She touched her hand to her neck. “And I can’t argue with it. I have to do exactly what you say.”
He wanted to take her in his arms, but she would perceive that as a weakness right now. “Yes. No arguments. No bargaining. You do as you’re told or you will be punished.”
Punishment had never been part of their relationship. He had never even really disciplined her. He flogged her because it excited her sexually. He got off on it, too, so that was a win-win. Occasionally he caned her because the steady staccato beat relaxed her. They both enjoyed bondage, and he loved to torture her sexually.
But it was no longer enough. He’d always wanted more, though he’d been loath to push the issue. As the kids had come along, adjusting to having them in their lives had taken precedence over having his wife’s submission. Deep down, he knew she wanted more.
“This could blow up in our faces.”
It could, but he wasn’t willing to give her an inch. She was too intelligent not to take the mile. “It’s for five days and four nights. You did fine last night. I think you can handle it.”
Half turning, she threw a cheeky grin over her shoulder. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
He came to stand next to her. Planting his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him completely. The conflicted expression in her bottomless brown eyes troubled him. “Sabrina, I’m not forcing you into this.”
“I know.” She dropped her gaze, focusing on his lips. “I want to do this. You usually have good ideas. I’m just afraid because what if I hate it and you like it? Where does that leave our relationship?”
He pushed a strand of her luxurious dark hair away from her face. He knew she’d worn it down for him. “Being your husband is the most important thing in my life. Nothing is going to change that. I’m asking for five days. That’s all.”
And they would have regular discussions. He didn’t expect to get everything he wanted, and he needed to make sure she got everything she needed.
“Four days. Four nights. The fifth morning, we talk.” She looked up again, meeting his eyes. “And I’m not going to be naked where other people can see me.”
He gave her a crooked grin. “Looks like I’ve finally impressed upon you the importance of talking about what works and what doesn’t.”
She didn’t smile. “Yes. Well, I have a feeling we’ll have a lot to talk about.”
They would, which was why he didn’t love the idea of waiting until the last morning to talk. But he knew when he’d milked a negotiation for all it was worth, and he knew when to not point out that he’d ignored her last condition.
* * * *
Calypso music came through the trees. Sabrina held Jonas’s hand as they walked along the path toward the sound. For most of the day, they’d engaged in vacation activities. He’d secured a tour on a glass-bottom catamaran. They’d gone sailing and snorkeling. They’d chatted a little, watched colorful schools of fish, exclaimed over the island’s beauty, and enjoyed one another’s company.
As dinnertime approached, he’d instructed her to remove her underclothes and put her hair up. She changed out of her skirted bathing suit and back into the peach wraparound she’d worn that morning. Thin straps crossing from front to back held it up. The fabric hugged her breasts and cinched around her waist, and then cascaded over her hips to fall unevenly down her thighs. His eyes had lit up when he first saw her in it, so she knew he liked the way it looked on her. It was one of the new outfits she’d purchased for the trip.
She’d wrestled her hair into a long braid that she twisted into an artful crown on top of her head. The night was warm, and as they emerged onto the beach, she spied a bonfire. That made her extra glad he’d wanted her to wear her hair up. She wasn’t worried about getting singed, but she hated to sweat unnecessarily. It simply wasn’t sexy.
Of course, Jonas liked to tease her that she seemed to find sweat sexy on him. That wasn’t strictly the case. She liked the way he looked when he used his muscles, like when he worked in the garden or lifted something heavy, and those activities tended to make him sweat. She often pushed him toward the shower before she’d actually touch him.
The beach was set up with bamboo benches and tripods. Some benches were placed around the fire. Others were scattered in a haphazard manner. Smaller tiki torches lit the areas that were too far from the mountainous fire to benefit from its glow. The dark water stretched endlessly eastward. This beach would look beautiful bathed in the morning light, but just now the sun was setting on the opposite side of the island.
“It’s incredible.” She watched the other guests milling around to see what they planned to do with the tripods, but everyone seemed to be ignoring them.
Jonas sniffed appreciatively. “I love the smell of fresh barbecue. Hungry?”
After a day spent on the water, she could probably out-eat him. “Ravenous.”
They snagged paper plates, but Jonas took hers and put it underneath his. “You won’t need this.”
Feeding one another never failed to lead to sensuous activities, even when it wasn’t the intention. Many times Jonas had asked her to taste a dish when he messed with the recipe. They’d frequently ended up ordering out because the dinner had burned when they snuck away for a quickie.
But she was too hungry to think about sex just now. She was tempted to argue, but she remembered her promise to be submissive and kept quiet. Where that action would normally have made her feel anxious, she felt only peace now. Her life was in Jonas’s hands, and she trusted him completely.
Together they selected items for the plate. Jonas piled the chipped pork and spareribs high, stacking them on top of steamed vegetables and a baked potato. He held her hand as he led her to an unoccupied bench. They sat, straddling the bench to face each other.
Jonas placed the plate of food between them and stabbed the single fork into the barbecue-slathered mess. Sabrina eyed it hungrily. She wanted to ask if he expected her to feed him or the other way around, but she held the question in check.
“Open your dress at the top so I can see your breasts.”
The firelight gave her skin a red-orange glow, but it didn’t show much, so she reasoned it was safe. Reaching to one side of her waist, she untied one of the strings holding it together. The bench caught the bottom half of the fabric and kept it from falling completely away. Then she tugged the string on the other side of her waist. The dress fell open enough for her to see her breasts when she looked down. She tucked it away from her chest just to make sure Jonas got the view he wanted.
He regarded her appreciatively. “Beautiful. Simply perfect.”
A man in love had a warped perception of beauty. Sabrina might have voiced that opinion, but the raw admiration in his tone gave her pause. If she argued now, she would likely face a punishment. They hadn’t discussed it outright, but she knew him well enough to assume he’d added that element to this experiment.
He picked up a short rack of ribs and held them out to her.
She wanted to hold them with a napkin, but he hadn’t provided one. Hunger drove her to forget manners. If he wanted her sticky fingerprints all over his body later, so be it. She accepted the messy ribs. “Thank you.”
Silence reigned for several minutes while she devoured the ribs. When she went to suck the sauce from her fingertips, Jonas grabbed her wrist. He nailed her with a fierce look. “Mine.”
He cleaned her fingers with his mouth. His tongue laved heat and his teeth scraped her skin. Her breath caught. Now that her stomach wasn’t empty, another hunger was growing.
She pried his fingers from her wrist and licked his fingers the same way he licked hers. Before long, he leaned close and replaced his fingers with his tongue. He swept into her mouth and mastered the moment.
Then he sat back and picked up a piece of steamed zucchini. “Open your dress the rest of the way.”
She pulled the material back so that it hung from the thin straps on her shoulders. Her entire front side was revealed to his gaze. He could see the rise and fall of her breasts, the pebbled tips of her nipples, and the reflection of the firelight from the moisture in her bare pussy.
He fed her slowly, pausing to caress her body as she chewed. She tried to return the favor. He allowed her to feed him, but he didn’t let her hands wander on the way back to the plate.
As they finished, Sabrina swiped her finger through some of the sauce left on the plate. She painted it on her nipples and grinned in decadent invitation.
He pursed his lips in thoughtful disapproval. “That isn’t very submissive of you, honey.”
Usually he liked when she took the initiative. She always messed up when they played this game. Keeping it up for four more nights and days was going to be very challenging.
“I’m sorry.” She tried to wipe away the sauce, but he stayed her hand.
Standing up, he unzipped his shorts, shoved them down, and kicked them to the sand. His erection sprang forth, and she spied the pearly drop at the tip betraying the extent of his desire.
He grasped his shaft, moved closer, and used his cockhead to clean her nipples. The soft glide of his skin over hers sent waves of shivers up her shoulders and down to her core. Then he straightened his knees, and he was so close to her mouth. Suddenly she needed to taste him.
“Open for me.”
For him? Anything. Submitting this way was much easier for her. She knew to part her lips and wait for him. Sometimes he just wanted her to be still and accept that he was fucking her mouth. Other times he wanted her to actively participate. This was one of those times.
He eased forward. “Take me deep and suck me until I come.”
She started slow, wetting him with long swipes of her tongue. When he was slick enough, she took him in her mouth and wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft. With her other hand, she caressed the sensitive skin on his sac. He let her set the beginning pace, but after a few minutes, he took over.
She relaxed her jaw and sucked the way he liked. His grunts and groans were punctuated with exclamations and rough encouragement. Hot jets of semen squirted down her throat. She swallowed quickly, sucking harder to make sure she got every drop.
Jonas collapsed back to the bench, sitting so heavily on his half that it jolted her side. He moved the plate and pulled her onto his lap so that she straddled him, and he peppered lazy, sloppy kisses on her lips.
He pushed her dress from where it fell on her thighs and caressed her with long, slow strokes up her legs, over her hips, all the way to her shoulder blades. She returned the favor, taking off his shirt and tossing it onto the small heap containing his shorts. Then she pressed her bare breasts into his naked chest and gave herself over to the passion overwhelming her system.
His kisses drugged her, and his heat fed the fire within. If he didn’t do something to quench the inferno soon, she’d combust. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight, so she preferred he take care of the issue.
The slow, deep pounding of drums invaded her consciousness, pulling her from the bubble that had wrapped around them. Jonas broke the kiss and looked over her shoulder. She knew from the interested expression on his face that his attention had wandered, and she hoped it wouldn’t be for long. When they had sex in front of an audience, the spectators disappeared for Sabrina, but Jonas was always aware of them. They fed his passion almost as much as she did.
She turned her head to see a crowd gathering around one of the tripods. When he tapped her hip, her hopes were dashed. His passion had been sated by her blowjob, and he was more than willing to make her languish.
Reluctantly, she eased back onto the bench. By the time she secured the ties on her dress, he’d already put his shorts back on. He zipped them as she got to her feet, and he frowned when he took in what she’d done. “I didn’t tell you to cover yourself.”
The tripod was set up near the fire. While the light would be better there, it was still pretty dark. She untied her dress and let it fall open. He took her hand and led her through the small crowd.
Mistress Hera stood next to one thick bamboo leg. She wore a colorful corset, a flame-red skirt, and matching thigh-high boots. A riding crop was nestled in the laces of her boots, easily accessible at her side. Sabrina imagined being on the receiving end of Mistress Hera’s discipline. A shiver of longing ran through her. Jonas shot her a knowing grin.
“Welcome, my friends. Tonight I’m going to show you some of the ways in which you can utilize a tripod. These things look a little intimidating, and they do present some challenges, but they can also open up your play by making you rethink some of the regular things you’re doing.” The crowd tittered, and Mistress Hera smiled indulgently.
Yes, it was true. While sex play in the BDSM world was exciting, doing the same things over and over could make the most exciting thing mundane. Sabrina thought about how she and Jonas used role-play to keep things interesting. Even then, they ended up doing a lot of the same things or cutting corners because they only had so much time before somebody awoke from their nap. She loved what they did, but she wasn’t going to turn her nose up at something new.
Mistress Hera ran her hand over one leg of the tripod in an overtly sensual manner. “I’m going to need a set of volunteers.”