Page 57

She handed the flesh light to me. I looked at the toy in my hands; flesh-toned silicone, warm from her touch, molded in a way that made me pause. It felt surreal, holding something so intimate, made with me in mind.

I glanced up at her. "You really did this."

She shrugged, biting her bottom lip, suddenly shy despite the boldness it must've taken to order it.

"I wanted you to have… me. In some way. I actually ordered it awhile ago.

I didn't realize how long it would take for them to make the goddamn thing.

It was supposed to be delivered before… well, before Amber was delivered. "

I blinked, a knot catching in my chest as she continued.

"I know how much of a horndog you are, Levi. And six weeks without sex? I remember how tortuous it was for you after Liam and Violet were born."

A lump formed in my throat as I asked, "Even in the height of your pregnancy, with how difficult that was, you were thinking about me?"

"Of course I was," she whispered. "I've always thought of you, Levi. Even when I hated you. "

That admission settled down, nestled between us. Despite everything I had put her through, she had chosen to love me all over again. Not blindly but bravely.

"Also," she said, "I've been thinking about more ways to explore. Ways to make things fun."

I fucking love this woman.

"Then let's have fun," I said.

She crawled into the bed next to me. With a half-laugh, half-growl, she said, "Alright, builder boy. Let's see how good you are with your hands and a user manual."

I grinned. "Challenge accepted."

I reached for her hand, guiding her gently onto my lap. "You want to show me how it works?"

Her eyes glinted. "You've already had tons of practice with the real thing." Then, she glanced down at me, cocking her head in amusement. "No. I want to see you use it on yourself."

My brows lifted. "Oh, authoritative. I like it. But only if you call me a good boy when I finish."

Her face didn't crack. Not even a smirk. Just a slow, deliberate tilt of her head as she leaned closer. "I will. But you have to be a good boy to be called one. You have to earn it, Levi."

She is hot when she gets like this.

I cleared my throat. "And how do I prove to you that… I'm a good boy?"

"You don't finish until I allow you to finish." Her voice was silk-wrapped steel, the commandment hanging between us like a dare.

My throat went dry. My cock twitched.

Fuck me, we're doing this .

I cleared my throat, hand still holding the toy like it might detonate. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirked now, ever so slightly, eyes raking down my chest to my lap like she inspected her property, already immersed in her role of goddess. "Good. Because you finish only when I say so. Not a fraction of a second before."

"Fuck." I exhaled a long breath. My pulse raced as she climbed off me, sat at the foot of the bed, and tucked her legs beneath her. Watching. Waiting.

"I want to see how you look when you're desperate," she said. "Not for release. For me."

I swallowed hard and nodded, lifting the toy slowly. My body already thrummed with anticipation, but her command made it something more. A challenge, a game, a twisted little trust fall wrapped in heat and love.

She didn't touch me. She didn't need to. Her presence was overwhelming, and she needed nothing more than her gaze to set every inch of me on fire. She reclaimed control over herself, me, us, everything.

The flesh light felt warm on me as I used it. Slick, tight, molded perfectly to replicate her likeness. It was surreal, obscene, and intimate all at once, and the fact that she watched me magnified every sensation.

Sloane didn't speak at first. She sat there, at the foot of the bed, her arms folded across her chest with a dangerous glint in her eye. She watched me like a warden, ensuring her helpless prisoner obeyed every unspoken command.

My breath caught as I slid deeper into it, the sensation so close to her it made my thighs tense. Despite the pleasure of the toy wrapped around me, it was her fiery gaze and how she studied me, burned me, that pushed me to a climax I was not allowed .

"Slower," she said, her voice calm but firm.

I obeyed.

She tilted her head. "I want you to remember what it feels like to want me. Earn it."

I groaned. My grip tightened involuntarily as my eyes rolled.

"Eyes on me," she snapped.

I looked up, throat tight. She filled the room, fuck, she filled my world. Confident, reclaiming control over her body as I lay there naked, humbled, and desperate to please.

"You do not come," she whispered. "You hold it. For me."

"For you," I repeated, breathless. "Always."

The flesh light was a tool. The real heat, the real connection, was her; the power she held over me, and the grace she gave by allowing me back in.

And I'd follow her rules until the end of my days.

Every.

Single.

One.

I neared my climax, the tension rising from deep in my loins, coiling tighter with each stroke. My thighs trembled. My abs clenched. The pace of my hand betrayed me, faster now, desperate, the edge so close it felt like falling.

"Sloane," I ground out, my voice rough and guttural. My chest heaved with the effort it took to hold back, to not spill my seed like an offering at her altar.

"Not… yet," she said, her voice thick with desire, but firm with restraint. Her gaze pinned me, unrelenting and hungry, as she slowly stood at the foot of the bed .

The room was silent but for the sound of my breath and the slick rhythm of my hand. She moved with maddening control, crossing the space between us one barefoot step at a time until she stood next to the bed, towering over me like a goddess from on high, heat radiating from her.

"You will obey me," she murmured, reaching down to cup my cheek, her touch gentle in contrast to the command in her tone. Her thumb stroked my jaw. "Stop."

I whimpered, actually fucking whimpered, and stopped. My hand froze mid-motion, the ache in me violent.

"Good boys get rewarded," she whispered in her deep sultry tone.

I nearly came undone then, just from the sound of her voice, the approval in her gaze, the sheer control she had over me.

My body quaked, restrained on a hair trigger, obeying her because it was her .

Because I would do anything she asked. Because I needed her to know she had that power over me. Fuck, that I wanted her to have it.

Her fingers trailed down my chest, nails scraping lightly. "You've been very good so far," she purred. "But let's see if you can keep being good… for a little longer."

"Sloane…" I begged again, breathless and raw.

Her smirk was devastating. "Oh, you'll thank me once I finally allow your release."

Then she straddled me and I forgot how to think.

If someone had told me years ago that my Sloane, the girl with the shy smile and the habit of folding laundry with military precision, would one day command me like a goddamn dominatrix in bed? I would've laughed in their face and asked what kind of psychic crystal ball bullshit they were peddling.

But after that moment ?

I was a believer. Not because of some prophecy, but because of her sermons. Every whispered command, every deliberate touch, every rule she laid down and made me beg to follow.

This wasn't simply sex. It was a revelation.

And she? She had become a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, unflinching in her desires, and I worshipped the ground she walked on for it.

She straddled me with maddening slowness, knees bracketing my hips, her body hovering right above mine, close enough for heat to transfer, yet not enough for relief. Her skin brushed me like a whisper. My cock twitched against the air between us, painfully denied.

"You think you've been good?" she asked, tilting her head, fingers trailing down my sternum.

"I've done everything you asked," I choked out, my hand gripping the headboard like restraint was all I had left.

"But it's not only about obedience, Levi. It's about patience. Trust."

“I trust you,” I said, eyes locked on hers, "But my patience is about to burst all over."

She leaned down, her lips grazing my ear as she loosed a silky laugh. “Prove it. Hands behind your back.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I did it without hesitation, locking my hands behind me, leaving myself completely exposed. Vulnerable. Hers.

“Good boy,” she whispered, and the words struck me like lightning down my spine.

She reached down, took the flesh light from my lap, and set it aside carefully as if it was a tool she'd use later; for either punishment or reward .

Her hands wrapped around my cock instead, her grip purposeful, warm and knowing. I gasped, muscles twitching with the effort to stay still, to not thrust upward into her palm like a starving man.

She teased me with her fingers first. Light touches, soft glides from base to tip that made my toes curl and my eyes close.

“No looking away,” she said firmly. “You watch me. You see who owns this moment.”

I forced my eyes open. She was watching me, her eyes dark with power, but beneath it, something gentler. Something healing and trusting. I felt the rush of endorphins threaten to take me then.

“I hated you,” she murmured as her hand tightened slightly, “for a long time. I hated how much I loved you. How much you broke me. But I never stopped wanting to be the only one who could bring you to your knees.”

“You are,” I said, voice breaking. “You always were.”

She guided the head of my cock to her entrance, dragging herself across me, wet and ready, taunting me with the promise of everything craved.

"This is yours Levi, and your cock belongs to me ."

And she sank down onto me: methodical, slow, deliberate. Her breath caught as she took me in inch by inch. My mouth fell open, a sound escaping that was part groan, part prayer.

I was home. Buried inside her. Owned. Forgiven.

She began to ride me, smooth and controlled. She dragged every ounce of desperation from me as her fingers laced into my hair.

“Do not touch me,” she warned, her voice trembling now with her own need. “Not until I say.”

I nodded, biting into my lip to force back the primal urge to grab her hips, to thrust savagely into her, to claim her .

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine with aching sweetness. “When I say, you’ll let go. Not a second before.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I whispered, trembling underneath her. The weight of her love disguised as domination overwhelmed my senses.

And I waited, on the edge of madness, for her command.

She rode me slowly at first, her rhythm deliberate and devastating.

Every movement squeezed the air from my lungs, her warmth gripping me like a velvet vise.

Her hands were on my chest, grounding herself as she moved, her nails grazing over my skin.

She was in charge, watching me with that fire in her eyes and I was barely holding it together.

“Sloane,” I groaned, teeth gritted, every muscle in my body straining as if they would burst. “I-I’m so close.”

“I know,” she whispered, voice steady but her breathing ragged. “But you do not come until I do. You do not finish until I say.”

She picked up the pace, hips moving in that perfect rhythm. Her body trembled, and I felt it. She was close too. We were right on the edge together, teetering over a precipice made of love and forgiveness.

“You’re doing so well,” she panted, her voice rough, her own heat spilling out into her words. “Such a good boy.”

Good boy.

Those words undid something in me. My eyes clenched shut as I fought to hold back the impending orgasm.

Then her voice: “Come with me.”

Permission. That was all it took.

I let go and shattered, exploding inside her as she cried out, her body tightening around me, her own climax crashing through her like a hurricane. We clung to each other, locked together, our bodies shaking, unraveling and binding all at once .

For a second, my vision blackened, stars prickling the edges of my sight. I caught her as she collapsed to the side, her breath coming in soft gasps against my neck. My body twitched against hers, nerves still alight, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sloane, that was… you were incredible," I gasped, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Fuck me.”

She gave a dazed little hum, her voice muffled against my chest. “Hmm. I can't right now. My legs hurt.”

I burst out laughing, the sound muffled into her hair. “Yeah, I guess three minutes of high intensity cardio is pretty tough for anyone.”

She smacked my shoulder with the strength of a drunk kitten. “Oh, shut up. It was more like four. I added an extra minute with my commands, thank you very much.”

“You should teach a class,” I said, chuckling as I pulled the blanket over us. “Dominate your husband in ten minutes or less.”

“Step one,” she murmured, curling into me with a sleepy grin, “make him beg for it.”

“Nailed it,” I said, pulling her closer as we lay tangled together, the afterglow warm between us.

We didn’t speak for a long time. There was only the sound of our breathing, the way our hearts pounded together like war drums turning into lullabies.

Afterwards, she looked at me, breathless and glowing, a soft smile curving her lips. “You are my everything.”

“As you are mine, my love.”