After we left the police station, Eric took me to his beach house, and we've been here for the past three days. Just lounging, and swimming, eating and talking. Just the two of us, no phone calls to disturb us, and no clothes to get in the way.

He hasn't brought up the whips and chains at all, and neither have I. Though I've been wondering, even fantasizing about all that a little. Because despite him making no mention of it, I know it's what he wants. It's clear in the way he holds me as he makes love to me, controls my body without actually tying me down, brings me to the brink of orgasm and snatching me back. He makes me beg, not by commanding it, but by showing me what I need, what I desire, not giving it until I ask. All of it is very subtle, unspoken, and I want to know how it would feel like to submit completely, surrender to him all the way, let him take me the way he wants to. Let him, and only him, dictate my pleasure. But I've yet to come up with the nerve to ask.

I've even been teaching him to cook these last few days, and right now he's making us pizza, which is the only dish he's confident he won't mess up. The sauce smells great, and I checked out the dough while he stepped away for a minute. It seems like he's got it under control, but I might not be able to eat any because I'm too nervous over what I'm planning to propose.

"Alright, this is it," he announces happily from the kitchen, closing the oven door after having just deposited the pizza inside. "In about fifteen minutes we'll know how good of a cooking instructor you are. But on the bright side, it's still early enough for us to go out for dinner."

It's just past eight, all that's left of today's glorious sunshine a band of hot pink light lining the horizon.

"I'm sure it'll be great," I say, joining him in the kitchen and peering into the oven.

He put all sorts of things on the pizza, including onions, green peppers and artichokes. I had to stop him from adding pineapple too.

I bump into him as I straighten up, but my startled gasp is lost in his playful kiss, which sends my already racing heart into overdrive. He nibbles on my lips, before his tongue invades my mouth, cementing my conviction that submitting to him is what I truly want. What we both want.

The timer's shrill beeping pulls us apart, and the whole kitchen fills with the enticing aroma of a fresh baked pizza as he takes it from the oven.

He orders me to sit down at the table while he prepares everything.

"Alright, moment of truth," he says, placing a plate before me and sitting down.

I cut off a small piece and bring it to my mouth, chewing slowly.

"It's good," I offer, even though the sauce is too salty and the dough isn't salty enough. But what do I know about pizza. Besides, I'm too nervous by what I'm about to ask to even fully taste it.

"Not bad for a first attempt," he says, taking a large bite. "But I can do better."

"It's perfect," I say. "For a first try."

He laughs at that, and it's contagious. Laughing takes the edge off my nervousness, but it's now or never.

I set down my knife and fork, and clear my throat.

He frowns at me. "You're done? It's that bad?"

I lay my hand over his on the table and shake my head. My hand's shaking too, but I ignore it. "After dinner, I'd like to try…no…I'd like you to…"

But I can't find the words.

"Yes?" he says, and I think maybe I don't need words, maybe he already knows. But it's important that I ask. That the words come from me.

"I'd like you to tie me down," I manage. "I'd like to give myself to you completely, the way you want me."

His eyes widen, gleam in the overhead light, but that's the only indication that my suggestion affected him at all.

"Are you sure?" A tightness settles over his features, and I'm hearing a, "No, thank you" loud and clear beneath his words.

"I am," I say and squeeze his hand, which is now completely rigid under mine. "I've thought a lot about it these last few days. I'm not sure I'm ready for the whip and chains, but…"

He stands up, pulling me to my feet. "I will respect your boundaries, always."

And it seems an odd thing to say, but I believe him completely. Trust him as I trust no one else.

"But I expect you to do as I say." He pulls me into a tight embrace. "Say "Joy" when you want me to stop, and I will. I promise you. That's your safe word."

Safe word? But I won't need it. My heart is skipping beats now, anticipation, fear and excitement mixing in my chest, making me lightheaded.

He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom, the pizza forgotten, all else forgotten, the only thing that's truly real this crackling energy rising between us, pulling us closer.

"Strip for me," he says, leaving me by the bedroom door and going to sit on the plush chair by the floor-to-ceiling window.

I can see my reflection in the glass behind him clearly, but all I really notice are his eyes. They're fixed on me with such intensity I couldn't look away if I tried.

I'm wearing a button-down shirt and the first few buttons prove a challenge, but I get the hang of undoing them by the end. All trepidation of doing it wrong is gone as his gaze falls on my naked skin, caressing me like the soft rivulets of a waterfall might. I'm not wearing a bra, make short work of my jeans and panties, because I want him to see all of me, bare and ready.

He walks over, his gaze still caressing me, but that softness is gone in a flash of pain as he twists my nipple, making it stand out, raw and red. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my butt as he pulls me closer, his hard cock jabbing me in the stomach, his tongue demanding entrance into my mouth.

He slaps my butt, sending it jiggling. "I'll make you feel good, I promise. But I want you to hold back your orgasm until I allow you to come."

I look up at him questioningly, my pussy clenching at the memory of past orgasms he's given me, none of which I ever had any hope of holding back.

I bite down on my lower lip. "I'll try."

He releases me, fixing me with a stern look. "You'll do more than try. You'll do it."

I nod, still unsure if it's even doable.

He leaves me and goes to the closet, returns holding two of his long silk ties.

"Get on the bed," he orders, slapping my ass again when I don't obey right away.

"On your knees," he says. "Hands on the railing."

He makes short work of tying my wrists to the bedframe, binding me so tightly the silk digs into my skin. I can barely move my wrists. Both my hands are fastened, so what's the second tie for? But I know better than to ask. Tonight is his night, his call; I will do what he tells me.

As though he heard my unasked question, he takes the other tie and places it over my eyes, tying it at the back of my head, taking my sight. I didn't think it could, but my heart starts racing even faster.

I jerk forward as a stinging, open palm slap lands across my butt.

"Stay still," he orders.

I can't see and I can hardly move, but my pussy is also twitching in anticipation, my nipples tingling, because I know how this works. The pleasure that follows this pain will be amazing, breathtaking, otherworldly.

My ass cheeks are sore and growing sorer from his short, sharp slaps, but I bite my lip and stay as perfectly still as I can.

"I'll say it again," he says hoarsely, as the slaps finally cease and his hand is caressing my burning skin. "You can take it."

I gasp as his fingers brush my clit, the single unexpected surge of pleasure almost enough to undo me.

He clucks his tongue and slaps me again, making me whimper. "Not yet."

His fingers return to my clit, tracing slow, tantalizing circles over my wetness. I gasp as he inserts two fingers, working them into me in a swirling motion, his thumb rubbing my clit. The room I can't see still spins around me at the surging of pleasure his fingers are coaxing from deep within me. I can hear his hitching breaths, hear the creaking of the floorboards as he shifts his stance and the waves hitting the sand outside, but all I truly know is the slow building warmth inside me, heralding the blissful release from all pain my orgasm will bring. My pussy clenches against his fingers involuntarily, seeking more, needing more.

"Do not come yet," he orders, but starts thrusting his fingers into my pussy faster, hooking them, hitting my pleasure spot every time. My mind's screaming at me to hold out, not to come, but my body has different ideas, different needs. I'm screeching, moaning, whimpering, as I try to fight the orgasm threatening to consume me, and give him what he wants, obey, but I'm so close, so dangerously close to coming.

He pulls out his fingers a split second before I lose the fight, tapping my clit a few times, which sends a whole different volley of pleasure mixed with pain through me.

I suddenly feel so empty, so forgotten, so in need to be filled.

The floor creaks as he walks over and stops in front of my face. The smell that is all him explodes around me, and then the velvety soft head of his cock is touching my lips.

"Open your mouth," he groans and I do, gagging a little as he pushes his cock into my mouth. He tastes salty yet sweet at the same time, like the best dessert I could ever wish for. His cock is going so deep I'm choking on each stroke, tears erupting from my eyes behind my blindfold.

"Relax," he says softly, massaging my neck.

And it really is that simple. I've been fighting him, and I don't need to, because he'll give me all the pleasure I seek. I know he will.

My throat opens more on each stroke now, and I'm no longer gagging so much, as I relax like he bid me to. One of his hands is tangled in my hair, holding my head in place, the other caressing my back. The slap that lands on my ass makes me choke, but the pain blends with the pleasure of pleasing him. He slaps me a few more times, driving his cock deeper down my throat each time I yelp.

"I think you're ready for your reward now," he says, pulling his cock from my mouth. "You've been a good girl. But you still may not come until I let you."

I groan involuntarily, which earns me another sharp slap. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"Good."

He spreads my butt cheeks apart, cool air hitting my hot wetness, pain from my well-spanked bottom shooting into my back because his fingers are digging into my flesh. But I'm glad for the pain, because the moment his huge cock invades me, it's the only thing helping me keep the orgasm at bay. His thrusts are powerful, long and deep, and my entire body is screaming for release, but he'll know if I come, if I disobey, and I don't know what will happen, if I can't hold out, can't follow his command. I don't want to fail, I want to give him what he wants. I'm holding my breath, fixating on the pain, which I no longer even feel, because all I do feel is the burning buildup of pleasure his cock is stirring up. Flames are rising higher and higher inside me, licking every inch of my being, inside and out, demanding release, seeking it, needing it, because otherwise I'll end up just a pile of ash on this bed.

"You may come," his words float to me as though from very far away, but feel like water, like relief in its purest form.

The water is mixing with the flames rising inside me now, but instead of dousing them, it makes it all burn brighter, hotter. I scream out his name as I come, harder than I ever have, so hard I'd go blind if I weren't already deprived of sight. All the pain, the mere memory of it is washed away by the cleansing fire of my orgasm, which grows in intensity instead of abating, consuming me, giving me new life as it takes my old one, making me forget my own name.

His cock is still buried deep inside me when I regain my awareness what seems like an age later. He unties my numb hands and removes my blindfold, turning my head so I can look at him. But I'm having trouble focusing, sparks of the blinding pleasure he's given me still crackling everywhere, exploding.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asks breathlessly.

"Yes, a thousand times yes," I answer, feeling like my thoughts and my words are one for the first time in my life.

He steps back, his cock sliding from my pussy, and I'm sorry to let it go. He takes my hand and guides me under the covers, and I rest my head against his chest as he wraps his arms around me.

"You were amazing," he whispers.

I smile up at him, barely able to keep my eyes open. I could sleep for a thousand years, but I don't want to, I want to stay just like this forever. But there's no fighting it.