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Ilias surged to his feet, put his lips to her ear, and said, “Good girl.”
Josslyn gasped, looking up just enough to meet his gaze in the mirror. Twin flags of color rode high on her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered closed as he slid the wand all the way out of her ass.
“Beautiful. That was so sexy. So obedient.”
He wrapped an arm around her and pulled Josslyn up against his chest. This time, she swayed, eyes half closed. Ilias grabbed the collar of the suit and yanked it down.
He got it as far as her ribs with that first pull. Her bare breasts were flushed pink and framed by her arms which were pulled tight against her sides, thanks to the material now bunched just under her tits.
She inhaled, arching her back slightly, asking silently for his touch. He plucked each nipple, then gently slapped her breasts before grabbing the roll of fabric and forcing it down to her hips.
He’d done his share of surfing and had expected the removal process to be something like peeling off a damp, sandy wetsuit. It wasn’t. Just as getting it on had been a far more delicate operation than jumping into a wetsuit, getting it off was also harder.
Ilias gently worked her arm out of one sleeve, massaging the faint line the cuff left on her wrist. He repeated it with the other arm, then sat on the stool once more.
“Hands on the counter.”
She bent over.
“Good girl.”
He didn’t miss her reaction to the words.
Ilias squeezed the glossy curve of her ass before grabbing the fabric-bunch at her hips and slowly pulling it down.
When he got it down to her upper thighs, there was enough of a gap that he was able to see the shiny red tubes of fabric stretched between the suit and her holes. He slowly pulled them out of her.
When the anal sheath slipped free, and her ass was able to fully close for the first time since he put her in the suit, she moaned in relief.
After that, he made quick work of peeling the rest of the suit off. She smelled like sweat, arousal, and warm rubber.
“Into the tub.”
She put one foot in. “It’s cold!”
“In,” he commanded, adding a little swat to her ass to get her going. “It’s not cold, it’s just not hot.” Though cooler than body temperature, the water was by no means cold.
With a hiss, Josslyn slid down into the tub. Ilias perched on the side, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.
Then he waited. Though he had a full day planned, they might need to take a break, step out of the power exchange, and engage in some aftercare after this particular scene.
He was ready and waiting to go either way— continue their play with the next scene, or shift, temporarily, into aftercare.
What they did next depended on her.
Josslyn had pressed her forearms against her breasts and knees together as she sank down into water. She’d watched him roll up his cuffs, and when he was done, she sighed, eyeing his forearms.
Ilias sat on the wide lip of the tub, one knee drawn up.
Josslyn took a breath then dunked under the water. She stayed under for a moment, her hair swirling around her. When she surfaced, she looked slick and sleek, with a little strand of hair plastered to her cheek. He reached out and carefully slid it back behind her ear.
Josslyn looked up and, for a moment, her gaze met his. His stomach muscles tightened, and his cock twitched in reaction to the way she looked at him.
That soft, submissive look made him want to do things to her, and for her. Made him want to give her all the pleasure and pain she could take. He wrestled down his need, started to mentally transition to aftercare, because her body language—gaze up, hiding her breasts, legs together—said she was done for now.
Then Josslyn lowered her gaze and spread her knees.
She dropped her arms to her sides. Her hands floated in the water, palms up.
