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 conscious
ness, 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.”
The murmurs grew. Hands went up all over the crowd. Sabrina wouldn’t mind trying it out, but she wasn’t too excited about the idea of doing it in front of a crowd. Seeing somebody else go through this first would be enough to satisfy her curiosity. Then if Jonas wanted to try it privately, they could discuss that possibility.
Deep red lipstick on Mistress Hera’s lips glistened in the firelight. Her gaze roamed the crowd and stopped on Jonas, who hadn’t raised his hand. She lifted a brow, and he stepped forward, pulling Sabrina along with him. Alarm bells went off inside her head. She recognized that she’d been set up. There would be no discussion. Jonas was in charge. Though they’d nixed the “obey” aspect from their marriage vows, she’d agreed to that condition for the duration of their vacation.
Calm followed the sudden panic, squelching the feeling before it had time to set up shop. As much as she didn’t want to do this for the first time in front of a crowd, she trusted Jonas to make the experience special. He always did.
Mistress Hera offered her hand to Jonas. “Master J. Thank you for volunteering. Can you tell me what kind of experience you have using a tripod?”
He gave her a weird look, as if he expected her to know the answer. Sabrina realized that this woman and Jonas were acquainted through some connection that had nothing to do with the island. She frowned at him, but he shook his head, so she didn’t voice her question.
“It’s been a few years. I remember the basics. You go ahead and talk us through them, and I’ll demonstrate using my sub.” Just like that, he established himself as dominant over the woman in charge of the entire resort.
From her wry smile, it looked like she’d already known what to expect with Jonas. Sabrina was confused. Normally Jonas didn’t have a need to establish himself as the most dominant person in the room. He enjoyed amiable relationships with a number of Doms and Dommes, where he seemed to employ a live-and-let-live approach.
He guided Sabrina to stand next to the tripod, outside of the three legs. One tug, and he pulled her dress completely away from her body. He handed it to a khaki-clad employee, who draped it over his arm.
Sabrina reminded herself that the fire didn’t allow enough light for people to see the details of her stretch marks. Still she was nervous. While she didn’t mind people watching her have sex, she’d never engaged in an instructional demonstration. Would she get an orgasm at the end? If he’d given her one five minutes ago, she probably wouldn’t be so wound up now.
“Masters and Mistresses, pay careful attention. You’ll need to purchase or create a harness. If you create one yourself, you want to use a static rope to avoid unexpected stretching when you hang up your sub.”
Mistress Hera’s voice carried through the crowd. Someone handed a neoprene harness to Jonas. He placed her arms in the loops and adjusted the fit of the straps so that they went around her breasts. She heard a series of snaps as he finished it off in back. Next he guided her into the leg straps and attached them to the thick belt. Again a series of snaps in back told her that he’d attached everything that needed to be linked.
Throughout it all, Mistress Hera described what he was doing. Several times she nudged his hands out of the way to highlight some aspect for the crowd. Sabrina found her body shifted and turned so that everyone could see every step. She felt like a fish in a bowl. This was not hot and sexy. She wished they were back on the bench.
Mistress Hera moved onto the next phase of her talk. She pointed out features of the tripod and how they matched up perfectly with the rings and snaps on the harness.
Jonas leaned close. He rested his fingertips on her waist. “You’re doing great, honey. I know this is going a little slowly, but this next part will more than make up for it.”
She wanted to ask one little question, but it wasn’t exactly a question. It was a rebuke in disguise, and she already knew the answer. Since she couldn’t find a suitable way to tell him that she would have preferred if he’d asked her if she wanted to participate in this demonstration, she just nodded and kept her mouth shut.
The way he held her—possessively, but so lightly—combined with the feel of the harness to reignite her blood. Now that her world had boiled down to just the two of them, she wanted him to take her, fuck her any way he wanted in front of everybody. The key to her desire lay with Jonas. With a look and a touch, he demanded her submission, and she gave it freely. The onlookers and the demonstration no longer mattered.
He moved her into position. First he secured the top part of the harness. Then he slid one arm under her belly and lifted her to secure the bottom section. Through it all, Mistress Hera talked about winches and cooperation as she addressed the concerns from couples whose tops didn’t have the strength to lift their subs.
“Once the submissive is fully bound, she or he is completely powerless.” Mistress Hera stepped closer to Sabrina’s head. She waved her hand close in an approximation of a caress on Sabrina’s face, but she was careful to avoid direct physical contact with another Dom’s submissive. “Master J will now complete the binding.”
Sabrina’s arms and legs dangled down toward the sand. If she stretched her toes, she could probably touch it. The harness didn’t dig into her ribs or thighs uncomfortably. She could get used to this, though she considered the inelegant position on the edge of humiliating.
Jonas tightened cuffs around her wrists and just above her elbows. Then he guided her arms back behind her back and folded them. She heard the snick of the snaps as they were fastened together. She could move her arms, but not far. Next he bent her leg at the knee and secured her ankle cuff. When all was said and done, her ankles were tied to the same O-ring holding her body aloft. It was an interesting position and one that provided no support for her head.
Jonas knelt in front of her and lifted her chin. Flames reflected in his eyes, both literal and figurative. The bonfire cast his tawny depths with an orange glow, bringing out the flecks of brown and gold. “What’s your safe word, honey?”
He’d never asked that question before. She’d never been in this position before. When they’d played in public, it had always been as equals. Well, not quite equal, but she’d felt free to refuse to do something he asked, and he usually asked or somehow made sure she consented.
“Onion.”
A hint of a smile crossed his lips. “Words cannot describe how beautiful you look right now. You’re naked and helpless and mine.”
She was always his, so that was nothing new. And he often had her naked and helpless. Beautiful? She’d have to see pictures to believe it. Jonas was nothing if not biased.
Mostly she felt exposed. She could feel the heat of the crowd’s stare penetrating her most intimate tissues. They swelled and wept, humiliated and wanton.
She choked back a cry. “Jonas, I’m not sure about this.”
He silenced her with a soft kiss, and then he pressed his forehead to hers. “I know, honey. I know. But I am sure, and you’re going to have to find strength and comfort in that.”
It seemed to Sabrina that she’d come to the point where she took the idea of trust for granted. She said she trusted him. She knew she trusted him, but what did that really mean? In the course of their daily lives, they had fallen into a routine where trust meant she knew he would take out the trash and cook dinner. She knew he would run to the store if she asked or change a diaper without a comment about whose turn it was. She knew he would tie her up, hold her down, flog her, and give her a series of orgasms that left her trembling.
But what about when it came to the unknown? They hadn’t tested this situation before. Suddenly she understood exactly what he’d been asking when he made that deal with her. He wanted to push the boundaries of their relationship, deepen their bond.
Letting Go 2: Stepping Stones [Awakenings 5] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 7