The Razor's Edge BH Joyeaux     All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2006       An Authorized Excerpt   Keeping the weight of my body from resting on him, I stretch to place my hands just above his shoulders and lean forward to reach the side of his neck. His very stillness is what incites me to go further, press closer to that invisible boundary. My whole body is quivering inside and honey coats my thighs as I hesitate above the pulse in his neck. A whimper escapes me, betraying the depth of my hunger for his body and I cede my control. As soon as my teeth touch his skin, he moves. Clamping an iron grip around each wrist and rolling toward the center of the bed, he uses the momentum to haul me over his body, unceremoniously dumping me hard enough to take my startled breath away. In one fluid motion, he rises to straddle my stomach and pins my wrists far above me "No-no-no, it's not fair!" I struggle hard as he ties my wrists to the headboard. "You can't punish your girl when you taunt her like this! Please, Master!" His sardonic look should quell my begging but, instead, it goads me to prod his patience even harder, further. "You are NOT going to punish me, Lover! You will release me this instant or no sex for a week! I mean it, I swear I'll wear the chastity belt and hide the key!" Anyone watching would be amused at the image of me demanding anything in my position, hands tied snugly to the center support, one leg already bent at the knee and being bound to the outer support of the headboard, the other about to follow suit on the opposite side. I am, quite literally, exposed for him to take whatever pleasure he might wish from my servile body. He sits back on his heels, the conqueror surveying his victory. My struggles die down when I realize the effort is futile. Once he finishes binding me, there is never any escape; we've grown far beyond the necessity for that. His smile is usually something that warms me. This one isn't. This smile has a sneer mixed in with it, a snide mockery of the look that melts my heart. I hear a tiny voice inside my head say 'Oh shit.' Just a whisper of fear in the back of my mind, but it's enough to tighten my stomach, cool the heat in my loins, and make me start wondering if maybe this time I've gone too far. Odd how just a fleeting look can dredge up an entire set of fears that were firmly buried in the past, isn't it? All the patience, kindness, and love my Master has shown me over the years can turn into a simple measure of gold dust playing counterweight to a lump of coal with nothing more than a single unexpected look. I mentally search through the conversations we've had about my 'brat' behavior for a clue. I know he appreciates my desire to misbehave within the limits he's set for me, it gives him a focal point to release the stress of his work day, but, have I crossed the line? What did I do? I was only playing. Did I cross the line without realizing it? Have I become a badly behaved slave? Uncertainty slides up my spine and coils insidiously in my belly as I seek for a sign of reassurance from him and find none.