“You have definitely earned your orgasm, slave. You can have it tomorrow in the bathtub – if you can stand to jerk yourself off that is. Mister Naughty might be a bit tender for awhile. It’s going to take some time for me to toughen you up to my standards I’m afraid.”
Physically and emotionally drained as I am, I barely react to this. Tomorrow – and indeed the rest of my suddenly supremely daunting marriage – will just have to take care of themselves. Right now I desperately need to sleep. I have to be at work in less than six hours after all. But then Amelia does the one thing (or more accurately fails to do the one thing) that could stir me from my dazed lethargy. Grabbing the rumpled sheet and coverlet from the side of the bed where I cast them before arranging the pillows and lying do
