His Bride (Frisky Beavers Quickies Book 3)

by Ainsley Booth

  I pump my hips, easing our bodies together as I lever off the bed with my feet, my thighs and ass clenched tight. This is half-sex, half-gymnastics, and full-on-crazy—I can’t leave her bent in half for long. But I won’t need to. Each rub of my cock against the plug in her ass makes her shudder and coils my own arousal tight in my balls.

  I could come already.

  I just might.

  “My wife,” I whisper as I fuck her harder. “My bride.”

  “Yours,” she promises right back. “Always.”

  “My Sprite.”

  She gasps and throws her head back. “Sir!”

  “Come on, Ellie,” I growl, dragging my cock out of her before plunging deep again. “I’m going to come, too. Deep inside you. Just like this. Come on.”

  She cries out, her body convulsing as I thrust ruthlessly one more time and hold myself against her clit, my cock stretching her pussy wide as I lay my claim on her.

  My. Wife.

  I kiss her brow and her temple, and when my thighs threaten to seize up, I roll to the side, releasing her cuffs as I go.

  She twists, and I curl against her back, reaching around her to get the other side, too.

  With a groan, she unfolds her limbs, and I rub her down.

  “Do you want anything? A snack? Some juice?” She didn’t get anywhere near subspace, but I always like to ask.

  “Just you,” she says with a happy, blissed-out smile.

  I hold out my arm, and she settles in against me, and I kiss the top of her head.

  “That was quite a first round,” she murmurs. “I’m both excited and terrified to think about what you’ve got planned for tomorrow.”

  “After breakfast, I want to take you kayaking around the island.”

  She laughs. “That is so not what I thought you were going to say. Although I hate to break this to you, but I don’t know to kayak.”

  “Not to worry, love. We’ll take the double out, and all you need to do is sit in the front and enjoy the ride.”

  “Naked?”

  Chuckling, I squeeze her tight. “Oh, hell no. Naked is for inside. I packed a cover up for you to wear for sitting outside. But you’ll be appropriately clothed for activities that take us away from the cabin.”

  “So, I won’t be spending our entire honeymoon naked, tied to the bed and at your mercy?”

  “Oh, you’ll be at my mercy, Sprite.”

  She shivers in that delicious way that tells me she’s one hundred percent on board with that and I’m instantly hard.

  “Ready for the second round?” I ask as I press my erection against her hip.

  “Always.”

  Rolling on top of her, I grasp her hands and thread my fingers with hers. She slides her legs apart and I hold her gaze as I sink into her slick heat.

  This time it’s just Ellie and me. No accoutrements. No acrobatics. Just us loving each other.

  No matter how many times I bury myself inside my Ellie, it’s never enough. I always want her and now she’s mine forever.

  4

  Ellie

  Warm sunlight wakes me up, and as I roll over, tugging the crisp cotton sheet with me, I realize there’s a skylight above the bed.

  A tree top view on Tree Top Island. I’m already in love with this place.

  The bed is empty, but the clanging of pots downstairs answers my question. I reach for Gavin’s shirt, then remember I’m suppose to be naked. I follow the noise downstairs to the kitchen.

  “Morning.”

  Gavin stops chopping and wipes his hands on a towel as he turns towards me. “Morning, Sprite. Did I wake you?”

  Closing the distance between us, I rise up onto my toes to get my morning kiss. “No, I think the sun shining in through the roof is to blame.”

  He wraps his arms tight around me and squeezes my bottom. “Lucky trees,” he murmurs. “Getting to see you as you first wake up. One of my favourite sights.”

  I lean in to him, inviting more groping and kissing, because hello, good morning, and he cups my ass with both hands as he ravishes my mouth until I’m ready to climb him like a tree.

  He’s not having any of that, though. He gently pushes me away. “You’re distracting me. Go explore the cabin while I finish making breakfast.”

  I start by taking a closer look at the L-shaped kitchen as Gavin continues to prepare our meal. There’s a white apartment-size fridge with a top freezer against one wall. Next to it is about six feet of counter, then along the adjacent wall there’s a sink and a narrow white gas stove with a bit more counter in between.

  It’s functional, but basic.

  Not at all what I expected from the Strongs. Although they aren’t flashy, the family has been wealthy and powerful for a long time.

  Long enough to upgrade to granite counters, and I kind of love that they haven’t. I definitely adore that this is one of Gavin’s favourite spots in the entire world.

  Deep down, my husband is a simple, lovely human being, and there’s something about this very ordinary kitchen that grounds me. I’m sure this is why Gavin wanted to honeymoon here—so we could start our marriage in the most normal, simplest of ways.

  Plus some kinky stuff on the side, of course.

  “What’s that?” I point to a fairly large metal box mounted on the wall between the sink and the stove.

  He looks at me, then to where I’m pointing. “That’s our water heater. It’s what will provide us with lovely hot water for the shower we’re going to take later. Together, because we’re on a well, and water conservation is a priority.”

  “I’m all for water conservation,” I toss over my shoulder as I wander through the dining room and into the living room. The walls are covered in art, from paintings to carvings to textiles. The view of the ocean through the floor to ceiling windows is magnificent. In the distance I can see the outline of larger islands.

  I curl up in one of the big, comfy-looking armchairs near the windows. I bet I’m going to spend a lot of time here just enjoying the peace of the sea.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Gavin calls a few minutes later and I join him in the kitchen. He’s holding up a what looks like a sun dress. “Put this on. We’re going to have breakfast on the deck.

  The material is soft against my skin, and my nipples pebble as I slip into the pale mint green and white tie-dyed cover-up. The top has scoop neckline with spaghetti straps while the skirt has a handkerchief hem where the lowest points nearly touch the floor.

  Gavin’s gaze zeros in on my hard nipples, giving me a most salacious grin as he hands me a plate with a mouth-watering omelette on it, cutlery, and a big mug of coffee. He grabs his own mug and plate, then leads the way outside.

  We settle into a wicker loveseat with deep cushions. I take my first bite and moan.

  He shifts in his seat, drawing my attention. His eyes are dark with promise. “Eat it all, Sprite. You’re going to need your energy.”

  Okay, then. I take another big bite and make sure he knows I like it just as much.

  But as breakfast continues, the teasing fades. Instead, we soak up the quiet beauty of the morning. The sun shines bright and a gentle breeze comes up off the water, fluttering at the floaty skirt of my cover-up. It feels decadent and lovely to be nearly naked outside, and I’m touched that Gavin thought of a way to make that happen.

  When we’re done eating, we do the dishes together. Gavin washes and I dry while he tells me where everything goes.

  When he gets to the pan he made the eggs in, he gestures upstairs. “I’ll finish here. You go up and put on sunscreen and a bathing suit then meet me outside so we can go kayaking.”

  I had hoped he had inside plans for us after breakfast, but I quickly squelch my twinge of disappointment and rush upstairs. After I cover my body in sunscreen, I put on my favourite bikini—the purple one that makes Gavin’s eyes bug out and snarl if he thinks anyone is paying me too much attention.

  When I get outside, I see him down by the water, next to
a long red kayak and a bunch of gear.

  “That was fast,” he says as I approach.

  “The sooner we do this, the sooner we get to do other things.” Like installing anchor points in our bedroom ceiling and exploring the rest of that clever first aid kit he brought. We only have four full days here, and I want to squeeze in as much unfettered kink as I can.

  But kayaking is fun. Maybe. In theory.

  He holds up a slim life jacket, which covers up the bikini top, but not before he gives me an appreciative once over. Bikini, job well done. “Personal floatation device,” he says as he helps me into it.

  “It’s lighter than I’m used to.”

  “This one is for kayaking—less bulky. We’re not going far from shore, but you’d inflate it here if you needed to.” He flashes me a reassuring grin.

  Well, I’m an excellent swimmer, even if I’ve never kayaked before.

  Moments later, Gavin is wearing a matching one in black.

  “Ready, Sprite?” he asks as pulls me in for a toe-curling kiss.

  “To go back to bed?” I ask with enthusiasm and just a little touch of brattiness. “You bet.”

  “Don’t worry, I have plans for a nap later. If you’re not good with this, we can skip it,” he says, nodding towards the kayak.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Really. Let’s go.” I am a little nervous, but I know if Gavin thought there was any risk, we wouldn’t be going.

  He steps into the water and straddles the kayak. “Climb in while I hold it steady, then we’ll be off.”

  Easier said than done…but then I climb in, and it’s not as difficult as I thought. Once I’m in, I turn to watch him, but the boat wobbles a bit, so I immediately face the front again. Then before I expect it, we’re off, gliding along the smooth water like a skate across ice.

  And it’s lovely. I think that might be my word for the morning. Lovely cabin, lovely husband, lovely excursion in a kayak I didn’t know was missing from my life.

  We stick fairly close to the coastline. Gavin points out a few things as we go, including where the RCMP is quietly watching us from hidden points across the way.

  “See those caves?” I turn to see him pointing at a small cliff on the island. “They’re made of limestone, and carved out by centuries of tidal movement and waves crashing against cliffs. Pia and I spent a huge portion of our childhoods playing in them.”

  My lower belly flutters at the idea of our children spending a carefree childhood playing in these same caves. “I bet you played pirates, didn’t you?”

  He chuckles behind me. “Of course I did.” We continue around to the other side of the island, then Gavin brings us to a complete stop. “Look up into the trees. See that really tall tree? Look at the very top.”

  I look to where he’s pointing, and I can see something kind of bushy that doesn’t seem to be part of the actual tree. “What is it?”

  “Bald eagle nest.”

  Oh, wow. I squint, trying to see it. “Seriously? There are eagles on your island?”

  “Yup. And this time of year, there should even be babies in it. Maybe we’ll come back out with the binoculars before we have to leave in case we can catch a glimpse of feeding time. There’s all kinds of wildlife here on and around the island. Maybe we’ll even see some sea otters. They like to come and sun themselves on the dock.”

  “That’s so cute.”

  “Yeah, they really are. But, I think the cutest is when the baby racoons come onto the deck and have a peek in the windows. Curious little critters.”

  It’s nearly lunch time by the time we’ve completed our circumnavigation of the island and Gavin sends me inside while he deals with the kayak and stuff.

  After I strip, leaving an all too short trail of bikini bits for Gavin to follow, I root through the fridge. I am amused to see a number of containers labelled with the day and which meal they are for. Once I find the ones marked Sunday lunch—which turns out to be red skin potato salad, grilled sausages, and watermelon—I serve it up and wait for Gavin to join me.

  One benefit of being naked is that I get to watch from a safe distance while Gavin uses power tools.

  By Tuesday evening, he’s installed anchor points in all sorts of subtle places around the cabin, and tied me up and spanked me to test them all out.

  My favourite might be the ones on the inside of the legs on my favourite chair in the living room. The metal loops are hidden by the slipcovers, which Gavin has already thought ahead and brought another set in our luggage.

  I’d wondered why so many suitcases arrived ahead of us, especially when I’d been told to pack very little.

  Turns out my husband is super sneaky.

  “We’ll have these cleaned and bring them back with us next time,” he says when I whimper about having come in spectacular fashion in that chair—spectacular, but messy.

  “You could have told me that while I was freaking out about the orgasm barreling down on me,” I say, still shaken.

  “What would be the fun in that?” He kisses my knee. My leg is still bent over the arm of the chair. I’m sure this is just a break between orgasms. We spent all afternoon walking around the island. We have naked time to make up for. He holds up the wine glass we’re sharing. “Are you thirsty?”

  “Mmm, yes.” He has to hold the glass for me, because my arms are bound, too.

  It’s a hard life, being catered to by the man I love. Cared for and worshipped, always safe and secure in his ropes or his arms.

  I sip the wine slowly, and when he sets it down, he leans in to taste it on my lips.

  That kiss quickly deepens into a hungry claiming, and Gavin loosens the knot at my arms, then frees my legs, too.

  We tumble onto the floor and he thrusts into me from below. This is how we’ve been making love since we arrived. Kink, sweet, kink, sweet.

  Not a bad start to married life, that’s for sure.

  All too soon, our last day at the cabin arrives, and we spend the morning preparing for our departure. Our honeymoon here has flown by, and I’m sad to be leaving this stunningly beautiful and peaceful place.

  I pack away a little baggie I’ve filled with pebbles, sea glass, and sand dollars. Mementos of walks along the beach surrounding Tree Top Island.

  “All packed up, sweetheart?” Gavin asks as he comes into the bedroom.

  “I think so, I just have to close my suitcase.” I let out a long sigh. “I wish we had a bit more time.”

  He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head, his hands coming to rest on my belly. “Me too, Sprite. I’d forgotten just how much being here recharges my batteries.”

  I sway against him. I’m happy to make this our default vacation spot, especially once we have kids. As he absently rubs against my tummy, I let myself hope, just a little, that this amazing place is where we’ve started our family. “We’ll be back soon.”

  He grins down at me and kisses me hard. “Of course we will. I’d hate to have gone to all that trouble modifying our bedroom if we weren’t going to make an effort to use it.”

  5

  Gavin

  August

  Ottawa

  There are people in my office.

  Normally, this is fine.

  Right now, it’s very much not fine.

  Ellie’s getting on a plane in three hours. Which means she needs to leave for the airport in about twenty minutes, and I need to fuck her first.

  She’s one of the people in my office, so we’re halfway there. I can already taste her. I just need to ditch everyone else.

  The problem?

  She’s the one who’s still talking. And everything she’s saying is really good stuff. Whip smart, my wife is.

  But she’s wearing too many clothes as she talks about innovation and Montreal being a new North American tech hub.

  Well, she’s actually only wearing three very light pieces of clothing. A pale blue dress over a matching pair of silk underthings. I know, I zipped her up hours ago, as I
was just arriving home from a red-eye flight back from Vancouver, and she was dashing out the door to a meeting at the university.

  “I’ll see you at lunch,” she’d said breathlessly. “We’ll have time then.”

  Famous. Last. Words.

  She showed up with a bag of takeout for us, but she’d arrived while Stew and some of the PMO staff were still here. And she’d asked what they were working on.

  “You might be interested in this,” Stew had said as he sat back down.

  Right then. That was where I should have cut them off. “Sorry, guys, but I want to have lunch with my wife before she jets off to Chicago for a conference. Out you get.”

  I didn’t say that.

  Now nearly…eighteen minutes have passed. Our lunch window is closing.

  I stand up abruptly, and Ellie shoots me an apologetic look, but before I need to make an ass of myself, Beth pushes the office door open with a quick, efficient knock.

  “Stew, there’s a call for you,” she says, flashing the chief of staff a smile. “And everyone else, if you could please follow me? The prime minister has another meeting right now.”

  There’s a chorus of murmuring good-byes as everyone files out. I follow them and close the door once they’re all out.

  As I lock it, Ellie starts to apologize and laugh at the same time.

  “I didn’t mean to get carried away with the conversation,” she says, still giggling while I hoist her onto the desk. “And is the lock on your door always that loud?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Beth knows what we’re doing.”

  “Also don’t care. I’ll give her a raise for interrupting just then.”

  “As a public servant, her salary is fixed,” Ellie says, her breath hitching as I peel off her panties.

  “Do you know how hot I get when you demonstrate your comprehensive knowledge of how the federal government works?”

  “Should I talk about NSERC grants next? Because I have thoughts.”

  “I bet you do.” I find her pussy wet and ready for me, and I sink two fingers into her tightness. “You might need to eat your lunch in the car on the way to the airport.”