The Ex (The Boss 4)

A tall armoire held a selection of sex toys that rivaled some stores I’d shopped at—and I’d shopped at Babes in Toyland. I gasped and touched a soft leather harness dangling from a hook. “Is this a strap-on?” I heard the excitement in my voice. “Oh my gosh, is this for what I think it’s for?”

“I thought we might give it a try sometime. What do you think?” He flushed above his collar.

“I think I can’t wait to fuck you in the ass,” I blurted, startling myself into a fit of giggles.

He grinned. “And I suspect there is a certain red-head you might like to try it out on, if she’s amenable.”

My pussy flooded at the thought, but in my fantasy, our roles were reversed; I imagined her above me, pushing a thick, long dildo into me with a stroke of her hips. I squeezed my internal muscles with every step we took to the next room. It was a bathroom, with a large, white oval tub, a modern vessel in the middle of the floor. Beyond was a barrier-free walk in shower with nine heads and a detachable one on a long hose. There were shackles there, too, and I didn’t have to wonder what Neil planned to do with them. Tormenting me with water was something he particularly enjoyed.

A toilet and sink stood behind their own partition, and a basket of condoms, dental dams, and gloves sat on the counter. So, it was clear that he expected we would bring guests here.

The final room was thoughtful and practical, a small kitchenette stocked with simple necessities like protein bars, electrolyte replacement tablets, bottled water, blankets, comfortable robes and pajamas, and various pain relief supplies. It was basically the anti-sub-drop room.

“This place is…amazing.” I stepped close and slid my palms up the front of his crisp white shirt. “Why is this room the one that turns me on the most?”

“Because you get off on being cared for.” He leaned down to kiss me, and I melted against him. He was right, I did get off on being cared for. I lived for the torment, the extreme pleasure and brutal pain, the loss of control. Through all of that, he showed me love, but the care he gave me after sealed it in my heart.

My mouth parted beneath his, and he supported me with a hand at the small of my back. I held onto his upper arms, my fingers sinking into the muscle there. What was it about his arms that made me want to bite into his biceps like they were apples? The fact that they were now legally bound to me? Was it a sense of pride in ownership?

The thought made me giggle, and he lifted his head to smile down at me. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am. And I assume I’m going to be enjoying myself further tonight? Sir?”

He took a step back. “I think we’re both physically exhausted and emotionally spent. And you know what that can lead to.”

“I do.” On a night like tonight, with my emotions running high and my energy dipping low, I could sub drop so hard, all the aloe and fuzzy PJs in the world wouldn’t help. I could do emotional, and I could do tired, but after a couple of bad experiences, we’d found that I couldn’t do both.

But this was like having someone hand you a bowl of candy then take it away without letting you taste any.

“Maybe…” I tried for cute wheedling right off the bat. “Maybe we could just do a little something?”

He smirked down at me. “I didn’t say we weren’t going to have sex. It would be a waste of a perfectly good ‘boner pill’, as you would put it, if we did not.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just nothing too hardcore. I get it.”

“I do have something…special planned for us tonight.” He slipped into the low, dangerous tone he used as my Sir, and my panties flooded. He lifted my chin with one crooked index finger. “I don’t have to go hard to prove that I possess you.”

My breath skated across my parted lips as he gazed down at me. I saw a dim reflection of myself in the green-gold depths of his eyes. He released me and turned away, walking to the door. “Sophie, come.”

If you keep talking like that, I will. You won’t even have to touch me.

I followed him to the octagonal center room. Though I usually kept my eyes downcast during play, I couldn’t help my longing glance at the tall metal frame. Neil was right; we were both too tired to go wild. But it wouldn’t hurt to fantasize and plan for the future.

“Stand still. Hands at your sides. Keep your eyes on the floor.”

I obeyed automatically.

He moved away, and I kept my gaze trained on the veins in the marble. I imagined them as my veins, blood and desire coursing through them. Then, I thought of the veins on the backs of Neil’s hands, the thick blue lines beneath the thin skin of his wrists. The ridges of them along the shaft of his penis.

It was difficult to stay still.

The first light tones of a baroque harpsichord piece filled the room. The slow, haunting pace of the music was spritely and moody all at once. There was a delicious darkness to it that made my nipples bead inside my bra.

Neil moved behind me. With one hand on my hip, he slowly drew a strap of my dress down. “Turn around.”

He stood so close that when I turned, all I saw was the crisp white of his shirtfront.

“Take off your dress.” Exhaustion made his voice lower and huskier than usual. It sounded the way whiskey made me feel, rough and burning warm. He brushed the backs of his curled fingers down my cheek. “Look at me while you do it.”