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The pain makes me feel alive, causing the blood to stir in my veins. I want more.
“Are you going to be a bad wife again?” he asks.
With a breathy whimper, I reply, “Yes.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Just then, the other clip latches around my left nipple, and I squeal. My hands are clenched in fists on my lap. I have to fight the urge to pull the nipple clamps off, but I breathe through the ache again, letting it settle deep in my bones. I’ve never felt like this in my life—stunningly sexual and unashamed. It feels like a peek behind the curtain, and I want to see more. I want to try more.
Dean crouches behind me. “We’re going to be very gentle with you tonight. Do you understand?” He whispers.
Without saying it, I understand what he’s expressing. That, until I take a test, there is always a possibility that I could be pregnant. A thought now that leaves me feeling a mixture of dread and apprehension.
I don’t like the reminder that I could be pregnant. I don’t want to stare into the eyes of that possibility because I’m afraid of what I might find. We started all of this with Dean to improve our sex life so that baby-making would be easier, but what we’ve really found is so much more. We found a person who fits so well that our relationship has become something new entirely. Sexually, emotionally, intimately.
And maybe…with this new development, our old dreams aren’t the same as our new dreams.
“I understand,” I whisper to Dean.
“Tell me, Briar,” he says, stroking my hair across my bare back. “Do the nipple clamps hurt?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“How do you feel about that pain?”
“I like it,” I reply.
“That’s a good girl.” His voice changes as he says, “Go sit on that bed,” and I can tell he’s talking to Caleb.
I glance up to see my husband stand and walk to the bed against the wall. He sits, wearing nothing but his black tuxedo pants. I love seeing this side of him, looking so confident and sexy.
The soft hand petting my hair turns painful as Dean buries his fingers at the base of my scalp, grabbing a handful of my hair, causing me to let out a hiss.
“Crawl to your husband,” he mutters in a deep command.
I move on to all fours, the nipple clamps hanging nearly to the floor. As I move slowly across the room toward Caleb, he licks his lips at the sight.
When I reach him, Dean says, “Get on his lap. Face down.”
Climbing onto the bed, I do as he said. My ass is in the air as I press my belly across Caleb’s thighs. Dean takes my wrists in his hands, gathering them against the small of my back. I feel the leather cuffs tighten around my wrists, holding my hands in place. I am completely surrendered to them, but I feel no fear, only excitement.
“Your wife likes a little pain, Caleb,” Dean says.
“I noticed,” Caleb replies coyly.
“Let’s see how much she likes it,” Dean adds. “We’re gonna start with six, Briar. Okay?”
“Okay,” I reply.
“How are you feeling? Can you give me a color? Green, yellow, or red?”
“Green,” I reply, staring at the floor.
The riding crop lands against my ass cheek with a resounding smack, and the pain is more intense than I anticipated. The sting travels all the way down my leg and up my spine. I suck in a gasp.
“Look at that red spot already,” Caleb says, rubbing my ass and massaging the place where Dean just smacked me. I feel him fidget beneath me as if he’s already getting aroused. “That was one,” he says softly.
When he takes his hand away, the riding crop lands again, this time on the opposite cheek. It hurts just as much, but like the nipple clamps, I breathe into the pain. I let it consume me and flow through my veins. It feels like my body is waking up, making my arousal ten times stronger.
