I feel like my body has been completely drained out of its energy. It's like I have just worked out so much that I need the biggest rest of my life before I develop sore muscles for the next few days. Days! Oh no! He will be gone in a few days!

I feel stiff like I can barely move my body, but then again, I am still bound by ropes that bring me a surprising pleasure to my newly found sex interests. Why haven't I tried it before? Although, I still don't understand how this is supposed to feel empowering for the submissive.

Noah eases himself out of me. I wince. I feel sore and swollen. Not a good combination for someone who wants to fuck as much as possible the next few days. I feel his hands get to work on undoing the knots he created. All the roughness he procured has now evaporated from his body. He's gentle, almost too gentle. Treating me like I am a baby that might break its bones if you move my limbs the wrong way.

First, he undoes the knots on my wrists, then massages them gently with his fingers in circular motions, then he moves on to my upper arms, removing the rope gently so I could only just about feel it brush against my skin as it turned and twisted its way off my body.

He tenderly grabs a hold of my arms and places them on either side of my head before he continues to undo the rope between my legs spreading them a number of inches apart. His lips press against the lightly tingling sensations on my ass cheek before he hooks himself around my body to lower it down to prone.

I feel like a child, maybe even a robot to the less extreme circumstances as he simply controls the way I am to position my body. But perhaps, a very deep part of me is glad that I don't have to think about how to place my limbs in a way that would feel comfortable.

"Stay like that, I'll be right back," he finally says, and I peek up to see his naked ass walking away towards the bathroom. I smirk to myself, he really does have a nice ass for a man, hmm.

I manage to pull my tired body up, half kneeling as I sit my ass down on my legs. I twist my wrists around. I'm surprised there is only a minor indent marking my skin. I half expected there to be bruises.

"I thought I told you to stay the way you are," I hear Noah's voice causing my eyes to dart up to look at him. Naked, his hair ruffled up making him appear even more delicious. Jesus why am I getting tingly and wet down there already.

"I-,"

"How are your wrists, I didn't do it too tight did I?" he asks worriedly grabbing my hands and examining them.

"No, they're okay," I reassure him.

"Its 'no, they're okay sir'," he warns me standing up and straightening his shoulders. Immediately, his entire demeanour goes from a worried daddy back to the intimidating 'I own a finance company' man. Will I ever be able to keep up?

Can someone tell me why I keep fucking up with this man? Maybe I'm not as submissive as I thought I could be with him. Perhaps, he got me all wrong. I'm most likely just a bottom in bed and the complete opposite outside it.

"I'm sorry... sir," I utter embarrassed, shying my face away from him.

"Come, you need to take a bath," he takes out his hand for me to take but I am startled.

"A bath?" I ask surprised. That's the last thing I expected right now.

"I'm not a monster Mia, my role as the dominant is to take care of your needs, not just sexual ones, but the ones right after and in the middle, and please for the last time, call me sir, I would not like giving you your first strike so soon."

The strikes! That's the one thing we didn't discuss that I feel a big urge to talk about all of a sudden.

"Now, bath time my lady."

I take his hand and I wobble to my feet, I almost tumble myself back down to the ground. Shaky legs I expected after a fucking like that, but this feels like a whole new level. Like my body is quaking like a volcano that doesn't stop shooting out lava for days at a time.

"Steady there, tiger," he chuckles and picks me up, hooking his arms under my legs and around my back.

"This isn't necessary," I say.

"Sir," I add timidly. It feels so unnatural to call him that, and to call him that all the damn time too!

Ah, will I ever be capable of being what he wants me to be?

"Oh, it's necessary, I don't want you to trip and hurt yourself just because I fucked you too hard."

"Does that mean I don't have to do my daily work out today?" I tease.

"Sir!" I add panickily as I keep forgetting to call him by his requested name every time I open my mouth.

"I thought we decided yes to diet and no to exercise," he asks puzzled setting me down on the edge of the bathtub. I ignore it and allow my fingertips to check the temperature of the milky bath he has prepared. It is perfect.

"Hop yourself right in, I'll join in a minute."

I shoot my face up to look at him, still gloriously naked.

"You're joining me, sir?" I ask.

He doesn't answer, just flashes me a small beam with a hint of chuckle behind it and leaves.

Without hesitation I swing my shaky legs over the edge of the bathtub and settle my weak body inside. The water feels nice. Too nice. I might just want to spend a few hours in here just letting my body recover. Who knows what this man has planned for me after I get out.

I close my eyes and let myself escape this sense of reality. In a perfect world I am in California with nothing holding me back. No urge to stay in London. And letting myself feel the confidence I wish I could have when around Noah.

I feel a perfect set of lips press against mines startling me out of my thoughts. I shoot my eyes open and notice Noah floating over me. God, he's fucking perfection. The dark eyes gleaming into me like the moon lighting up the sky each night and demanding you look at its shimmering excellence.

"Any room for me in here?" he asks with a mocking undertone to his deep menacing voice.

I grab the side of the bathtub, sit up and move myself over to the front. The water swirls around, I am a cat drowning in its own pot of milk.

Once Noah nestles himself behind me, his right-hand wraps around my front and pulls me back up against him. My head rests on the top of his chest as his hands roam my body in curiosity.

"What are you doing?" I probe. "Sir."

A tender trace tickles the sides of my ribs, the sensation is new to me. no one has ever touched me in this way. A touch so felt so full of affection and adoration for my body, but that's all that it was.

"Connecting the dots."

His fingers trace up to my breast, bypassing my nipples and stopping at a little beauty mark I have above. Is this what he's doing? Connecting all the freckles on my body?

"You are a sight to behold Mia, with a body like yours I could explore for days at a time, pleasing you the way an obedient submissive deserves."

His words makes my stomach growl in hunger. Despite all the doubts I may have, he can possess me all he wants. If being obedient means he will do things like this with me then I really aren't losing out on anything.

BDSM relationships aren't supposed to be romantic but taking a bath like this is one of the most romantic things I've done in a while. I've read enough romance books to know this.

But what's so romantic about getting tied up?

Nothing.

My thoughts abruptly come to a halt as I feel his fingers trace my skin all the way down to my navel. Then a little lower. Just about brushing my public hair before going back up. He's teasing me!

"What made you want to practise BDSM?" I ask trying to distract myself from his endless attack on my body.

He goes silent, stilling his fingers in place as he ponders over his reaction. I wonder what his reasons might be?

"When I was eighteen," he begins and resumes wondering his fingers around my body. "I had a friend who was part of a sex club, he took me there one night. You'd be surprised how much people want to be observed in those places," he sniggers to himself.

"I wondered the three levels until I came across a woman, dressed in a latex body with matching thigh high boots, she was flogging another women attached to an x-cross, and the woman whose ass was glowing red was thanking the other woman for doing that to her. I wondered what the fuck I was doing there, I moved out of home, I was broke and dedicating my whole time to building my business in my friends garage. I watched the woman control her pet from a leash. It was incredibly stimulating."

Stimulating to watch someone get pulled around like a dog? How is that any sort of satisfying?

"What happened next, sir?"

Noah's fingers glance however until the push past my folds and finds my entrance. One of his fingers teases the opening, never going inside, but it forces me to open my legs wider to accommodate his hand and try to lift my hips up for him. Being turned away from him, it's a good thing he can't see the shamefulness I feel as my body craves his touch.

"I asked her to teach me, but it wasn't easy, I had to prove to myself I was...worthy for the use of a better word."

I can't imagine someone not believing that an individual like him isn't worthy enough of anything he desires. He probably gets everything and anything now with a snap of his fingers. Even me. But in the past... it's hard to imagine him sitting behind a computer day and night behind garage doors and secretly going to sex clubs.

My body flinches as his finger finds its way to my clit, barley even touching the sensitive spot and I already let out a moan that screams hypersensitivity.

"There's a sex club in California that I go to that I think you'd really like."

"You still go to them?" I asked breathlessly in surprise.

"Of course, that's how I found all of my previous submissive's."

I shouldn't be surprised, but I am. It should be obvious that a man like him will only want to continue going to those types of clubs. It's clearly a part of who he is but is it something I want. Everyone would want to check them out at least once, including myself, but is that the type of scenario I could see myself fit in?

My body say yes, but my mind says no.

Why the fuck is everything so out of sync with me!

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds. His words only make me realise how tense my body has gotten, and not because I am delighted in the spot massage between my legs, but because my mind is co out of sync with my body. Why can't I just pick one and stick to it, it would make things so much easier.

"I know what your thinking," he says retreating his hand from between my legs.

"Your body is clearly craving my touch, why won't you acknowledge how empty it feels without me touching it."

Excuse me? How fucking smug of him. I grit my teeth together. I hate how right he is about it. My body does implore on his touch and I have no idea how to control it.

"You should let yourself fully succumb to me, let your mind follow what your body so clearly is screaming for," he whispers in my ear as his fingers once again find their way to my sensitive spot. I let out a moan. How could he be doing this to me? He just fucked me ruthless and is already making me beg for more. This cannot be possibly happening. It's not right, but I lose control over my breath as his fingers continue their motions of tiny little circles. It's like he wants me to lose it and beg him to fuck me again. Not a chance, control yourself Mia!

He begins pressing gentle little kisses from the base of my shoulder, up my neck to the sweet spot behind my ear. Gosh, why is my body deceiving me so much. I can't allow myself to fall for his tricks. Not when he seems to know my body better than I do and its only been two days!

"S-sir," I let out feeling the flush of excitement wash over my face and chest.

He peels away from my neck. "Yes?"

"I'm feeling quite tired," I try excusing myself without being overly obvious.

"If you don't want something, you have to use your safe word, Mia." He sounds outraged. "It is too difficult for me to tell if you don't want something when your body language is telling me otherwise."

I don't have to turn around to look at his face to know that his menacing voice is livid. The deep vibrations fry me deep down to my core. Perhaps he is right. He mentioned that consent is everything but that's the tricky part of this entire situation. A part of me consent, but my brain is in too much of a fog to know what the fuck I actually want.

"I'm sorry, sir," I utter ashamed, pulling my arms up to cover myself.

"Don't be silly, there no need to cover up, I just need you to tell me when you don't want something, that's what the safewords are for."

I nod, still too embarrassed to utter anything else to him never mind move my body in any direction. Much to my surprise, he takes out a sponge, puts some soap on it and begins washing my body. I struggle to relax, even when he tries to unwind me with gentle kisses on random parts of my body. It's a never-ending battle.

At one point, he eases me forwards and gets me to tilt my head backwards so he can wash my hair for me. just another one of these little acts that no one has ever done for me, but it felt nice, it's the one thing to push my body into a state of relaxation. I closed my eyes and felt him massage my scalp before rinsing it.

When we are done with our bath, he wraps me up into a towel and dries me. I watch as he walks over to the sink counter and picks up a bottle with a little dropper on it.

"It's to soothe the redness on your ass," he says with a smirk when he notices my questionable expression.

I let him stalk back to me, kneel and massage the oil into my cheeks. I have been so painfully distracted by everything we have discussed during the bath I completely forgot the lingering stinging sensation he has imprinted me with. It's like a stamp of ownership of my body, but not quite my mind.

"Now, bedtime," he instructs profoundly.

I look at him confused.

"But I'm naked," I say trying to stifle a laugh.

He pulls the covers open and throws some of the decorative pillows onto the floor.

"You want closeness and cuddles, well, I'd like to do that with skin to skin touching."

I frown a little in an attempt to disguise my happiness that he is so willing to set aside his limits of sleeping in separate beds.

I crawl into bed and he lays himself beside me, pulling me into him so that I am almost laying on top of his body. I yawn and realise just how tired I actually am, come to think of it, the nightstand clock does say its half 11 already.

"Sleep." It wasn't a sweet goodnight lullaby, it was an order, one that was all too obedient to comply with.