Page 128 of Made Better Together

“Open. Atta girl.”

Finally, he breaks the chain. “I have the dressing all over my thumb and index finger. Suck them clean for me.” Despite the command, he doesn’t move. Is he waiting for affirmation?

“Yes, Sir.”

“Open.”

This time, the rough skin of his thumb stays in my mouth, zesty from the vinaigrette and his natural taste. I close my mouth and do as he asks. I suck.

A choking sound comes from him, but he cuts it off quickly. His heavy breathing fills the air around us instead, as he moves his index finger into my mouth to replace his thumb.

I wrap my mouth around the finger, and clean it off too.

“You listen so well, my perfect girl.”

He’s happy with me. Warmth at his praise threads around the contentment I was already feeling.

When he withdraws it, I wait as he rustles around. “Wait” means something different from usual, though. My body is blissfully free of any nerves, any anticipation. He’ll tell me what I need to do, when he’s ready. I stay snug on the couch, melting into the cushion.

After another few seconds, he explains what’s next: grilled salmon bites. We do the same steps for the salmon, him hand-feeding me again. He’s more vocal this time, his voice confident.

“What a good girl.”

“My beautiful Rosy. Listening so well.”

“I’m proud of you for eating every bite.”

Pleasure thrums through my chest at each affirmation. My world is simple. His voice, his commands, his approval.

Once we’re done with that round, something else clicks open. “Time to drink. I put a straw in this water for you.”

His “open” is followed by the feel of plastic against the tongue. “Drink.”

He holds the water there, as I take several sips. After I lift my head, satisfied, he crouches down, and I can feel his breath on my face.

“So now, Rosy, I had some ideas about how I would eat.” His hand glides up my leg. “What I would eat. If you don’t want to keep going, you can say your safe word.”

I keep my mouth closed. His touch, his warm hand on my leg, sends sizzles up my thigh. All I want is whatever he’s planned next for us.

When I don’t speak, he moves on to his next direction. “Take your cardigan off.” I quickly shrug it off. “Good girl. Next, stand up.”

When I bring myself to my feet, he brushes his hand against the waist of my dress, then stops on my side. “This zipper. If I undo it, I can remove your dress?”

I nod. He pauses to make sure I don’t interrupt him with “red.” When I remain silent, he moves to the top section of my dress and brings the zipper down.

The blue fabric falls to the floor, and I’m left in my black satin strapless push-up bra and matching panties.

The air is warm enough that the temperature is comfortable. I tremble anyway. Still blindfolded, I imagine his eyes running over every inch of my body, all of my exposed skin on display other than what’s covered by my bra and panties.

He’s in complete control of me.

A thrill shoots down to my core. As my breathing picks up, I can feel the press of black fabric on my breasts timed to the movements of my chest.

“You seem to like this, Rosy.” His breath is also raspy. “Excellent.”

“Yes, Sir.”

There’s a gentle touch on my right arm. “I’m going to help you lie down on the couch next.”