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“Here’s what’s gonna happen next. I’m going to explain to you where we are and why we stopped here. Then, we’re going to toast to the start of our honeymoon and then…” He waited long enough to see more of her sass receding from her eyes as she anticipated his plan. “And then you’re gonna fall to your knees and open wide so I can give you your first face-fucking as a married woman.”
He adored the full-body shiver that ran through her at his dominant promise. He’d missed her submission in the insane month leading up to their holiday wedding.
“About a month ago, I decided to reach out to some friends here on the West Coast to find out where one of the best BDSM clubs might be in town. As you probably noticed, we’ve had to pretty much put our D/s relationship on hold thanks to the holiday and wedding hoopla of the last month. Between visiting family, last minute hiccups, parties to plan and attend… well, you get the drift.” He softened his voice as he continued, “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t change a single thing about the wedding. Everything you planned… the decorations, flowers, food, venue… Christ, your dress… it was perfect, Tiff. You did such a great job taking charge of all of the important wedding details and I couldn’t be prouder to call you my wife.” He saw a sheen of tears in her eyes at his words of praise.
“But now it’s time for you to relax—to remember how to hand over control—to embrace that sexy submissive side of yourself that I love just as much as my sassy Tiff. For the next two days, we’re going to make sure we welcome my dominance and your submission back into our marriage. We’re also going to enjoy playing in a new club where no one knows us and where we can maybe explore a few new kinks while reconnecting with the D/s dynamics of our relationship.”
In the old days—before Tiffany—he would have stopped his explanation there. But hell, since he wouldn’t even be on a honeymoon without Tiffany, he knew he had to add one final thing, because he’d promised not to keep secrets from his wife.
“And finally, tomorrow night I am going to be meeting some of the dungeon monitors from the club downstairs, Black Light, to see if any of them might be Dungeon Master material for The Pit. As you are painfully aware, it’s been likeMission Impossible’trying to find someone to take over the leadership at the club. It’s been insane for both Derek and me to keep juggling that part of the business along with everything else. It’s bad enough that the instability of the shows has started impacting membership totals, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it interfere with our marriage.”
One lone tear spilled over, streaking down Tiffany’s cheek as he felt her body melting against him. He’d half expected her to put up a fight to maintain her recent level of assertiveness.
“Thank goodness. I know it’s hard to find the right person and while I’ll cross my fingers that you find someone here in California who will be a good fit, don’t for one minute think I don’t know what’s really going on here.”
Okay, maybe she hadn’t shed her sass yet after all.
“Careful with that tone, little girl, or you just might be getting face-fucked with a welted ass.”
Her bright smile reminded him of just how far they had come in the nine months since they’d met. If he didn’t know better, he could swear his wife was aching for her first punishment as a married woman. Ever the hard-core sadist, his cock came to life at the mere thought of hearing her crying out as he put some of the many sex toys he’d brought along to use on her exquisite body.
“I was merely pointing out that I know you arranged to do work on this trip just so you could use a portion of the vacation as a business tax write-off.”
Lukus couldn’t hold back his bark of laughter. “Damn, I hadn’t even thought of that!”
Tiffany held up her glass with her free hand, trying not to slosh it down their clothes. “See, I’m not just a pretty face.”
“Oh baby, I knew that the second I met you. It’s why we’re standing here, on our honeymoon. I wasn’t gonna let anyone else elbow his way into your life once I knew the rare gem I’d found.”
“We really should buy Brianna and Markus a nice gift while we’re away. If they hadn’t fucked up their marriage so spectacularly, we might not have ever met.” They’d talked about it many times in the past, but he wasn’t surprised she brought it up again now.
Although the observation was accurate, he couldn’t resist falling back into the dominant role he’d recently been pressing down.
“While I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Mitchell, I’ll take this opportunity to remind you that we have a no cussing rule for you in our relationship, do we not?” He adored the spark of surprise in her eyes. When she failed to speak, he added. “No worries. I’ve been keeping track for us, at least of the transgressions I heard. Consider yourself lucky that you’ll get away with the ones I missed.”
“What does that mean?” she asked warily.
“It means that you’ve earned forty-seven strokes for the forty-seven cuss words I’ve let pass in the last few weeks.”
“You kept track?” she squeaked.
“Of course, I kept track. What kind of Dom would I be if I let you get away with such total insubordination?” He tried his best to deliver his answer with the proper level of authority, but failed miserably when the smile he’d been holding back refused to be denied. There wasn’t one single thing he was truly upset with Tiffany about, which meant she was in for one good-girl funishment—of course, she didn’t need to know that quite yet.
Ignoring the trepidation on her gorgeous face, he moved his hand back to cup her curvy ass while holding up the flute of warming bubbly with the other. “Now, back to the toast. Tiff, you’re the love of my life. You challenge me in ways I never even knew I was missing, and I can’t wait to play our unique version of tug-of-war with you every single day for the rest of our lives.”
Those must have been the right words, because his wife ignored the sloshing champagne as she threw one leg around his body, yanking him even closer as she went on her tip-toe to crash her lips against his. It was no chaste kiss, but an oral assault of the passionate woman he loved. He thrust his hips forward, ensuring she felt the growing shaft that would soon be cutting off her oxygen when he shoved it down her throat.
There was just one problem. They needed to get rid of the damn champagne glasses, and that meant first pulling out of the scorching hot kiss. He stayed close, resting his forehead against hers as they each caught their breath for a second.
Finally, able to speak, he barked his first order. “Drink your champagne. We need to ditch the glasses.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice. They each lifted their flute, clinking glasses first before each downing every drop. Tiffany coughed as she finished, holding her empty glass up like a trophy. Ready to move things along, Lukus took her flute before taking a step away while ordering her. “Don’t move a muscle.”
It was tempting to rush, but he forced himself to apply the self-discipline that made him the hard-core Master of Masters when he wanted to be. Keeping his back to her, he poured himself another glass before walking a few feet to the straight-backed chair next to the dining table. Pulling it out, he arranged it to face the center of the suite before sitting, casually crossing his left leg over his right, his ankle resting on his knee as he leaned back to take in the vision of his bride standing awaiting his next instruction.
“Now, it’s time to unwrap my favorite present. For starters… take off your shoes.”
Tiffany had no problems with his first request, kicking her comfy travel flats towards the king-size bed. Like a good girl, she waited for his next instruction.
