A faint tickle began to run up my leg. I twitched, unable to move. I could have broken my restraints, but Nerissa and I had worked together to create a psychological bondage that was stronger than the body. When either of us needed it, we were able to slip into the submissive part, regardless of our strength. So I gave in, allowed her to take the helm.
The feather—I thought it was a feather—brushed lightly up my leg, irritating my skin. My muscles began to twitch as the tickling continued, and then the light touch brushed between my legs. Startled as the teasing hit my clit, I tensed, but there was no relenting as the sensation continued. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. I waited, tensed, but nothing. Feeling exposed, I wanted to ask if Nerissa was still there, but she had ordered me to remain silent.
I waited, but there was only the sound of the music. Another minute and my stomach began to knot. And another and I was starting to shake, in the darkness, unable to move.
Just as my nerves were beginning to fray, she began to stroke my calves. The scent of jasmine wafted up and I realized she was oiling me—lightly kneading my muscles with her light touch. Her fingers slid up to my thighs, still massaging the fragrant oil into my body.
The warmth of her flesh, the soft circular motion of her touch acted like an instant sedative and I relaxed, letting her work her magic. The next moment, a gentle kiss touched the one scar I would give anything to be rid of—Dredge had carved his name on my pubic mound, claiming me as his. The scar was the last one he gave me before killing me.
But Nerissa’s lips had long ago taken away the shame. She had taught me how to reclaim myself from the memories, to believe that I was lovable, to believe that I was beautiful.
I shivered as her lips moved from the scar to between my legs, her tongue swirling around my clit, teasing me lightly, coaxing a moan from my throat as the fire between my legs blazed to life. I stiffened against my bonds. In the darkness, unable to move, I could only focus on the sensation of her touch, the drive of the music.
Spiraling into the flow of her rhythm as she bathed me with her love, I tensed. The knot in my stomach grew, but now it was anticipation and desire. I wanted to whisper Don’t stop, but that would break the rules, and we were strict on our rules. Instead, I let out a low moan as she became more insistent, laving my clit, working me hard. I twisted, but her hands held my hips firm.
Then one hand let go of my side and the next moment, she spread my * wide and drove a thick dildo deep inside me, working hard as she penetrated my folds.
“You like this?” Nerissa’s voice was low, husky with desire. “Answer me.” And then again—the pressure against my clit as she drove the dildo into me with an increasingly frantic rhythm.
“Yes . . . more, please more . . .” I could barely form the words as the music and the darkness blended with the spiraling passion that built with every touch. And then, just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, she nipped me, biting just enough to send me over the edge, and I let out a sharp cry as I floated in the sudden free fall, hovering over the edge of the cliff before I began falling into the darkness of orgasm, the pain of the night sweeping up to surround me with velvet wings as her love cushioned me from the blazing explosion that echoed through my mind.
I came again and once more, and for a moment, everything went black—and I had no clue who or what I was as I hovered between what felt like the gates of life and death. But neither was open to me—I was outside the circle, and so I came back to myself with a shuddering start.
The next moment, I realized I could see. She had removed the blindfold, and now she pressed her lips against mine and kissed me slowly, on my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. I realized I had been crying by the blood that stained her lips.
“Menolly, you and I . . . we have something that nothing can ever sever. You hold my heart in your hands.” Nerissa gently untied me, and I sat up, wiping my eyes with the tissues she handed me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, not knowing how to answer. She had released the fears of the night that had coiled inside me, serpents waiting to strike, but in doing so, she had brought me face to face with the cold truth of who I was. Which was, I supposed, not a bad thing.
“Yes . . . it was just . . . intense.” I turned to her, wanting to explain, wondering if I even could begin to. But her expression told me she already knew. Somehow, she knew.
Her smile was slow and sad. “We live in a harsh time, my love. But through it all, we have each other. And we have your family—our family.”
“I want . . . do you need . . .” I wanted to love her, gently and slowly, but I wasn’t sure where she was at. Sometimes my wife needed the blindfolds and bonds as much as I did.
She opened her arms. “Love me however you need. Give me whatever you have to give tonight and I will be happy.”
I laid her back, gently, stroking her ripe breasts, lingering over the tawny mound of her pubic hair. “I love you. You know how much I love you.” My voice was soft, almost a whisper.