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She didn’t say anything for several long, agonizing seconds. Nick held his breath, startled at how desperately he wanted her to say yes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cared so much, or so quickly, about a woman. But Sophia wasn’t like anyone he’d ever known before.
At last, her eyes sparkling, Sophia replied, “I’m in.”
Chapter 3
Sophia woke early the next morning. After a delicious breakfast out by the pool, she took a swim in the ocean.
Nick and she had shared a nightcap at the tiki bar after their extended beach walk the night before. As they talked further, she had agreed that if things moved to a more sexual level as a result of the BDSM play, she was game to go all the way. Entrance to the island required a clean bill of sexual health, which took away that awkward bit of negotiation. When he’d asked about a condom, she demurred, explaining she was on the pill.
They’d arranged to reconnect that morning to begin a more serious exploration of sensory deprivation coupled with bondage and erotic torture. She hadn’t seen Nick yet. He had probably been ensconced in his room making multi-million dollar deals. The thought made her smile. He was so not her typical kind of guy. She usually fell for the artistic types—the ones who didn’t have two cents to their name. The ones who wrote poetry and played the guitar and had lots of dreams but rarely the ambition to bring them to fruition.
Nick was clearly driven, and that was okay. She was driven, too, even if what got her going was finding a gorgeous Blanaid crystal vase tucked away at the bottom of a box of Depression Era juice glasses she’d picked up for twenty dollars. Nick was obviously good at what he did, but he didn’t seem to be overly-impressed with himself. She didn’t get that sense of entitlement some Wall Street types seemed to wear like a second skin.
He was definitely dominant, but not obsessed with titles and protocol as so many players she encountered in the scene were. And he’d made her laugh, which was as important in Sophia’s book as making her fly.
After her shower, Sophia selected a red tank top over a black sarong with a long slit up one thigh. She didn’t bother with a bra. Even so, she almost felt overdressed on this BDSM island where half the subs went around naked or nearly so.
She arrived at the private bondage room on the second floor at the agreed upon hour of ten o’clock that morning. The door to the room was slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, she tapped lightly and pushed it open.
Nick was already inside, his back to her. He turned as she entered, his face lighting in a wide smile that made her smile back. “Good morning,” he said. “I was just getting a few things ready for our adventure.”
He was shirtless, his chest smooth and broad. He wore black leather pants that accentuated his muscular legs and the rather attractive bulge at his crotch.
“Wow,” she blurted. “You look good enough to eat.”
“All in good time,” he replied with a sexy grin. “Come in and close the door.”
The windowless room was softly lit by sconces set along the upper walls. The space was dominated by a bondage table on one side, a St. Andrew’s cross on the other. The back wall had a built-in counter with cabinets both above and beneath it. A recovery couch was set against a side wall next to a dorm-size refrigerator.
Along with a few items Sophia couldn’t quite identify, Nick had set out various toys on the counter, including a vampire mitt, a sleep mask, several candles, an ice bucket and a set of rather sharp looking knives. Just the sight of the sexy toys got her nipples hard.
“Before we get started with the sensory deprivation, I think a good, hard spanking is in order.”
“You do, huh?” Sophia said lightly, though her cunt instantly moistened with expectation.
“I do,” he agreed with a smile, though his gaze left lines of fire over her skin. “Get naked and come lie across my lap.”
Nick settled himself on the recovery couch as Sophia pulled off her clothing. Approaching him, she set her things on one of the arms of the sofa. She felt slightly awkward as she draped herself over his lap. The awkwardness fell away as he took hold of her wrists and extended her arms out against the couch cushions while simultaneously trapping her legs between his.
“Stick up your ass,” he directed. “Offer it to me.”
His hand came down hard, the slap echoing in the room as the sting spread in welcome heat over her skin. She adored being held down as his hand crashed down against her ass. She squirmed against his leather-covered thighs, the bulge at his crotch hard beneath her. He struck her again and again, each blow sending a jolt of perfect pain through her body and a flash of raw, throbbing desire through her sex.
