Chapter Seventy-Seven

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    A warm fingertip tracing a line inside the inner thigh, followed by a cube of ice moving along the same path. Hot breath blown on the ice to speed up the melting process as it neared the apex of shapely thighs. The ice cube was removed, only to be replaced by another...but this time, Destiny could feel the difference in how the ice cube was held. Previously, Aubrey's fingers would occasionally brush against her skin, ever so lightly...but now, the ice cube was accompanied by consistent breathing, and every few minutes, there would be a brief touch of his lips to her skin.

    The juxtaposition of his the warmth of his lips and the coolness of the ice was enough to send her abdomen into convulsions as he slid the dripping ice cube upward. She had the urge to grab his head with her hands so she could direct him to where she wanted him, but her hands were still bound. With his help, the cube scaled the slope of her stomach and hovered between her breasts before moving to the tip of each breast.

    Narrow trails of water were left in his wake as he moved the cube further upward, to the slope of her shoulders. He held the ice at the crook of her neck, where it melted down considerably. Then he continued onto her jawline, tracing it until he held the ice cube in front of her lips.

    Her mouth opened, but he made no moves to transfer the cube from his mouth to hers, as she'd expected. Instead, he stood nearly completely still, with the ice cube barely touching her lips, dripping between them. With the blindfold covering her eyes, she couldn't see the look in his eyes...but she could imagine it. Her imagination ran wild, conjuring up the intense look that crept into his eyes sometimes when he lusted for her.

    "Tongue out," he commanded softly, speaking around the ice cube in his mouth.

    Obediently, she stuck her tongue out.

    The ice cube was dropped onto her tongue. Silence filled the room.

    Destiny held the ice on her tongue, but didn't suck the ice cube into her mouth. Why? Because he hadn't told her to. Slowly but surely, her thought processes were changing. Evolving. Evolving, evolving. He'd given her one instruction. She'd followed that instruction. Her duty, as a submissive, was to await his next instruction, instead of assuming that it was okay to act freely.

    "Good girl." A moment later, his tongue touched hers and his hand tangled in her hair while kissing her mouth.

    The ice was pushed into her mouth, worn down to a skinny sliver that was shifted to the spot beneath her tongue.

    "Who do you belong to?" he murmured against her lips.

    "You, Sir," she answered readily.

    "Who?"

    "I belong to Aubrey Drake Graham, Sir."

    He pulled back. "Whose property are you?"

    "Yours, Sir."

    "Whose?"

    "Aubrey Drake Graham's, Sir."

    "You belong to me? You're my property? My possession?"

    She nodded.

    "I didn't hear an answer."

    "Yes, Daddy. Of course."

    He curled his index finger around a lock of her hair. "When are you really going to give yourself to me?"

    "I don't understand."

    His hand moved from her hair, down her arm. He grabbed her hand and ran his thumb over the obnoxiously large engagement ring resting on her ring finger. "When are you really going to give yourself to me?" he repeated.

    He wants to know when we're going to get married? "We haven't - we haven't really talked about when we're going to..."

    "I didn't ask you if we've talked about when," he told her. "I asked you when you are really going to give yourself to me."

    Her brows furrowed. It was amazing, how his mind could shift from eating her out while teasing her with an ice cube to discussing wedding details. Remember, Des...don't say "uh" or "um," even though you're itching to, right now. "Well...I think a summer wedding would be beautiful."

    He released her hand and moved his own hand, caressing her stomach. "You think a summer wedding would be beautiful?" he echoed, lowering his hand.

    Her eyes fluttered behind the blindfold, and she struggled to remember instructions he'd given her regarding speech etiquette. Expecting her brain to work while his hand delved between her thighs, though, might have been asking a bit much. Rendered absolutely speechless, she struggled to think of something, anything, to say. She caught herself staring to say "um," but caught herself in time to transform the sound into "Mmmm..."

    While she was going through a true struggle attempting to string enough words together to form a sentence, he pressed himself against her. "What was that?"

    "Boy stop playing" was the phrase that jumped to her mind - but sadly, the submissive/Dominant dynamic didn't grant leeway for feisty remarks. Does he really expect me to come up with a wedding date, right on the spot, all by myself? Without his input or anything?

    "Let my friends tell it, and women dream about their wedding day since they were little girls," he said, his voice sounding extra silky while his fingers played with her.

    "Not all women," Destiny said somewhat defensively.

    He was quiet.

    "Not all women are like that, Sir," she said, correcting her earlier error. "I was never the type of girl who imagined what my wedding day would be like. My dreams were filled with career aspirations, things that I wanted to accomplish. I dreamed of winning writing awards and of starting my own newspaper. Weddings and Barbies ranked very low on the totem pole...Sir."

    "And now?" His voice was deep. Guarded. He had a tone of voice that told her any response she gave him would be graded.

    "Now...my aspirations are still important to you, but I can't wait until the day that I can give myself to you."

    "When you think of potential wedding dates, what comes to mind?"

    She pursed her lips as she contemplated. Then she replied, "October 24th."

    His fingers stilled inside of her and she could've sworn he sucked his breath in. "Why October 24th?"

    "Because it's your birthday, and October is your favorite month," she answered. "And...because I can't think of any better birthday gift to give you than all of me. And...because you consider yourself October's Very Own, and this way I'd also feel like I was October's very own - not to mention Aubrey's Very Own."

    He was quiet for so long that she thought she'd made a mistake by mentioning his name. But then his hands were covering her blindfold and lowering it down her face, so he could look her in the eyes. "October 24th it is," he said softly, his eyes shining with emotion as he leaned close to kiss her again.

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