Last night Mac was lying on His back in bed, His hands under His head, looking over at me as I climbed into the bed and snuggled up beside Him. My hand went automatically to His cock and caressed it, touching it gently and lovingly. Mac sighed contentedly and I snuggled up even closer, throwing one leg over His thigh. He took His hand from behind His head and stroked my face. I smiled up at Him.

"Sarah, sweetheart," He murmured, "can you imagine going back to how it was a week ago?"
"No, Master." I whispered back to Him.

A week ago our bed was so cold it is a wonder we both didn't suffer frost bite. Now it is so full of love and lust and contentment that I would stay in it all the time if I could.

Mac turned onto His side, turning me onto my back and He slid over the top of me with ease. We kissed. I held His face in my hands and kissed Him again. He pulled away and smiled at me, then brought His mouth down onto mine and teased my tongue with His. My legs snaked around His waist and He needed no further encouragement to enter me.

I was still wet from where Mac had come inside me hours earlier. We had been in the dining room when He had bent me over the table and used me so roughly that I had to relax and submit. It was impossible to time movements to His.

And although I could no longer taste it, I could clearly recall the way His face had contorted in pleasure when He had spilled into my mouth before leaving for work. I tightened my legs around Him and concentrated everything I had on making Him come for the third time that day.

He collapsed against me, exhausted and spent and I smiled and murmured happily. Mac raised His head high enough so He could see my grin.

"Smug bitch." He said and flopped back down onto me again. I giggled in delight.

I wish it could always be like this.

But I think Mac would die of exhaustion if it was.