Author: Tara Sue Me

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here beside you. Understand?”

She did. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He was no longer touching her, but she could sense he was nearby. “Today’s all about sensation. I just want you to feel and experience. It works better when your sense of sight is deprived.”

Something lightly tickled the hollow of her throat, trailed downward between her breasts, circled them, and made its way back up.

“Can you guess what this is?” He flicked it against her nipple.

“Feather?”

He tickled the other. “Is that an answer or another question?”

“It’s a feather, sir.”

“Good girl. It is a feather.” He lightly trailed it down one arm and then the other, teasing her in places she’d never considered erogenous before. Her nerve endings came alive under his touch and subtle teasing. It didn’t seem possible to be so turned on by a feather.

“How about this?” he asked, and something soft and furry stroked her arm.

“Feels like fur, sir.” Warm and soft and comforting.

“It is fur. It’s also a flogger. A rabbit fur flogger.”

She tensed at the word “flogger,” but Daniel kept on with the fur strands, dragging them along and across her body until she was once more relaxed.

“A lot of people associate floggers with pain,” he said. “And there’s certainly a place for that. But with this type,” he murmured as the soft strands flicked her chest, “it’s more about sensation.”

Tied as she was, she could do no more than relax her body and allow Daniel to elicit responses she never knew were possible. Starting at her shoulders, the rabbit fur swiftly pelted against her skin with light breezy strokes. He left no portion of her body untouched by the flogger. It felt delicious when used on her br**sts and her ni**les hardened with desire.

Along her belly, it felt more ticklish. She almost giggled, but with the next stroke, several strands hit her between the legs and she moaned instead.

“Like that, kitten?” he asked, and when the flogger came again, more of its tails landed against her wetness.

Her h*ps jerked, desperate for friction, and her body ached, longing to be filled. “Yes, sir.”

“Would you like something harder?”

The fur struck her again, but it wasn’t enough, could never be enough. She needed more. “Please, sir.”

He spanked her there with three quick strokes and she moaned in pleasure.

“Please,” she said again because it hadn’t been enough.

“Poor kitten,” he said. “It’s not time yet. We have more toys to explore before you’re allowed to come. And when you do come, I’m going to be buried inside you.”

His footsteps sounded as he walked away from her. She tried to hear what he was doing, but it wasn’t until she heard the telltale clink that she had any idea why he had left. Once she did, her body tensed in anticipation.

“I think my kitten needs to cool down, she’s too hot.”

She shivered at the touch of ice to her shoulder and groaned as he trailed it along her collarbone. So cold when the rest of her felt so heated. The ice continued moving lower, but in the second before it reached her breast, his mouth was on her skin. Then the ice was in his mouth and her skin was enveloped in the most surreal combination of frozen heat.

She strained against her bonds with a whimpering moan of pleasure.

A chuckle was his only reply. He suckled her, and then he slipped a finger inside her. A cold finger.

Her h*ps jerked. “Fuck!”

His finger was so cold, it might as well have been ice. As he worked it in and out of her, his skin gradually grew warmer. The ice in his mouth melted, leaving tiny wet paths along her body. Her every nerve stood at attention.

Slowly, he ran his hands down her right leg and untied her ankle. He repeated the action for each limb. Taking the newly untied arm or leg and massaging it gently before placing it back on the table. Any other time, his attention would have relaxed her, but at that moment all it did was serve to entice her more.

He moved leisurely, his seductive touch teasing every bit of anticipation possible out of her. A soft towel was draped over her body and those same hands gently dried her off. With tiny swirls, he circled her breasts, pressing rougher and rougher while he worked his way lower and lower.

The towel slipped from her body and heat once more surrounded her, but it was him. He was above her, on her, and he kneed her legs apart, and seconds later, he was in her. The familiar sweet stretch of him pushing inside made her lift her h*ps in a desperate attempt to draw him deeper.

He was slow and tender, and shattered any lingering misguided impression she had about domination. Fast or slow. Hard or gentle. He would take what he wanted in any way he wanted. And she would let him, because she knew there was only freedom to be found in placing herself into his keeping.

His hands slid to her face and the blindfold fell from her eyes. She saw her own desire reflected in his gaze. And as he drove them both toward an encompassing cl**ax, she saw something deeper. It was her strength that made him strong, and his command that made her complete.

• • •

Daniel looked to his right at Julie as they drove to the assisted living facility later that day. She had her head back on the headrest, eyes closed, and her fingers played a staccato beat against the doorframe. At her feet was the flower arrangement she insisted on putting together. Wildflowers. He smiled at the thought of her remembering his grandmother’s favorite.

“What are you thinking over there, all relaxed and smiley?” he asked.

She lazily peeked through one eye at him. “I’m willing to bet you have a fairly good idea.”

They had already talked about their morning. She indicated her enjoyment of sensation play, and even more so, he believed she had a breakthrough of sorts, though she hadn’t said it in so many words.

He dropped a hand to her thigh and squeezed. “Stroke my ego and tell me anyway.”

“How about I stroke something else?”

Damn, but she was always throwing him off guard by saying things like that. Two could play at that, though. He put his hand back on the steering wheel. “That would be an excellent idea.”

She smiled in assumed victory and turned toward him.

“Unzip your jeans, kitten.”

“What?” she asked, sinking back into her seat.

“You suggested stroking something and I’m agreeing. Unzip your jeans.”

“I meant—”

“I’m well aware of what you meant. Now unzip the jeans or the shirt goes next.” He was pushing, he knew, playing in such a new way for her. Outside the safe confines of his house, would she still be willing to bend to him?

He kept his eyes on the road, allowing her space to make her decision. Seconds later, he was rewarded with the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

“Good job, kitten. Now slip a hand inside your panties and tell me if you’re wet.”

Again he waited.

“Yes, sir. I’m wet.”

“Excellent. Now I want you to stroke yourself. You have until the next stoplight to reach orgasm.”

She sucked in a breath. “Honesty, right?”

“Always,” he said, pleased she felt comfortable enough to be truthful with him.

“I tried once, with an old boyfriend, and couldn’t do it. By myself, I’m fine, but with someone watching?”

He was willing to bet the old boyfriend did nothing more than to sit, watch, and jerk off. What Julie needed was someone with a bit more authority.

“I appreciate your honesty, kitten, but the truth is, that old boyfriend isn’t here. I am. And you’re going to f**k yourself with your fingers, in my car, with me watching, and you’re going to orgasm before we get to the next stoplight.”

He turned his head slightly to watch. First she looked out the windows. He pressed down on the accelerator and when she turned her gaze to him, he gave her a sly grin.

“Close your eyes. No one’s watching.”

She looked out the window again, but closed her eyes before he could say anything else.

“Now slip your hand between your legs and feel how wet you are for me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she obeyed.

“That’s it. Pretend it’s me. Those are my fingers parting you, slipping into you.”

Her body was still tense, almost as if she was fighting herself.

“Except my fingers are bigger than yours, so you need to use two. I’m pumping them into you, going deeper each time, giving your cl*t a little stroke right before entering.”

Her knees fell to the sides as she worked her fingers in and out.

“That’s it. Feel how deep I’m going. Harder.”

Before long, she was writhing in her seat, making little moans. He was so hard, he wondered why he thought having her masturbate in his car was a good idea. She rocked her h*ps into her hand and let out a whimper of release right as he stopped at a red light.

He smiled at her self-satisfied grin. “Good job, kitten. I knew you could do it. Now give me your hand.”

“I’m sorry, sir. What?”

“Your right hand. That orgasm was mine and I want to taste it.”

He took her offered hand and sucked one finger at a time. By the time he finished, she was shifting in her seat again and his erection was so painful he almost had her go with her original stroking plan.

Instead, he pressed a kiss into her palm and enjoyed her flushed face. “I wonder sometimes . . .”

“About?”

“How you denied for so long what you so desperately need.”

She took his hand from where it rested on her thigh, and drew light circles on it. “Maybe I was just waiting for the right man.”

At her words, something inside his chest grew tight. He found that he couldn’t speak, so instead he simply squeezed her hand and hoped she somehow knew what her spoken words did to him.

• • •

“Is that someone with you, Daniel?” his grandmother asked, peeking around his shoulder. Daniel had only visited the facility once before and that had been when he and Tessa were making their final decision. He was anxious to see how his grandmother was settling in.

“Hello, Mrs. Covington,” Julie said, and stepped to his side.

“I know you, young lady.”

He was shocked she remembered. Her dementia had been growing steadily worse, especially her short-term memory. Though she had good days, there were times she appeared to reside solely in the past.

“Yes, ma’am, at the floral shop. You were looking for something for your great-granddaughter. I’m Julie.”

“That’s right, you said pink roses instead of wildflowers. You were right, though I never did understand why people are so taken with roses. Compared to wildflowers, they’re just plain.” She turned to Daniel. “Come on inside, don’t stand there in the hallway.”

“Speaking of wildflowers.” Julie stepped inside while he held the door. “I brought you these as a housewarming gift.”

His grandmother took the flowers with a wistful smile. “How beautiful. My husband used to bring me wildflowers. It was all he could afford when we first went out. To this day I’d rather have wildflowers than all the roses in the world.”

Daniel caught Julie’s gaze and mouthed a “thank you” to her. She had been the one to insist he stop at her shop so she could put something together. It’d touched him at the time, but at that moment, as he watched his grandmother, flowers clutched tightly in her hands, lead Julie into the small kitchen for coffee, the tightness in his chest grew.

He followed the ladies, but his grandmother shooed him out.

“I know you want to inspect every inch of my new home to make sure no one left a hair out of place. You go do that while I talk with your Julie.”