Victorious, a Tame Quantum Novel

by Marie Force

  Putting his arms around me, he holds me for a long quiet moment. “Go into the bedroom and take off your clothes. Slide to the end of the bed with your legs as far apart as you can get them. I’ll be right there.”

  “Are you serious? We’ve had sex—wild, monkey sex—three times today already. You’re going to break me.”

  “Who said anything about having sex?”

  Crossing my arms, I eye him skeptically. “What’re you up to?”

  He takes a drink of his beer. “I have no idea. Now isn’t there something you’re supposed to be doing?”

  I shake my head in frustration and amusement. Clearly he enjoys keeping me off balance in this new arrangement of ours. Still wondering what he’s up to, I go into the bedroom, where a rack of clothes is waiting for me—gorgeous dresses in various lengths and colors. And shoes… pair after pair of delicate, beaded, open-toed shoes, posed on top of their boxes.

  “Flynn!”

  He comes to the door, Fluff along with him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong, but what’s all this?”

  “Tenley dropped that off for you. We’ve got the Oscar nominee luncheon Monday and the Nominees Night celebration at Spago Monday night. She’ll be here that morning to help you get ready.”

  “Is there some sort of list I could get of all these events?”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, of course. I’ll ask Addie to get you something and make sure you’re included on all the emails going forward.” He pulls out his phone. “What’s your address?”

  “It was my school address. I need to get a new one.”

  “We’ll set you up with a Quantum address. Addie will take care of that for us.” He punches in a text and then grimaces. “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “Emmett texted me. The meeting with the FBI agent is on for Monday morning.”

  “Okay…”

  “It’s not okay. We had nothing to do with it, and they’re wasting our time.”

  “Then we have nothing to worry about. Let’s just talk to him and get it over with.”

  “It’ll have to be early. I want you to have enough time to get ready for the luncheon.”

  “I can do early.”

  He sends off another text, presumably to Emmett, and puts the phone in his pocket. “I believe you were supposed to be doing something in here. I’ll leave you to it.”

  “But… You still want to do that? Now?”

  “Why not now?”

  “You’re not angry? About the FBI?”

  “No, I’m not. We didn’t do anything, so we have nothing to be angry about, other than the inconvenience of it all. If you’re asking if I’d ever take anger or frustration or anything like that out on you, the answer is a definitive no. If I were truly angry about anything, having to do with you or not, I’d never lay a hand on you. You have my word on that.”

  “Thank you for saying it, but I already knew that.”

  With a quick nod, he turns and heads for the door. “I’ll be back. Be ready.”

  As an independent woman, it should raise my hackles to be told what to do in that brusque tone. But it doesn’t raise my hackles. It turns me on because I know when he talks to me like that, pleasure will follow.

  I go into the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth. Even though my body is sore and tired, I experience the now-familiar signs of arousal. I remove my clothes, and since I expect him to make me wait anyway, I decide to take a quick shower. After covering my body in the citrus-scented lotion that Flynn loves, I go to the bed and get into the position he’s requested.

  My bottom is at the edge, my legs are propped apart, and I’m staring at the ceiling, waiting. Even after everything we’ve already done today, I’m primed for more by the time he enters the room.

  He has also showered. His hair is damp, he’s naked and fully aroused. “I love the way you do whatever I ask, that you’re game for anything.”

  “I love that you’re sharing this side of yourself with me.”

  “You’ve been a very good sport.” He drops to his knees and flattens his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them farther apart.

  I wince at the tug of overused muscles protesting the movement.

  “Are you sore, sweetheart?”

  “A little.”

  “We were kind of crazy today.”

  “We’re newlyweds. We’re supposed to be crazy.”

  “There’s crazy—and then there’s today. I don’t want to push you too hard or too fast.”

  “I know how to put a stop to it if I need to.”

  “I like to hear you say that, to know you get it.”

  I feel the scrape of his stubble against my inner thigh.

  My body immediately arches toward him. The impulse is automatic. I want to be close to him. I need to be close to him. He opens me to his tongue and strokes my tender skin gently, soothing as much as arousing. I’m floating on a wave of sensation, and the next stroke of his tongue takes me right to the edge of madness.

  “Not yet,” he whispers.

  I’m going to lose my mind if he keeps this up much longer. This is the slowest, easiest thing we’ve done all day and yet it’s more. It’s engaging every sense, every erogenous zone. My skin feels hot and too tight to contain all the things he’s making me feel.

  “You have permission to come, Natalie.”

  I explode, screaming and writhing, my hands fisting his hair to keep him from getting away.

  Then he’s screaming, too, and pulling away from me so abruptly that I come crashing back to earth to realize Fluff is attacking him.

  “Fluff, no! Stop!” I jump from the bed on rubber legs that threaten to buckle under me to pull her off him. “Bad girl!”

  “Oh my God, she bit me right on the ass!”

  He spins around and tries to see behind him, his hard penis flopping as he jerks his body into contortions.

  I can’t help it. I begin to laugh. I laugh so hard that tears stream down my face and Fluff tries to lick them up, the way she’s done so many times before. Those were heartbroken tears. These are joyful tears because my husband is so cute and funny as he tries to get a look at his wounded backside where there isn’t so much as a mark.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, gasping from laughing, “your career as a butt model hasn’t been ruined.”

  “How can you laugh at a moment like this? She attacked me when I was going down on you! I had my fingers in your—”

  I cuddle Fluff to my chest and put my hands over her ears. “Not in front of Fluff! You left the door open.”

  He advances toward us, a comically sinister expression on his face. “Are you saying it’s my fault because I left the door open?”

  “And you made me scream. You’ve known since day one that she’s protective of me.”

  “She’s certifiable!”

  “She’s my baby.”

  Fluff coos as I stroke her. “Naughty girl biting Daddy’s booty. Those buns are insured for millions. You can’t damage the merchandise.”

  “Do you know how close she came to my balls where our future children live?”

  I bite my lip because I know he won’t appreciate my laughter right now. “She’s very sorry she bit you. Again.”

  “That’s three times. You know what they say about three strikes and you’re out?”

  “If she’s out, I’m out.”

  Through gritted teeth, he says, “Would you please remove her from our bedroom?”

  “Don’t worry, precious. Daddy’s not really mad. You threatened his manhood, and boys are really funny about those kinds of threats. He understands that you were only protecting me.” I kiss her face and send her to go lie down in the living room, closing the bedroom door. Turning to him, I find that he’s nowhere near as amused by this as I am. “You have to admit it’s kinda funny.”

  “It’s not even sorta funny.”

  I pinch my fingers together as he advances on me. “Maybe just a teeny tiny bit funny?” I take
a step back and encounter the wall.

  “Nope. In fact, since you find it so funny, I assume you won’t mind accepting Fluff’s punishment for her. After all, I can’t exactly spank a poor, defenseless old dog.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” He goes to sit on the bed and pats his lap.

  I approach, planning to sit on his lap, but apparently that’s not what he has in mind. He turns me, and I end up facedown over his lap, his intentions now crystal clear as he rubs a hand over my cheeks. “Flynn, wait…”

  “You know what to say to put a stop to it. Now,” he says, continuing to caress my suddenly sensitive skin, “how many spanks do we think your little wildebeest earned by biting me?”

  “One.”

  “Ha-ha, try again. She could’ve unmanned me.”

  “She never came close to unmanning you.”

  “Depends on your perspective. If you give me a reasonable number, I’ll let you decide. Otherwise, I’ll decide, and I have a feeling my number won’t seem reasonable to you. After all, it was my butt that got bit.”

  “Five?” I ask in little more than a squeak. The blood is beginning to rush to my head, among other places.

  “Hmm, that’s a little more reasonable than one, but not quite in the range that I was thinking. Want to try again?”

  “Seven?”

  “Getting closer, but I’d say nothing less than ten would do in light of Fluff’s crime.”

  “Ten? Seriously?”

  “You know how to say no…”

  The word is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “Fine.”

  “What was that you said?”

  “I said it’s fine.”

  “Ten it is, then. Are you ready?”

  “Hurry up already. I’m getting a headache from hanging upside down.”

  “We can’t have that.” He helps me up and onto the bed, where he sits back against a pile of pillows and arranges me over his lap with my head cushioned by another pillow. His hard cock is pressed against my belly, which lets me know he’s not unaffected by this, despite his businesslike demeanor. “Better?”

  “I guess.”

  “Do we need to add to the number to address your attitude?”

  “You have to admit this isn’t fair!”

  “It also isn’t fair that your dog bit my ass.”

  “I didn’t bite your ass.”

  “If you had bitten my ass, I wouldn’t be punishing you. Trust me on that.”

  I’m intrigued by this insight. “Good to know.”

  “I’d also remind you that you laughed after my butt was bitten.”

  “It was funny! And you laughed the first time she bit you. How was I to know this was different?”

  His hand comes down on my ass, the sharp cracking sound echoing through the big room. “Count them.”

  “One,” I say, my teeth tight with the indignation, which is only exacerbated by the spread of heat from my bottom to my clit. How is this turning me on? My nipples tingle as well, which nearly makes me growl in aggravation. I feel like my body is betraying me.

  His hand lands on the other side, near where my cheek meets my leg.

  “Two.”

  By eight, I’m sobbing from the need for release. By nine, I’m on the verge of begging, and when the tenth spank lands in the same spot as the first, I can’t hold back any longer. My entire body seizes from the explosive release that overtakes me.

  Flynn’s fingers delve between my cheeks to slide through the flood of moisture. “I don’t recall giving you permission to come.”

  I don’t even have the wherewithal to apologize, to beg for mercy, to do anything other than breathe and feel. Then he’s turning me over. His hands slide up my legs, parting them as he settles on top of me, wiping away my tears with his fingers.

  “I need to be inside you, Nat.” His face is flushed, his eyes alive with desire.

  I reach for him, wanting him as badly as he seems to want me. I’m sore and swollen, so he goes slowly, giving me time to adjust. This time isn’t about playing. This is all about love. He never looks away from me as he makes slow, easy love to me. When he reaches beneath me to cup my sore cheeks, I wince from the bite of pain that morphs into pleasure.

  “Natalie, God… I love you so much. I feel so lucky to have found you. Tell me you love me, too.”

  I put my arms around him, holding him as close to me as I can get him. “I do, you know I do.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I love you, Flynn, more than anything.”

  His low growl precedes his orgasm. He pushes into me, throws his head back and lets himself go. Seeing him lost in me, in the passion we create together, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  He lands on me, gathers me up and holds me as we come down from the incredible high. “I came in here telling myself I’d give you one good orgasm, and then it was off to bed.”

  “Didn’t go quite as planned, huh?”

  “You can blame your buddy Fluff for that.”

  “I’m sorry she bit you.”

  “No, you’re not!”

  I descend into giggles all over again. “Yes, I am! I’m genuinely sorry. I can’t believe how naughty she’s gotten as she gets older. She never used to be like this.”

  “Since I owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude for leading you to me, I’ll let her continue to live here.”

  “Well, that’s a relief, since you just talked me into moving here. I’d hate to have to relocate again.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “If Fluff goes, I go.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You might want to remember to shut the door, too.”

  “I’ll definitely remember that.” He raises his head to look down at me, his sexy lips curved into a smile. “Had yourself a good little laugh at my expense, didn’t you?”

  “I can’t wait to tell Marlowe and your sisters about this.”

  “You’d better not…”

  “What’s it worth to you?”

  “A lot.”

  “No punishment for coming without permission?”

  “Hmmm, I suppose that’s a fair tradeoff, considering you could ruin my life by telling them your dog bit my ass while I was—”

  I kiss the words off his lips. “Do we have a deal?”

  “We have a deal,” he says begrudgingly.

  Chapter 11

  Long after Natalie falls asleep in my arms, I’m awake thanks to the nap on the plane that took the edge off for me. I stare into the darkness, reliving the incredibly decadent day we spent together. I’ve gone from fearing I’d lost her to bringing her fully into my life with astonishing results. Not only is she the perfect submissive, but she seems to love our new arrangement as much as I do.

  For the first time in what feels like forever, I can relax and take comfort in knowing I’m exactly where I should be with the woman who was born to love me—and vice versa. Not to mention she’s fun and funny and loving and sweet and smart and compassionate and strong and everything I ever wanted in one delicious, sexy, adorable package.

  If only this shit with the FBI wasn’t hanging over our heads, everything would truly be perfect. I can’t figure out what more they could possibly want with us. We had nothing to do with the murder of the lawyer who sold Natalie’s story to one of the Hollywood news shows. Did I want to kill him for the anguish he brought down on her? You bet I did. But that was as far as it went. Desire to see someone dead doesn’t equate to murder.

  When it becomes apparent that sleep is going to remain elusive tonight, I settle Natalie on a pillow, kiss her forehead and leave her to sleep with the wildebeest snuggled up to her. I still can’t believe the little bitch bit my ass. I’ll admit to myself—and only myself—that it was sort of funny. And the “punishment” that followed led to some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had. I should be thanking the little beast for that, except th
at my butt still hurts where she latched on, so I won’t be thanking her quite yet.

  I pull on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and go into the kitchen to make some coffee, planning to take advantage of the sleepless night to catch up on work. Hayden is after me to make a decision on the next project we’re going to take on after we complete the film he’s currently editing, which still doesn’t have a name.

  I go over his list of potential names, add a few of my own and send that off to him. Then I lose myself in the screenplay Hayden has insisted I read first about a recovering drug addict who sets out to fix the damage he’s left behind. The story is engrossing and compelling, and definitely has my interest.

  As I read, I realize I’m spinning my wedding ring around on my finger. It’s amazing how quickly I became accustomed to having it there and how right it feels, when only a few months ago, the thought of being married was appalling to me. That was before Natalie crashed into me and changed me forever.

  Thinking about her makes me want to be near her, so I put down the script, shut off the light and return to the bedroom. I slide into bed next to her, snuggling up to her back. She doesn’t wake but turns to me, cuddling into my embrace. God, she’s sweet, and even when she’s sleeping, I can feel how much she loves and trusts me.

  I have so many things I want to do and explore with her. I can’t wait for all of it. Soon, I’ll take her to the club, where she’ll get her first exposure to the public aspect of my chosen lifestyle. I hope someday we’ll get to the point where scenes at the club are a routine part of our life together. But if we never get there, I’ll be perfectly satisfied—and content—with what we already have.

  We spend a lazy and relaxing weekend at home. Natalie’s foundation notepad is never far from her side, and she adds to it regularly as we brainstorm ideas for programs. She wants to bring in the national teachers’ union as a partner in helping us to reach the children most in need, which I think is a fantastic idea. Who would know better than the teachers who work on the front lines with the kids each day?

  I love her passion for my passion project, and I’m thrilled to have her involved.

  All weekend, I try to forget about the looming appointment with the FBI agent. That he wants to talk to Natalie, too, fills me with anxiety that has me tossing and turning on Sunday night.