The master bedroom was bathed in the warm, heavy glow of the dim bedside lamps. The rest of the house was quiet, but inside the suite, the air felt thick, charged with an overwhelming, intoxicating weight of absolute surrender.
Sophia knelt on the center of the massive king-sized bed, her dark hair falling in soft waves over her bare shoulders. She wore nothing except a simple pair of sheer, lace-trimmed silk panties. Her knees were apart, her hands resting flat on her thighs, her breathing shallow and deliberate as she looked up at her husband.
Mark stood at the foot of the bed, towering over her in his dark trousers and an unbuttoned white linen shirt. His dark eyes held a quiet, unyielding authority that sent warm, trembling waves straight to Sophia’s core.
"Hands behind your back,"
