Chapter 8 #2
I couldn’t deny it, as she’d been nothing but kind to Eve in the past.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your tantrum in my office.” His fingers tightened around my chin. “On your knees, now.”
Strength trickled from my body, escaping through the holes he’d poked in my armor. I dropped and assumed the position. He stood before me, his feet planted with grating confidence shoulder-width apart on the floor.
“Kayla.”
I peered up through the strands falling over my right eye. The ones he brushed away with a touch so soft and gentle, it stole my breath. “Yes, Master?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and I knew I’d hit the right button. He was helpless against that title when I gave it to him of my own free will. It was one of the few ways I had of manipulating him.
Tucking my hair behind my ear, he moved even closer. Caging me in. Making my world narrow to the hard floor under my knees, the blazing warmth in my extremities, and the larger-than-life posture of the man who owned me.
“I’m in a merciful mood, so you’re spared from taking a lashing.
” He reached into his pocket and dangled a set of nipple clamps at eye level.
Upon further inspection, I realized they were the kind he reserved for going out.
The kind that made me feel beautiful, despite the agonizing pain they caused.
“However, I think you deserve these. What do you think, Kayla?”
If I disagreed with him, he’d only lash me for it, and my nipples would still end up between his sadistic vises. “Yes, Master. I deserve them.”
“Go into our bedroom and prepare for me. I left the coconut bath products out for you.” He fisted the clamping set. “I expect you on your knees, naked, no later than thirty minutes from now. Do not move from that position.” He pivoted and headed into the kitchen.
As I dragged my feet toward the hall, I spied him opening a bottle of his favorite red.
He perched on a bar stool and made himself comfortable as if he intended to stay put for a while.
He’d probably sit there for at least an hour, his cock growing thicker, straining against his pants, forming a hard ridge behind his zipper at the thought of me on my knees in the next room.
On my knees waiting for him. Hurting for him. Powerless to do anything other than pass the time in supplication.
I entered the bedroom and quietly shut the door. Thirty minutes didn’t give me much time to bathe, shave my legs, do something with my hair.
But he’d expect me to look like a damn model anyway.
I shook my head, kicking myself for feeling a modicum of surprise.
Gage had never made my life easy, and he never would.
His talents lay in other areas, like making me insane with want and need when he got me under his powerful body in bed, up against the wall, bent over a table… chained to the St. Andrew’s cross.
Humiliated on my knees with his cock on my tongue.
I sighed as I switched on the faucet to the tub.
Despite all that, he made me feel loved.
Cherished. Possessed. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to have me, to fight for me, to protect me.
He would crash into hell and charm the devil out of his throne if it meant giving me the world.
Of course, he’d chain me to it. The world and I…
we were both treasured possessions in Gage’s fist.
I shut the faucet off, twisted my hair into a messy up-do, and sank into the blessed hot water.
I wanted to lean my head back and close my eyes for a few minutes—just long enough to prepare myself for whatever he had planned.
But I couldn’t. Every minute counted. Two minutes to shave the barely-there stubble on my legs.
Another minute lathering my steaming skin with the coconut body wash he’d left on the edge of the tub.
Ten more minutes to dry off and spread lotion on every inch of my skin.
What little time I had left, I used for hair and makeup, and at the thirty-minute mark, I dropped to my knees in the middle of the bedroom and watched the clock to pass the time.
No matter how much I pleaded with him to lay a rug down, he refused.
The sadist in him gleefully smiled at my pain.
He appeared in the doorway forty-five minutes later, and my knees ached something fierce as he laid the clamps, along with a butt plug, onto the bed.
He disappeared into the walk-in closet and emerged a few minutes later wearing tan slacks paired with a soft navy knit shirt.
He’d left three buttons at the neckline open.
Damn, I wanted to kiss down his throat and make him moan.
Gage’s idea of casual was no less arresting than the business suits he wore to the office.
“What have you learned from this?” he asked as he wandered to where I kneeled.
“To obey you.” The strong, more recent voice in my head rebelled, threatening to throw a verbal punch at his beautiful face.
He reached out and pulled me to my feet, and his eyes sizzled as he scoured my body with a single glance. “God, I’ll never get over how gorgeous you are.”
His words cast a sheen of desire down my spine. “Same here,” I whispered.
Reaching for the clamps, he smiled. “Is your cunt wet, Kayla?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Master.”
He gestured to my chest. “Present your breasts.”
Pulling my shoulders back, I thrust them forward, peaks hard and tingling at just the thought of him clamping them. The fierce pinch would hurt like hell and cool the fire between my legs.
He held up the jeweled chain, and I lifted my chin to allow him access to the discreet built-in ring in my infinity collar.
He attached the top of the contraption to the collar, and dainty layers of chains draped my chest. At first glance, people would think it was an elaborate necklace.
But if they looked closer, they’d noticed two single chains lowering between the valley of cleavage.
He took a nipple between two fingers and rolled with a light caress.
He did the same to the other side, making them extra sensitive, causing an ache that would intensify the sting once he tightened the clamps.
Gage often found reasons to punish me so he could play with my nipples in his most favorite and sadistic way.
“These belong to me. Your cunt belongs to me. Don’t ever forget that.” He pressed one vise against a tingling bud and closed the prongs. A sharp twinge shot through me, coalescing at the tip of my breast.
“I’m the Master of your pain, the Master of your pleasure.” He clamped the other side, eliciting a whimper.
“Loosen them, Master. Please,” I whispered, barely able to catch my breath. Stones the color of his sapphire eyes dangled, and the added weight heightened my agony.
“Sorry, baby. You’re going to suffer tonight.” He held my chin in his hand—his modus operandi when it came to putting me in my place. “Don’t you ever walk out on me like that again.”
What he wanted was an apology, but he wouldn’t get one. My nipples throbbed, leaving me with nothing nice to say, so I said nothing at all.
Pulling another clamp from his pocket, he bent and gathered the two sapphire stones together. He attached the additional chain to the tiny hooks at the ends, and the chain tickled my belly.
I watched him in fear and a little wonder as he spread the lips of my sex and placed the third clamp. I gave out a stunned cry, but instead of the familiar sharp ache I expected, that contraption between my legs felt so damn good. Too good. One glance into his eyes told me that was his intention.
To keep me on edge, aroused with no end in sight, my nipples connected to my clit. Pain connected to pleasure. All of his toys chained together for his gratification.
The next five days until our anniversary seemed to span for decades.
Sliding his palms up my thighs, Gage remained kneeling on the floor. I lost my breath because it wasn’t often that I had my husband on his knees at my feet. An expression of awe blanketed his face. His eyes heated, darkened to indigo, and the need for control arose in me once again.
I wanted to dominate him.
Wanted to make him writhe.
Make him howl and beg.
Make him submit to me.
Warmth crept up my neck and flushed my cheeks as he stood and reached for the butt plug.
“Bend over,” he said, his voice thick with seduction.
I planted my hands on the mattress and gave him my ass.
Holy hell, this man was my Master all right.
And he was absolutely shameless. I told him as much, to which he laughed as he worked the plug in, using enough lubricant that it wasn’t too uncomfortable.
But then the thing went off, sending vibrations through every nerve in my lower extremities, and I arched my back, expelling a deep moan.
He whirled me around and pushed me onto the bed, then he pulled a pair of lacy thigh-highs from his pocket.
Taking my foot in his hand, he began rolling one up my calf, past my shaking knee until the lace top banded around my thigh.
He grazed my pussy with his knuckles for a few laborious seconds before giving my other leg the same treatment.
“You’re fucking exquisite.” He rose to his full height, rubbing the front of his pants. “A test of control indeed. Finish dressing. Something light with a short skirt that flares. I want easy access to that sweet ass.”
Oh my God. My nipples were pinched to the point of numbness, and I couldn’t move without my clit aching, but he somehow ignited me with mere words.
Dressing was a no-brainer. A flirty black dress with a draped top to hide the clamps, and a strappy pair of the standard four-inch heels he required I wear most of the time. The simmering lust in his eyes told me I’d chosen the right outfit.
“Ready?” he asked.
Was I? I honestly didn’t know, but I took his hand, anxious to find out.