Page 24 of Absolution (Favorite Malady Trilogy #3)

ABIGAIL

W hen we arrive back at our house, I expect Dane to carry me up to our bedroom. But, to my surprise, we’re heading down to the home gym in our finished basement.

“What are we doing down here?” I ask.

He releases a low, sexy hum. “You’re going to fly for me tonight, little dove.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and I glance around the gym in confusion.

The first thing I note is that Dane’s punching bag is missing.

In its place, a large metal ring hangs from the ceiling, and a thick wrestling mat has been placed directly below it.

Several thick coils of rope have been laid out on the mat.

“I don’t want to fight you tonight,” I admit. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

We haven’t had sex at all since my memories of abuse surfaced. Every night, my husband has held me in our bed, but he hasn’t claimed my body in the way we both desire.

I’ve been too scared that I’ll freak out and spoil our connection.

He sets me down on my feet directly below the ring and presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s not what I have planned. Only pleasure for you tonight, my queen. And the perfect amount of pain. Say the word, and everything will stop.”

My heart tugs with longing. “I want you,” I promise. “More than anything. But I’m afraid of how I might react. I don’t want any of those awful memories to ruin things between us.”

His jaw firms, but his hand is achingly gentle in my hair. “Nothing could ever ruin what we share. All I want is to worship your body and show you how proud I am to call you mine. I won’t push you if you’re not ready.”

I stare up into his verdant eyes for several long seconds. With each heartbeat, my need for him pulses through my body. My core flutters with the beginnings of desire, and I resolutely keep my full focus on him so that dark thoughts won’t assail me.

“I trust you,” I vow.

He peers straight into my soul. “I will never betray that trust.”

“I know.” I take a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

His hand slides through my hair, cupping my nape. He holds me in a firm but careful grip as he slowly lowers his mouth to mine, gauging my response. I push up onto my toes and meet him halfway, offering myself to him.

Our kiss is slow and tender, almost cautious.

His tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entry.

I part them on a soft sigh, welcoming him to deepen his claim.

He strokes into my mouth, shallow forays at first. Then with greater confidence as I melt against him.

I twine my arms around his shoulders, anchoring myself to him in case I get swept up in a storm of tumultuous emotions.

But all I experience is familiar, sweet lust pulsing through my body.

My fingers flex into the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

I tilt my hips against his hard thigh, tentatively stimulating my clit.

A soft wave of pleasure washes through me, and I breathe him in, reveling in his unique, salt-kissed cedar scent. Comfort blankets me, warming my desire.

Safe.

I open myself to him, entrusting my body to his masterful hands. He already has my heart and soul.

His deft fingers begin to toy with the delicate zip at the back of my purple satin dress, teasing between my shoulder blades. He waits until I’m panting against him before slowly dragging it downward. The silky material falls open to expose my back, and he reverently traces the line of my spine.

Sparks dance beneath his soft fingertips, and I press myself deeper into his arms, urging him to strip me.

His thumbs hook beneath the delicate straps at my shoulders, and he eases them down my arms. The slinky dress slides down my body, and my sensitive flesh draws tight with goosebumps as every inch of my skin sparkles and dances for him.

It drops to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my lacy black thong.

He drags the lingerie down my legs, and I eagerly step out of it, conveying my willingness with every move.

“Stay,” he murmurs against my lips.

I nod, ready to accept the pleasure he’s offering.

And the perfect pain he promised.

Cool air closes around me in the absence of his embrace, heightening my skin’s sensitivity.

I shiver in anticipation and watch with rapt focus as he retrieves a length of rope.

He frees the coil with a flick of his hand, and I jolt at the sharp, warning snap of the rope against the padded mat beneath my feet.

“I’m going to bind your beautiful body now,” he says, voice deep with his own desire. “But your hands and feet will be free. You won’t be restrained until I’m ready to suspend you.”

“Suspend me?”

His lips curve in a lust-drunk smile. “I told you that you’re going to fly for me, little dove. You’ll float in my ropes.” He blinks, and his expression firms to something more serious. “Are you ready for that?”

I swallow hard and choose to focus on the pleasant warmth that still floods my body. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’m ready. I want it, Master.”

His eyes flash with his own pleasure when I use his title. “Good girl.”

I blow out a long sigh at the first brush of the hemp rope against my sensitized skin.

He steps behind me, but I can see him clearly in the mirrors that line the wall in front of us.

His eyes meet mine in our reflection, and he keeps me locked in his burning stare as he drops a kiss on my shoulder.

At the same time, he drapes the rope over it, dragging it lightly over my left breast. The slightly rough fibers tease just at the edge of my nipple, and I suck in a sharp breath.

His hands manipulate the rope in sure, confident movements as he weaves a cage around my torso.

With each knot, the cage tightens, and the rope becomes a firm embrace.

He draws a length around my waist, pulling it taut enough to apply pressure against my diaphragm.

My breaths turn shallower with every tug, my breathing restricted according to his will.

Each of my breaths is for him. Just as my heart beats for him.

The rope wraps around my hip, and my clit throbs in time with my heartbeat. He draws it tight into the seam of my inner thigh, and when he does the same on my opposite hip, the bindings frame my pussy.

I study myself in the mirror. Just as he promised, he’s bound my body in rope, but my arms and legs are free. I could run if I wanted to. I could resist.

Even though all I need to stop him is a single word.

His big hands cup my aching breasts, and my knees almost buckle at the surge of pleasure. The tie has made them intensely sensitive, and merely the brush of his palms over my tight nipples is almost enough to make me orgasm.

Before I can reach my peak, he withdraws with a cruel chuckle.

“You’re going to have to suffer for a while longer before I allow you to come,” he warns.

“You’re going to beg for your orgasms, and then you’ll have so many that you beg me to relent.

I’ll make you come again just because I like the way you whimper my name when you’re a needy, desperate mess for me. ”

“Dane…”

He nips my shoulder in reprimand. “ Master. ”

“Master.” I relax into his possessive embrace, fully surrendering to our twisted connection, our perfect bond.

His gaze remains fixed on mine in our reflection. “Yes, pet? Did you want to ask for something?”

I lick my lips. “I’m ready to fly. I want to. Please.”

After all the emotional turmoil of the last several days, I want to float just like he promised. I want him to make all of my thoughts and worries disappear, until I’m lost in him, and nothing else exists.

He kisses the sensitive spot just below my ear, and pleasure zings down my spine.

“How can I deny you anything?” He shoots me a wicked grin. “I’m completely in your power, my queen.”

The declaration of my power over him when I’m stripped bare and bound should be laughable, but nothing has ever felt more right. He looks at me with open awe, as though I’m the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. As though I’m the center of his universe.

I bask in his admiration, drinking in his rapt attention until I’m intoxicated by it. The rush goes straight to my head, and my thoughts begin to drift away. There’s only him.

Dane. My Master.

“I’m going to tie your wrists behind you now,” he says, his final warning before he claims my freedom of movement.

I place my hands at the small of my back in silent offering, a clear demonstration of my eagerness for his wicked games.

He nuzzles my hair. “Good girl.”

Rope wraps around my wrists, binding them together and drawing them upward so that my elbows bend. It’s not an uncomfortable position; if anything, I feel secure. Safe.

He ties my wrists to the harness he wove around my chest, creating a column of support along my upper spine. Then he loops the length through the metal ring above me and pulls.

The cage around my body shifts, drawing tighter to support my weight. I’m standing on my own two feet, but if I chose to lift my legs, I would settle deeper into the harness and be suspended from the ring.

That’s exactly what he has planned for me. He retrieves a second coil of rope, and this time, the snap when it hits the mat elicits an answering flutter between my legs. It wraps around my thigh in a loving caress, rough fibers teasing my tender flesh before drawing tight with his cruel knot.

He applies steady pressure, forcing my knee to bend and lift as he pulls the end of the rope through the ring above me. My toes leave the mat, leaving me balanced on one leg. He secures the tie on my thigh to the harness around my hip, forcing my knee to the side.

I can see my exposed pussy clearly in the mirror.

It glistens with wanton arousal, and my labia are swollen with desire.

His fingertips tease along the line of the rope that frames my sex, and sparks dance over my sensitive flesh.

I gasp and try to lean into his hand, but I wobble and almost lose my tenuous balance.