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from rising to thrust against the empty air. The climax came, washing over her body without quite sating her need.
    Good God, she wanted another spanking!
    The vibrating ceased, and she groaned. Next to her, the door opened, bringing with it the cool rush of spring. She hadn’t realized how much the car smelled like sex. It took all of her energy to turn her head.
    “Beautiful,” he said. “Simply beautiful.”
    He freed her knees first. The seat belt came next. Blood flooded back into her nipples as he eased the pinch of the clamps. The pins-and-needles feeling made her gasp and writhe. She wanted to call the sensation painful, but it wasn’t. It was uncomfortable, unsettling, and smacking of promises yet unfulfilled. She ached to feel the heat of his hands or his mouth around them, but he showed no signs of doing that.
    He retrieved the egg before seeing to the handcuffs. When he helped her from the car, every muscle in Patricia’s body protested. She had forgotten about the plug filling her ass, but now she was completely aware of it.
    “Come,” he ordered. “I’ve run a bath for you.”
    He led her to the bathroom. She wanted to take a moment to look at the cabin, but he pushed her forward. The flow of water from the tap pounded a steady beat, calling to her from the bathroom.
    “You can see it all later. I’ll give you a half hour alone, Trish. Don’t take out that plug, and don’t masturbate.” With that, he closed the door.
    She stared at the solid piece of wood. At first, she marveled at the changes in her husband. He had always been so kind, treating her with respect. They were equals in all things. Now… He still treated her with respect. There was more kindness in him, but there was also a ruthlessness to him, an iron will that made her thighs weak.
    Gradually, her musings faded, and she noticed the door. A steel bar hung from leather straps that must have been secured on the other side. Manacles dangled from it. Eye hooks were placed strategically down the door. If she were chained to the manacles, a rope could be threaded through them to bind her waist, her knees, and her ankles.
    She blinked away the vision of herself bound there, awaiting Justin’s pleasure or his torture. Perhaps both.
    In addition to a tub large enough for two, the bathroom sported a massage table.
    Steam wafted from the water filling the tub. She turned off the faucet and eased herself into the water. Cream coated the insides of her thighs, and sweat made other parts of her sticky. She wanted to be clean for Justin. Not since her wedding day had she so wanted to floor Justin with her appearance.
    She washed and ran fresh water. Her time was almost up. Maybe he would join her in the tub. Maybe he would bend her over the side and fuck her. Maybe he would tie her to the door. Desire flared, and her hand crept lower, caressing her thigh before finding her soft folds. She pressed her clit. The little nub was already hard and ready.
    “I told you not to do that.”
    Her eyes flew open. She hadn’t heard the door. Her body was submerged to the shoulder, meaning she could only feel the cool air he brought on her face.
    She smiled the most inviting smile she could muster. “I was just thinking about you.”
    He pressed his lips together. Instead of feeling defensive, as she usually felt whenever he displayed this expression, she felt the tingle of anticipation.
    “Stand up and let the water out.”
    She did as he commanded, flipping the lever for the drain with her toe. He wrapped a towel around her and lifted her from the tub. She reached to take the towel from him so she could dry off, but he shook his head.
    “No, Trish. You belong to me. I’ll take care of you.”
    He patted her dry, and then he turned to the array of after-bath products on the counter. They were hers. She hadn’t noticed those before.
    “Lie on the massage table, facedown.”
    The table had a place for her face to rest. She did as he commanded. He traced