Her gaze locked with his. She shed her robe and veil as he removed his uniform. Her skin gleamed like pale ivory, so much more delicate than his own burnished body. He yearned to use his hands to stroke every satiny surface of her body yet disciplined himself to wait, feast his other senses on her ethereal beauty before devouring her. “I like the way your new jewelry matches mine,” she said, her gaze on the new, thicker ring with an emerald-studded captive bead that winked out from his slit while faceted diamonds sparkled from each of the heavier, thicker barbells in his frenum ladder. “So do I.” His collar and cuffs sparkled around her throat, her wrists, and her slender ankles, their clasps welded shut, marking her as his concubine—his personal property. Her skull gleamed in the dim light, pale and bare like his but for the golden flogger at her crown, whose stiffened braided tendrils beckoned his fingers, his tongue. At their mating, he’d take that, too, and use it for her discipline and her pleasure.
