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Spencer moved around the room, his anticipation building with each reveal. Kayla had created their own perfect in-home version of some of the themed rooms featured at Sate, combining some of his favorites into a unique sensory playground customized just for them.
An adjustable swing had been mounted in the ceiling, it had a voice activated remote to raise or lower it easily. A massage table had been placed in the corner; beside it, at least half a dozen bottles of scented oils, all his favorites. On the other side of the swing, a sturdy bench and chair also claimed space; a closer look revealed various restraints for wrists and ankles.
Placed throughout were silk covered rolling tables containing an assortment of items for creative sexual play: sound cancelling wireless headphones, silk blindfolds for sensory deprivation, satiny scarves and buttery-soft leather straps.
He couldn’t have crafted a better scene room himself.
“You’ve been busy,” he said huskily, eyeing the collection of new vibrators and plugs.
“A little,” she admitted. “Do you like it?”
Like it? It was as if the woman had a direct line into his dirtiest, wildest fantasies and had assembled everything needed to make them a reality.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She moved seductively across the room until only inches separated them and slipped his jacket off his shoulders. He remained still, wanting to see exactly what she was going to do. Given the gleam in her eye, she already had quite a few ideas.
He loved her ideas.
Kayla unbuttoned his shirt, allowing her nails to scrape his chest. Soon his shirt was gone too, and Kayla took her time kissing and caressing him. When she licked and bit his nipples, he hissed.
“Naked,” he ground out. “Now.”
“Yes, Sir.” People called him “sir” all day as a normal course of business, but when she did it, it drove him wild.
His sexy vixen knew it, too. She smirked and stepped back, turning around so he could unfasten her gown. His fingers were actually trembling.
Before long, her gown was in a puddle on the floor and Kayla stood before him in a white silk laced corset and garters.
No bra. No panties. She was a fucking goddess.
“Jesus,” he said on an exhale. Thank God he hadn’t known what she’d been wearing beneath her wedding dress or they never would have made it through the ceremony, let alone the reception.
She started to unlace the corset. “Leave it.” He planned to take that off himself. Later.
Spencer leaned down and took one nipple in his mouth. Kayla clutched his hair and arched into him eagerly. He released her with an audible pop, moving to the other and laved it with the same worshipping attention.
One hand slipped between her legs. Kayla groaned and widened her stance, greedy for his touch. She must have been every bit as worked up as he was, because with only a few strokes she was coming all over his fingers.
“Mm, I needed that.” She stepped back and dropped to her knees, leveling her gaze on the bulge in his slacks as she licked her lips. “Something tells me you do, too.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Her eyes glittered as she unfastened his slacks, eagerly pulling down his boxer briefs. He’d barely stepped out of his pants before she wrapped her hand firmly around the base and sucked him into her mouth. Like a woman possessed, she stroked and sucked and fondled, rocketing him into ecstasy so fast it was almost embarrassing.
She smiled up at him, smug, triumphant gleam in her eye. “Like our wedding feast, this is going to be a seven course event, too. And this - ” she licked his tip “- was only the appetizer.”