and faced not the view but lengthwise, toward the middle of the room, allowing him to walk around three sides of it.
He slipped the silk robe from her shoulders and watched the little shiver that went through her body. Goose bumps were already rising on her skin—those endorphins telling him she was so ready for this. He ran his fingernails lightly down her back, from her neck to the base of the curve of her buttocks.
“Lay down on the couch, baby.”
Savage watched the shadows play lovingly over her body as she obeyed him. She was freshly shaved, just as he’d instructed, and the sight of her naked skin sent hot blood pounding through his veins. He watched her crawl up on the couch, and his cock jerked hard. She was naturally sensual without knowing it. The firm cheeks of her bottom swayed as first one knee and then the other moved, as she crawled like a cat up the long couch toward the post he was certain she hadn’t noticed.
“That’s good. Stop right there. Lay down on your back, Seychelle.” He kept his voice low. Velvet soft. “Spread your legs wide for me. I want to be able to see your greedy little pussy.” He liked the little shiver that went through her. The blush that covered her body when she parted her legs and found his gaze glued to the slick, wet lips gleaming at him.
Deliberately, he dropped his hand on her scarred left leg and rubbed slowly, back and forth in a mesmerizing caress. “Keep your legs just like this for me, baby.” He brought his gaze up her body to her face. “I like to see how much you want me.”
Her breasts rose and fell with her ragged breathing. Her lips were parted. Eyes were so blue they looked like flowers pressed deep, surrounded by those feathery lashes. The scent of strawberries and honey was tantalizing in the air. Savage ran his hand up her leg and slid his palm inside her thigh to feather his fingers close to her heat. To that secret well of special spice, the aphrodisiac that was waiting for him. Her hips jerked, but she stayed in place.
“Good girl.” He brought his hand slowly up her body, to her bare mound, where he would mark her for the first time. Just the thought had his cock so hard with need he could barely contain himself. He was finally free. After a lifetime of total restraint, she had allowed him to be free. This woman. Fuck. His woman.
Her tits were beautiful. Full. All woman. He found it amazing that she didn’t realize how much he loved the way she looked. He fit her nipples in the palms of his hands and kneaded and massaged, watching her breathing heighten. She loved breast play. She had from the beginning. He was gentle with her nipples. She was already slightly sore from the play they’d done a few days earlier, and he was careful just to intensify her pleasure.
“I love when you work my breasts and nipples.” There was a distinct invitation in her voice. More, there was a bit of a plea.
“You do love clamps, don’t you, baby?”
The tip of her tongue came out to moisten her lips so that they glistened at him. His cock jerked, wanting to push deep.
Seychelle nodded slowly. “Not the clover clamps. Those are scary tight, but the other ones are so sexy and give me just the perfect amount of …” She trailed off.
“Bite,” he supplied and bent to lick at her right nipple. “You loved the clover clamps, and they were beautiful on you.” He slid his hand down her body to curl a finger into her slick heat. “Tell me you didn’t love them, baby. How they tightened when you moved. That bite that just kept growing.” Every word brought more scorching heat to his finger. He smiled wickedly. “Your brain hasn’t caught up with your body. You do like them, angel. Maybe a little too much. That’s what you’re asking for, but I have to say no to you this time. I don’t like ever saying no to you when you ask me for something sexually, but …”
Savage kissed his way back up her body to her breasts so he could pull first one nipple gently into his mouth and then the other. She’d said she wasn’t sore, and she hadn’t winced, so the lotions were doing the job, but he wasn’t taking any chances with her. There was plenty of time for nipple play later; now he wanted to introduce her to other pleasures.
“I’m not taking chances getting you any sorer.” He stepped back and looked down at her. “Don’t pout, Seychelle, you’re going to love everything we do. And I do have another lotion that has a kick to it for your nipples. It’s not my teeth or clamps, but it will feel fuckin’ good, I promise. You’re so ready for this, Seychelle.”
On bare feet, he walked with measured steps away from her, over to the long row of drawers built into the wall on one side of the room. Savage went to it and slowly opened the first of the drawers, where he had stored his personal whips. His heart began to beat faster at the sight of them. His cock pulsed and jerked, hot blood rushing, spreading through his body. He opened several drawers and looked at his high-intensity floggers.
He had so many. Some that delivered a mixture of sting and thud with the thick, dense leather. Another favorite was an eighteen-tailed round braided flogger that delivered a hell of a sting. The floggers went up in intensity from there. A big round braided one made from bull was dangerous in his hands. He had a latigo leather flogger. The stiff leather tails were each a half inch wide, thick and heavy. Seychelle would most likely never be ready for something like that.
He pushed those drawers closed and selected the galley whip, the flogger falls in thick and thin leather strips. The braided coiled handle that fit like a glove in his fist. It was an expert tool in his hands, and yet even for a beginner like Seychelle, he could produce streaks of flames that would light up every nerve ending and set her body on fire.
The ocean provided a backdrop of turbulent music as it rushed toward the boulders and crashed against them in a wild display of white foam and a wall of blue water. Nevertheless, he turned on his playlist, the dark, moody music that went with the shadowy world that he thrived in. Dark, sensual purples, reds and blacks. The candles were black but wept red wax. His woman laid out for him, knowing he was bringing her into his world. Letting him live free. Letting him live unashamed. He’d never loved her more, and he could honestly say that until that moment, he’d loved her so damn much he would have thought it was impossible to improve on that.
Savage approached her and paced around the couch, a slow perusal of his woman, taking in the sight of her, devouring her with his hot gaze, letting her see how much he wanted her. Letting her see the flogger in his hand, the falls dangling from the handle. He took her left hand and brought it over her head to the side where the loop was built into the couch. “I’m going to put your wrist in here and wrap it once. You can pull loose. I’m not securing you this first time because I want you to see that you can trust me.”
“I do, Savage. I’m not afraid.”
He was silent. She was afraid. That wasn’t the entire truth, and he needed her to always give him the truth, especially under these circumstances. He secured her wrist, making certain it wasn’t too tight and she could easily pull it loose if she needed to. All the while he held her gaze. As he moved down to secure her ankle, her lashes fluttered, and she bit her lower lip.