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"I'll be home around eight, if nothing comes in."
He stood and left me on the bed, going to the closet to pull out a jacket. He stopped at the door and glanced back at me, his expression thoughtful.
"Have a good day. I love you."
"I love you," I said, waving at him, and then blowing him a kiss. "Have a good day at work."
He left me on the bed, still wrapped up in the sheets, already filled with a sense of longing for him.
Class was uneventful. We had the same model from Friday and spent the time working on the studies from the previous week. It was nice to have a full hour to work on one pose. Sefton kept his distance and made no move to approach me or speak with me, so I was happy.
Thursday went by quickly, and soon, Friday loomed. Claire had sent me a long email with instructions for what I'd need to bring on the safari and I'd spent the week packing to make sure I had everything. My shots were all up to date and I was still taking my Malarone, so I was protected from tropical diseases.
For his part, Drake was particularly attentive. He spent a very long time with me in a nice warm bubble bath, used a razor to shave me carefully, then used his rope to tie me up, blindfolded me and made me come several times before he found his own pleasure. Since Sefton appeared on the scene, Drake had not once been completely vanilla with me, as if trying to reinforce our D/s relationship.
I was a bit surprised, for our sexual experiences prior to Sefton's advances, with the exception of the dungeon party, had been almost totally vanilla. As I lay completely bound, the soft ropes confined my hands above my head, my thighs spread wide, my eyes covered with a blindfold, I wondered if Drake wasn't doing this now to remind me that I was still his submissive, that he was my Dominant, and that he was still able to control me, make me respond to him the way he wanted.
Whatever the case, I felt his intense focus on me when we were together, in scene or out of it, and it did make up, at least in part, for the time we spent apart. But we spent most of our time apart – him at the hospital or college, teaching or doing surgery and looking in on his patients and residents. Me alone at home, in my studio or at the Institute. The only time Drake and I were together and awake was when we had sex and now it was always a scene with me tied up and helpless.
Clair and I were leaving with the group on a bus after lunch on Friday, so I had to say goodbye to Drake early in the morning when he was getting ready for work.
I got up when he did, and we shared a shower, washing each other, arousing each other so much that we had sex then and there in the shower. Drake left me in the stream of water while he retrieved a tie. Before he could wrap it around my head, I stopped him.
"It'll be ruined. We don't need one."
"I'll buy another one."
I put my hand on his. "You don't have to do a scene," I said, my voice soft.
"Yes, I do." Then, he wrapped the tie around my eyes, making me a bit disoriented so that I had to rest my hand on his shoulders. "I can't tie you up in the shower, but I want you on your knees."
He helped me down onto my knees, guiding me with his hands under my arms, and I waited for his next order.
"Put your hands behind you, and clasp them. Imagine that they're bound."
I did, and waited, the spray of water warm on my back, my lips open. I felt the tip of his erection press against my lips, so I licked him and then took him into my mouth. I sucked the head, my tongue swirling around the rim, and he began to thrust softly, sliding in and out of my willing lips. He grasped my head with a hand and guided me while he thrust, giving me a bit more each time. I did my best not to gag, and succeeded, wondering if he was going to finish in my mouth, but he didn't.
He withdrew and then lifted me once more, kissing me deeply. I felt such need, I knew I'd come quickly. He turned me around and spread my thighs, pushing my upper body down so that I rested on my hands on the ledge that ran around the shower enclosure. Then, he took me from behind, his arm around me, his fingers on my clit as he thrust.
He kissed my shoulder as he stood over me and his mouth on my neck, his fingers on my clit, and his hardness inside of me, hitting me in the right spot all combined to make me come.
"Sir…" I managed, but he didn't say anything or stop and soon, my legs shook as I went over. He thrust harder, his mouth on my shoulder. When I began to shudder, he bit down on my shoulder as he came. It hurt, a lot more than I was used to, and I gasped.
"Oh, God," he said when he saw the mark, touching it with his fingers. "Oh, Kate, I'm sorry…"
He helped me up, kissing the spot, before removing the blindfold from my eyes. I turned to him and he kissed me deeply, brushing the wet hair from my forehead when he pulled back.
"I hurt you," he said, shaking his head.
"You did," I said quietly and stepped out of the shower to check the mark in the mirror. I could clearly see his teeth marks. It no longer hurt, but was a visible reminder of his loss of control. I wondered if he wasn't subconsciously marking me, and a small part of me felt a sense of glee that he lost a bit of that rigid control. I didn’t like or want pain but it was accidental.
"Marking your territory, Master D?" I said, catching his eye in the mirror.
"Kate, I didn't mean to bite that hard. I—"
"It's OK." I stopped him, my fingers against his lips. "Forget it."
"It was sloppy of me," he said, hitting his forehead lightly with a fist. "It won't happen again."
