Leashed [Inkitt]

Chapter One

She lived for the exhibitionism. For the course of adrenaline mixed with humiliation that ran through her veins. The villagers weren't as impressed by Preston's mannerisms. They merely whispered.

Having reached their destination, Preston ordered Abigail to sit, snapping his fingers and pointing to a spot on the floor. The same fingers that had been inside her this morning. The same fingers that had brought her to orgasm even when he said she couldn't come.

Without question, Abigail took a seat at the top of the highest cliffside she'd ever been to. Below her was the ocean and gigantic ships that sailed the Mediterranean Sea. With a josh push, she'd fall into the water. Let's hope she didn't do anything to upset her Master.

He sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist possessively. There was something about marrying her, collaring her, and leashing her that had made him overly possessive. For every man that turned his eyes on her, she'd earn a caning.

Of course a woman parading around on a leash drew no attention.

None what so ever.

Her ass was sore and so was her pussy, but she'd take that over all the exercise in the world. With all the sex they had been having she was sure she'd lost ten pounds. It was impossible for her heart not to pump faster when she was at the mercy of her Master's wrath. And a dominating look from his brown eyes made her skin sweat.

As the two sat in silence at the top of the hill, Abigail thought about what their lives would be like after the honeymoon was over. A thought she hated thinking, but an important one nonetheless.

She loved being married, to Preston that was. It was a statement she never imagined she'd ever say because she never thought she'd find her other half.

Waking up beside her husband every day was pure perfection. His eyes were always hooded and his hair was a mess she loved to tame. He was always ready to have her and she accepted him with parted thighs and a lubricated pussy.

"So, I've been thinking," she started.

"You want me to move in with you." He knew her too well.

"Hear me out, okay? Yes, my house is smaller than yours, but it's closer to both our jobs and I don't have to ride eighty something floors to get to my bed. The woman that lives next to me is leaving and we can buy her house and turn it into a larger ho—"

Preston removed a gag from the inside pocket of his shorts and wrapped it around the back of her head. Did he really walk around with a gag in his pocket? Abigail wondered what other toys he had hidden in there. A pocketknife, perhaps?

He kissed her forehead and brushed her bangs.

"Your mouth was made solely to please me, not to speak out of turn. And because of that, you've given me more than enough reasons as to why you are moving into my apartment. I'll be nice and share them with you. One, it's secured. Two, it has parking space. Three, it isn't as nosy as your house. Four, there's more than one bathroom and more than one bedroom. Lastly, it has our playroom."

Abigail knew what he meant by "secured." It meant he had cameras, which of course she didn't have in her house. Who the hell had cameras inside their own house? His reasons were logical and made more than a little sense, though.

She tried to speak but her words came out muffled. Saliva was pooling on the roof of her mouth and spilling from her lips down to her chin.

"Uh-uh. I believe the words you're looking for are 'Yes, Master Trice' or 'Yes, Husband' either would suffice. When you're ready to say them, I'll remove the gag."