I lie on our picnic blanket and gaze up at the clear, blue, summer sky, my view framed by meadow flowers and tall green grasses. The heat of the afternoon summer sun warms my skin, my bones and my belly, and I relax, my body turning to Jell-O. This is comfortable. Hell no . . . this is wonderful. I savor the moment, a moment of peace, a moment of pure and utter contentment. I should feel guilty for feeling this joy, this completeness, but I don’t. Life right here right now is good, and I’ve learned to appreciate it and live in the moment like my sweet loving boyfriend.

The strands of the flogger skim across my belly at an aching, languorous pace.

“Have you had enough yet, baby”?Daniel whispers in my ear.

“Oh, please.” I beg, pulling on the restraints above my head as I stand blindfolded and tied to the shower rod.

“Please what?”

I gasp. “Please, Sir.”

Daniel laces his hand over my ringing skin and rubs gently.

“There. There. There.” His words are soft. His hand moves south and around, and his fingers slide inside me.

I groan.

“Talia ” he breathes, and his teeth pull at my earlobe. “You’re so ready.”

His fingers slide in and out of me, hitting that spot, that sweet, sweet spot again. The flogger clatters onto the floor and his hand moves over my belly and up to my breasts. I tense. They are sensitive.

“Hush,” Daniel says, cupping one, and he gently brushes his thumb over my nipple.

“Ah.”

His fingers are gentle and enticing, and pleasure spirals out from my breast, down, down . . . deep down. I tilt my head back, pushing my nipple into his palm, and moan once more.

“I like to hear you,” Daniel whispers.