A strange whistle and then a crack made her jump. The sound came from around the corner. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was distinct and raised goose bumps on her skin. Instinctively, she stood very still. She knew immediately that Savage was using one of his whips. The compulsion to see him in action was extremely strong. Just the sound of the whip cracking in the air sent heat rushing through her veins. At the same time, there was trepidation, her heart accelerating.
She wanted to be everything for Savage. She really did. She didn’t know why she responded the way she did to the pain and pleasure he mixed together. She was ashamed of the way she seemed to need his hand on her bottom or the clamps on her nipples in order to become excited, but she wanted to be more like he was and own her sexuality. She just wasn’t certain how to do it yet, or if she could follow him as far down the dark path as he needed her to go.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk around the corner to view the courtyard that was hidden from everyone. It was right off their bedroom, if one chose to access it from the sliding glass door and the porch there.
Savage stood in the middle of the yard. He was dressed in only a pair of soft vintage blue jeans. When he moved, his muscles rippled beneath the skin, bringing his tattoos alive and showing every scar and burn on his back.
Mannequin figures were set at various distances from him, some with their backs to him, some facing him. Thin paper covered their material skin. She could see through the paper to the white material that covered the wire bones of the cage that was the bodice of each mannequin. It seemed as if the entire courtyard had various visitors, all posed in different positions, some facing slightly away from the bedroom, some with their backs fully to it. Others had their fronts fully exposed, and others were turned slightly to the side.
Savage didn’t even appear as if he was looking directly at the mannequins. He noticed her immediately, which didn’t surprise her. He was always aware of his surroundings. He spun around, his body a blur as the whip became an extension of his arm, singing through the air, landing in perfect symmetry, producing a line to add to the obvious tree he was creating on the back of the model he was using.
The lines were beautiful. He was beautiful. She could see the various patterns he’d created with the whip as well as others. He was so casual, so on target, even as he was smiling at her. She was so caught up in his artistry that it took a moment to realize how her body reacted to the whip. The crack of it. The way it flew through the air and landed with such perfect precision. Her entire body flooded with endorphins. Hot blood rushed through her veins and pooled low. Her clit throbbed and her sex clenched. Her head went up and her hand fluttered to her throat protectively. Even the sound of the whip was thrilling, but watching Savage wield it was more of a thrill than anything else. Her breath caught in her lungs and just burned there.
“Good morning,” he said as he casually coiled the whip. “I expected you to sleep the day away.” He came right to her and bent his head to kiss her.
His kisses were never fast, not little pecks. He took his time. All heat. All fire. Taking her over. Pulling her to him, one hand spanning her throat and the other fisting in her hair and holding her head absolutely still for him. She gave herself to him. Surrendering. Sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her body as close to his as she could get, still a little shocked that he could actually be hers.
When he lifted his head, she turned to gesture toward the mannequins. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, Savage.” She indicated the various patterns. “It’s really beautiful. I didn’t realize art could be done with a whip.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Thank you, angel. That’s exactly how I see it. My art. I need to see your nipples, baby, just to make certain we didn’t get too crazy last night.” He set the whip on the railing and caught the hem of her tank top, pulling it over her head. “I can do quite a lot of things with whips. Did you remember to use the lotion?”
She nodded, shivering a little at the darkness in his eyes. “What are you doing out here?”
“Practicing. I practice every day. Now that I’ve got you, I’ll step that up even more. I want to make certain I don’t make any mistakes. I never want to cut into your skin too deep and leave a scar.”