Lauren and Rafe have been coasting along since they had kids, letting things in the bedroom match their vanilla suburban lifestyle. But they have a blistering-hot Dominant/submissive history, and this weekend, Rafe will remind Lauren of all the deviant delights awaiting her when they open up…the Toy Box.
Excerpt from Toy Box
Copyright © Delphine Dryden, 2012. All Rights Reserved.
The next thing Lauren felt was Rafe’s stomach against her back, shaking rhythmically. He was laughing almost hysterically, she realized about the time he pulled free.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he said when he caught a breath. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m wonderful,” she confessed, still clinging to the tile, laughing weakly along with him. She was so wonderful she didn’t think she could walk.
He helped her straighten up, folding her into a one-armed hug, using his other hand to sweep the wet strands back from her forehead and cheeks. Lauren tilted her face toward his, let him tidy her up and rinse them both off with the last of the warm water. She floated in a languorous, post-coital cloud while Rafe dried her off and led her to bed.
“Sorry the garage door was locked earlier,” he whispered a few minutes later, rousing Lauren from semi-consciousness. He was spooned behind her as usual, snuggling as if it was any another night and he hadn’t just rocked her world to its core. As if they weren’t unwisely naked despite the likelihood of childish visitors at some point in the night or early morning.
“Oh yeah.” She remembered she was supposed to be annoyed about the garage door thing, though right now she couldn’t even muster faint irritation with Rafe. “What was the deal there?”
“Matty told you. I was making a toy box. Putting the finishing touches on it, actually. I meant to be all done by the time you got back, but I’d locked the big garage door because he kept sneaking over to push the button and make it go up and down. Oh, he can reach that button now, by the way.”
“No good can come of that. Um, a toy box though? What for? They already have toy boxes. I hate to harsh your handyman mellow, but I don’t even know where we’d put another one.”
Rafe laughed, his chest beating a quiet tempo against her back. “At the foot of our bed. The toy box isn’t for them,” he explained. “It’s for us.”