“I will buy you a house in France if you’d just elope with me.”
“Nope. But you’re going to buy me a vacation house in France anyway.”
Jensen shot her a disgruntled look. “Then how about we move up our bonding ceremony?”
Anna pretended to consider it. “Wedding first.”
“Damn it, woman. Do you realize what I would have done if they’d tried to give you to someone else this weekend?” The primal violence in his voice made her shiver. After all they’d done this weekend, she should have been too exhausted to even think about sex, but when it came to Jensen, it seemed that she could never get enough.
“I was a little concerned,” she admitted. “But I know you enjoyed making me sweat by pretending to be someone else. Besides, if you get lazy with the sex post-marriage, I might have to find a new Dom. Don’t worry I’ll still have vanilla sex with you.”
“It’s cute that you think I’ll ever let anyone else touch you.”
“Maybe I’ll marry you but get bonded to a different Dom. A husband and a lover. I’d get double presents on Valentine’s day.” Anna fluttered her eyelashes.
“Maybe I’ll buy an island and keep you there naked and chained up.”
Anna laced her fingers with his. “Promises, promises,” she said with a smile.
As they sped down into the city, she felt the real world closing in around her. She’d work ten hour days the rest of this week, and meet with her wedding planner and bridesmaids in the evening. Jensen was finalizing the bid for a DOD design contract, so she probably wouldn’t see much of him until Thursday. Despite the fact that their day-to-day lives left little time for emotional or physical intimacy, they’d be alright—the closeness from this weekend would linger, holding them together even when they were apart.
“Back to the real world,” he said as he parked in their garage. He helped her out, then pressed her back against the car. Jensen kissed her slow and deep.
“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always and forever.”
Anna touched his cheek. “Always and forever.”
Master Leo took the large letter “A” off the board. One letter down, twenty-five to go. His submissive, Gabriela, knelt at his feet. She shifted, the tiny bells that dangled from her nipples jingling. Her breasts were marked by thin stripes from the cane he’d used on them earlier. Watching the people he’d assigned to the letter “B” had inspired him to do some “breast whipping” of his own.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s go see how they’re going to handle ‘branding.’”