She studies the planes of her body in the full-length mirror, drawing her fingertips across the velvety softness of her own skin.
She is radiant.
Lizzie trains her eyes on the peaks and valleys of her body, watching the rise and fall of her breasts with her breathing, slow and steady under the spell of the music flowing from the speaker on the dresser.
She smiles at her reflection; trying to see herself as Red sees her.
Crystal nipple clamps glitter and wink in the soft glow of the candlelight with each breath. She sighs, fingertips lightly brushing over full breasts and flat stomach, dipping into the crevice of her belly button teasingly. She sweeps her hands down creamy thighs, lips parting on a quiet exhalation.
She turns her body away from the mirror, craning her head around to admire the plump swell of her booty. She smiles indulgently, running one hand over the curve of her rear, tracing the fading pink imprint of Red's hand. God, she loves it when he leaves his mark on her! She splays her other hand across the line of her chin, tucking the edge of one finger between her teeth, beaming at the memory of last night.
She sighs happily, turning once more to face the mirror.
She cocks her head critically, eyes flitting over her reflection. Hands raise up to tweak one of the clamps, arranging it so the chains fall evenly, a single, fiery ruby swinging directly between her breasts. The set was an early Christmas gift from Red; something for her to play with while he was away on business this week. He had only been gone a day and already his absence had her reaching for it in their toy drawer. She missed him, missed his scent and the feel of his hands on her; he had promised to be home by New Year's.
Her hands dip behind the jewel to the tiny o-ring that dangles behind it. She drags the longer chain suspended from the ring through her hands until she reaches the last clamp, swinging loose. Bending forward slightly, she finds her clit with her fingers and attaches the final clamp, wincing at the twin tendrils of pain and pleasure unfurling themselves inside her. She straightens, feeling the satisfying twinges at her nipples and between her legs. Giving her reflection one final glance, Lizzie pads, naked and silent, to the kitchen.
Raising herself on her toes to reach the wine glasses on the top shelf of the cabinet produces a sweet, sharp pang on her most sensitive bits. Lizzie retrieves a single wine glass and crosses to the wine rack on the other side of the kitchen, each step producing tingling prickles. She surveys their collection and pulls a random chardonnay from the wall; discerning varying wine properties is not her avocation. She finds the corkscrew in a drawer and slides it closed with her hip, pausing to savor the acute sensations that tug on her with the quick hip thrust. She has to stop for a moment, toes curling against the imported travertine, her face screwing up into a tight expression.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she pops the cork from the bottle and pours a generous serving. She leaves the bottle and corkscrew on the kitchen island and sashays back to the bedroom, through the quiet, dark apartment, glass in hand.
The candles are flickering under the soft breeze produced by the air conditioner, throwing shadows along the full wall of windows across from their bed, overlooking Manhattan in the darkness. Lizzie takes a sip of her wine, peering into the night, wondering what time it is in Monaco and when Red will call.
