The door opened. And closed.

She swallowed hard. From her position, kneeling at the foot of the bed, she listened to him hang his keys up. Anticipation heightened everything. One text was all it took, and just thinking about it made her wet.

"Be ready"."

She was always ready.

He took his time in the kitchen, purposefully taking care of his lunch box slowly, letting the atmosphere build in their house. He knew exactly what was waiting for him, knew she could hear him. Knew she wanted him. This. It was an altogether small part of their beautiful marriage, but an important one nonetheless. And it had been a while, work and life keeping their intimate moments farther in between than either of them wanted. But he had talked and worked his way into an early night off. So he had sent the text. And knew she'd be ready.

His footsteps echoed down the hall, reaching their bedroom at a leisurely pace. He stopped just inside and simply looked.

She was blindfolded, as was usual for evenings like this. On her knees in the corner of the bed closest to the door. He could have been directly in front of her in two steps. But he waited, admiring the view. Short, curly dark locks fell across her forehead which was tipped downward. Behind with the blindfold, he knew that her eyes would be almost gray by now, cloudy and wide as arousal grew. He loved that her head was down, submissive and highlighting the wonderful skin of her neck, which he would later decorate with his mark. He grew hard just thinking about it. Her skin was always so soft, he loved running his hands over her, marveling at it and feeling every twitch, every jump as she responded to him. Her lovely long legs were folded under her but he knew how it felt to have them wrapped around him, urging him faster. Her hands were folded quietly in her lap, but he knew how it felt to have them wrapped around his cock. Her breasts swayed gently with her breathing, inviting him. And her lips. She was gently biting at the bottom one, the only outward sign of her nerves. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He knew she was already wet for him. It didn't matter how long they were married, he would always find her beautiful and wonder how the hell he had gotten so damn lucky.

Truth be told, this had started out as her idea. She was such a fiery spirit, in charge of everything, always in control and on top of things. But not here. Here, she needed. Here, she let go. Here, she became someone different, someone without a million responsibilities, someone not in control of house or job or children. Here, she trusted someone else completely. Him. And he had surprised himself with how much he enjoyed doing this for her. It had taken lots of talking and experimenting and practicing, but he understood. And he loved this. That he was her person. He rode that high much like she rode the one of submitting. He knew everything about her, how to push her and how to break her. How to soothe her and make her fly apart. She needed him.

He stepped towards her.

She inhaled the scent of him. She felt his presence in their bedroom like a physical touch, though she knew he was only in the doorway. She exhaled, not moving but feeling his eyes on her. She let him look his fill. It wasn't her place right now to do anything. She tried to control her breathing as the tension ramped up. She felt the need growing. She needed to please him. Here, it wasn't about her. Here, she could simply be because the only thing that mattered was pleasing him. She would do whatever was asked, take whatever he gave, endure whatever it was he wanted to do to her because it pleased him and that, in turn, pleased her. And so she stayed motionless.

Finally he moved. But not to her. He stepped around the bed and she listened as he took off his shoes. Next, his belt, pants and shirt. He'd stay in his briefs just to torture them both a little longer.

She felt the bed dip behind her. Still, she didn't move. A finger trailed down her spine. A little more wriggling and his mouth was at her shoulder, nipping and licking and suckling. She inhaled sharply, then hissed as a hand reached up, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her head to the side, the harsh movement a contrast to the gentle slide of his tongue up her neck. She bit her lip to hold back the moan as he nibbled an earlobe. He breathes hotly in her ear.

"Mine."

It was branded in her psyche. She was his, to do with as he please. In this bedroom, in this moment, nothing else mattered. She had always been his.

She didn't respond. He grabbed her hair harder, forcing her to gasp and move slightly sideways. He bit the junction of her neck and shoulder none to gently, felt her whimper. "Say it."

She remained quiet.

He smirked against her shoulder. So this was how they were playing tonight.

Using the fistful of hair he held, he dragged her backwards, forcing her onto her back as he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with his body as he captured her mouth. He was forceful, demanding she respond. And she did. She kissed back just as fiercely, needing just as badly. He kissed her deeply, tongue mapping the mouth that belonged to him and no one else. He stroked her tongue, building her up. She pushed against him, warring for control of the kiss. He dragged her head back and bit her lower lip, loving her small moan. He pulled back. She was panting, her lips now swollen and her neck exposed. He leaned down to nibble her chin, dragging his five o'clock shadow across her jawline. He felt the breath hitch underneath him, felt her fingers flex where they were caught under one of his thighs.

"Stay."

He climbed off, reaching into their side drawer for what he wanted as well as pulling other things out. Moving back to her, he started lacing her hands into the cuffs. They were black, and once laced to each individual hand, they laced together so that her hands were bound together. From there, he could either hold onto the string or tie it up. For now, he left her bound hands on her stomach. She yelped as he grabbed her and tugged, moving her to the side of the bed. He retook a fistful of her hair, turning her face towards him.

"Suck."

He watched with greedy eyes as she licked her lips and then opened her mouth and waited. Waited to be filled with his cock. He wasted no time burying himself inside that invitation. He set a fast rhythm, plunging in and out, enjoying himself as he watched her suck him. Her cheeks hollowed with each pull and her tongue laved him with every thrust. She loved sucking him off.

"Touch yourself."

That earned him a moan. God he loved her noises. He watched her fingers crawl down her body to dip into heaven. He felt her mouth tighten as she rubbed her clit. He slowed his pace to watch her, loving that she was wet just from pleasuring him. From wanting him. He pressed slowly into her mouth, bumping her throat, forcing her to swallow. He pulled back, allowing her to breathe deep before pressing back in. He felt her muscles swallowing around him and gave a small noise of his own. God she felt so good. He moved back from her completely, listened to her whine and smirked.

"You're wet for me."

He made it a statement.

"And yet you deny your ownership."

She was struggling to get her breathing back under control. She was still touching herself, hand moving slowly. "Stop moving." The hand immediately ceased. "Tell me who you belong to."

She bit her lip.

She was so hot. She wanted him back in her mouth, or better yet in her pussy but she held back any response. Wanting him to push her. Wanting him to force it. Take it. Make her say it.

In less than a second he was back down her throat and she was inhaling through her nose to keep from gagging. She relaxed her throat muscles and worked her tongue, pleasuring him with all she had.

"You love my cock down your throat. No one else's. Your wishing my cock was deep inside you, fucking you hard. I'm going to bet your making a mess on the bed you're so wet for me."

He reached down and plunged two fingers deep inside her. If she hadn't had his cock in his mouth, she'd have screamed at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. As it was, she felt him groan, from the vibrations on his cock or the hot moisture on his fingers she didn't know.

"This is mine. You are only like this for ME." He worked his fingers hard and fast inside her, and she fought not to squirm. But she couldn't. She ground down against him, seeking more, groaning and gasping at the sudden loss as he once again pulled away completely.

"I didn't tell you you could fucking move."

She was over his lap before she could comprehend what was happening. He maneuvered her so that her hands were under her, shoulders and head hanging over and ass centered perfectly. "You will count." SLAP.

"Ahhhh," she gasped. The pain was always there, the pleasure bloomed later. "One."

Slap.

She wriggled. The heat burned. "Two."

Three. Four. Five.

She was panting, a sheen of sweat starting to show.

Six. Seven. Eight.

The pleasure burned hot, her ass on fire, her womb clenching with every impact. She wanted to come. His hand was so hot on her ass.

Nine. Ten. And then his fingers were inside her, pushing inside brutally, fucking her as she bucked against him, seeking friction on her clit. Anything to alleviate the ache he had caused. "Please," she whispered.

"You're ready to come just from a little spanking?" he laughed. She nodded vigorously, still moving desperately against his fingers. "Not a chance. You don't come until you know exactly who you belong to. Who controls you. Who owns you."

He stood, scooping her up and tossing her onto the bed. He followed her up there, grabbing the tie that held her wrists and pulling them up so that she wriggled up the bed. He placed her hands on his chest as he pushed his way back into her mouth. He was slower this time, simply reveling in how much she needed him for this. He loved to have control of her hands. Besides her face, they were the most expressive part of her. They flexed and clenched against him as she worked him with her mouth. He brought them to his lips and bit at a fingertip, feeling her jolt under him as he licked and sucked at her fingers. She was so on fire for him. Needed him to make her come. But they weren't nearly done yet.

He moved up to the head of the bed, pulling her with him so that he could tie her hands to the headboard. He propped pillows behind her shoulders so she was not uncomfortable and slightly sitting up. He kept his eyes on her as he reached for something from the table.

He watched her body tense as she heard the bells. He smirked as he what he wanted. She knew exactly what was coming. She panted harshly.

He straddled her. "How have I gone so long tonight without paying attention to your exquisite breasts? You distracted me with your defiance. Now I have to fix this problem."

He knew her breasts were particularly sensitive. And not to the gentle stuff. No, his woman liked it rough. He swooped down and captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking harshly and feeling her buck beneath him. She cried out as he bit down harshly, only to follow it up with hard licks. He suckled hard, feeling her tremble, then pulled back to blow cold air across the pink nub. She hissed.

"This is mine," he growled against her. He dragged his tongue across it once more before grabbing her breast and attaching the nipple clamp.

Fire. Fire streaked from her nipple to her clit and back again. He didn't give her much time to think about it as he attacked her other breast in the same fashion, clipping the other clamp in place. The clamps had bells on them, something that made her roll her eyes when they got them. They actually had several pairs of nipple clamps but this one was his favorite. She couldn't think. Her nipples throbbed, her hips moving restlessly as her entire core ached for more. There as so much pleasure mixed with the pain. It was a line she loved to walk.

He scooted back and she reveled in the feel of his hard cock dragging against her. Then all thoughts were lost as he licked the valley between her breasts. He licked all over, small strokes and long sweeps of his tongue, bathing her breasts, tasting every inch of her. She whimpered when he stabbed his tongue against the clamp, blew hot air across it.

"Look at you, tied up and needing me. And you do need me, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Good girl."

Propped up on the bed, hands tied, blindfolded, nipple clamps moving with her every breath. She was just so damn beautiful. And he needed to taste more of her.

He mouthed his way down her body, dipping into her bellybutton so that he could feel her small laugh and the groan as the movement caused the nipple clamps to pull and jingle harshly. He dipped his tongue into the divots of her hips just to feel her squirm against him. And he especially loved the loud groan he got when he finally licked across her clit.

He force her legs wider apart, held them open so he lick at her. He would never tire of this. Of pleasuring her. Of her taste. He stabbed his tongue deep, then dragged up and circled her clit, listening to her cry out. All day. He could do this all day. But his cock was throbbing and he wanted to bury himself in her. To feel her clench around him. To claim her.

After a few more licks to her clit, he pulled back, moving to untie her hands from the headboard.

"Hands and knees."

He watched her struggle to obey. She rolled to her side and then up onto her knees. She balanced her hands and forearms in front of her and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. While she moved, so did he and the second she was balanced his hands were at her hips and he was sheathing himself inside her. Both of them moaned.

"So fucking hot and tight for me. Only me. Say it."

She muffled her cry in her hands as he gave a little thrust of his hips, touching deeper. A hard smack on her left butt cheek and she cried out, clenching around him. "Fucking hell," he groaned. "Who do you belong to?"

"Please," she whispered. He reached around her to flick her clit and she was so close it hurt. "Please."

"Who's body is this? Who gets to fuck you? Who gets to pleasure you? Who do you BELONG to?" He roared.

"YOU!" she screamed. "Only you."

Immediately he was hammering into her, pushing her into the bed. He used his hand to push her shoulders down, ass up in the air. She struggled for air as he pounded into her, loving his hands on her hips, pulling her back to him, the sounds of skin on skin and their ragged breathing filling the air. Her bound hands grasped at the pillows. The bells were sounding wildly as her breasts swayed beneath her, their bite of painful pleasure adding to the storm of pleasure overtaking her.

And then he was gone, pulling out and flipping her over, dragging her legs open and thrusting back inside. "Hands over your head and don't you dare fucking move them." She obeyed him without thinking as he placed his hands on either side of her head and thrust powerfully inside her, a hard quick rhythm that drove them both to the edge. But he stopped and she wailed. He moved one hand to her throat and she instantly stilled. With the other hand he moved the blindfold up so he could see her eyes. He moved slowly now, holding eye contact as he squeezed her throat. Her eyes darkened. He relaxed his grip, his hips still moving. "I fucking own you," he said harshly. "You are mine." He gripped again even as she nodded her head. She moved her chin up, still holding eye contact, offering him total power.

Her body sang. Her blood flowed like molten lava in her veins, growing hotter with the oxygen deprivation. This. This was what it was all about. The ownership. The trust. He had her at his mercy and she trusted him with this. With her. Needed this. Needed him.

He moved his thumb gently over her throat, stroking as he picked up his pace. She was so hot, her body sucking him back inside that torturous heat and clinging to him. He kept his pressure constant but light against her throat, feathering her throat with his thumb. She was amazing. She amazed him every day. He lost himself in her, moving with abandon, chasing their orgasms.

"Please," she gasped. "Let me come for you."

He groaned. "Ask again."

"I want to come for you. Please make me come for you. Please!" she begged. She was losing this battle and she needed his permission.

"Fuck yes. Come for me." He moved the hand from her throat and pressed the heel of his hand against her clit. She immediately screamed and in another two, three thrusts, she was gone, flying high into a million pieces. He would never tire of seeing her fall apart for him. Her orgasm pulled his own, her body milking his seed from him as he groaned his release, hips stuttering, her name on his lips.

He waited, trying to catch his breath as her body still rippled against his in little aftershocks. He eventually pulled out, laughing quietly at her small moan and pout. He pushed one finger inside to just hear her sigh. He pulled his hand out and moved up, intentionally brushing her clit just to feel her jerk.

"That was mean," she whispered.

"Mmm," he agreed. He moved to her breasts, slipping one of the clamps off only to replace it with his mouth. He knew that the pleasure pain still burned after the orgasm and he did his best to help alleviate the discomfort. He waited until her breathing settled before removing the other clamp. Once both nipples were adequately soothed, he unbound her hands, bringing them down slowly and unlacing them, slowly slipping them off the individual wrists before massaging both wrist and shoulder, making sure she was ok.

She turned towards him and snuggled up to him as he curled his arms around her.

"Thank you."