By the time he stroked his cock across her closed lips, she was ready to open them to him. Leah drew in a breath at the sensation of his flesh on hers, at the tangle of his fingers in her hair. But she opened her mouth anyway and took him inside. Without her hands she couldn’t guide him, but she didn’t worry he’d push too deep or gag her. She trusted him, and Brandon didn’t betray that trust as he pushed gently inside. She sucked and was rewarded by the sound of his moan, a sound that sent an instant jolt of pleasure between her legs.
He liked getting head, of course he did. The same way she liked it when he was on his knees lapping at her pussy but forbidden from using his hands. She didn’t miss the echo of their earlier lovemaking, and remembering how it felt to be the one in charge added to the sensations building inside her now as the one at her husband’s mercy.
She wasn’t new to this—she’d been on the bottom many times in the past before admitting to herself she really wanted to be on top. But she was new to being like this for Brandon, and somehow that made it all different. He didn’t force, didn’t push, just gave her the chance to suck his cock after spending enough time making sure she’d want to.
His cock, slick from her attentions, slipped from her lips, and Leah turned her head to feel it against her cheek. She laughed, low. A face full of dick was so ridiculous and porny, yet she knew it had to be turning him on to see it.
“Beautiful,” came his whisper, and there was so much reverence in his voice she wanted to weep.
She lost track of time and floated on the sensations. A kiss to her collarbone. A stroke of something soft along the inside of her thigh. The press of his fingers inside her and withdrawn, the scent of her arousal as he drew them across her lips. Desire rose inside her.
This, too, was beauty.
It wasn’t like anything had ever been; it was everything she’d once imagined she wanted only now made real. Giving up to him this way was a gift Brandon had given her and, like a gift, she felt herself being opened, revealed. Unwrapped.
By the time he tugged loose the belt and lifted her from the chair to carry her to the bed, Leah was riding wave after wave of pleasure. When he pulled off the blindfold, she nearly came from the sight of his face, taut with desire.
They made love without bells and whistles, no fireworks shooting from their asses as they hung upside down from the chandelier and sang “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Him on top, her underneath and holding on to him with her arms and legs as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.
Her orgasm stole over her, quicksilver fast and fleeting, followed moments later by a deeper, slower flurry of tremors. Her nails dug into his back as she hooked her heels around the backs of his calves and urged him into her. Harder, deeper, faster.
Maybe there was a lot to say about this, or maybe neither of them needed words to describe it. At any rate, Leah drifted as sweetly into sleep as Brandon had led her into orgasm.
* * *
“Let’s get out of here.”
Brandon had been dozing when she said it. “Huh?”
Leah rolled toward him. “This place. It was a great idea, honey, and I don’t want you to think it wasn’t. But this isn’t Christmas. Let’s go to your parents’ house.”
He looked at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope.”
He frowned and sat up. “You mean it?”
She sat, too. “I want there to be a tree and presents and gingerbread houses. And eggnog. I want to be woken up at six in the morning by the kids who can’t wait to see what Santa brought.”
He was silent for a moment. “You don’t just mean this year, right?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean always. I mean us, a family. Sooner rather than later.”
“Are you sure? I thought maybe you’d want it to be just…us.”
She smiled. “I know how disappointed you’ll be to have to give up random dick sucking in the kitchen, but I think the benefits will outweigh the disadvantages, don’t you?”
Unexpectedly, the thought lifted something inside him, and he kissed her. “Damn, I love it when you get all tech-speak with me.”
“Mmm. But I mean it. Let’s check out. Change our flight. Let’s have Christmas in Iowa this year and, who knows, maybe next year we’ll get to have the tiny stocking.”
This revelation on top of her agreeing to let him tie her up sort of floored him, and he wasn’t sure what to say. “Umm…okay?”
Leah rolled on top of him, straddling him and pinning his hands over his head. “Don’t worry, Fuckmachine. I will still sully you every chance I get.”
He could’ve bumped his hips and nudged her off him, but that wasn’t the point. “Promise?”
“Absolutely. And sometimes I’ll even let you tie me up.”
“Really?” Brandon felt the grin spread across his mouth. “Promise that, too?”
“Yep.” His wife let go of his wrists and sat up, looking so beautiful it made his heart hurt. “Things change all the time, baby, but that doesn’t mean this has to. Or that we will.”
“I guess we’ll find out, huh?”
Leah smiled and leaned to kiss him again. “Yes. We will.”
* * *
Gingerbread houses, eggnog liberally spiked with liquor, fire burning in the fireplace, and a room full of rowdy, overexcited children tearing through wrapping paper and gift bags. This was Christmas, Leah thought, curled against Brandon’s side on his brother Brent’s couch. She had a belly stuffed with turkey and stuffing, a mug of Irish coffee in one hand and her husband by her side. Nothing could be better.
Sure, the mattress in his childhood bedroom was lumpy and they couldn’t exactly make wild monkey love all day and night the way they’d been doing on vacation. Sure, the kids were out of control, but his mom had cried and clung to them when they showed up on her doorstep, making Leah feel more welcomed and at home than she had for most of her life. Her ankle had even started feeling better.
Brandon, in the midst of conversation with his brother, kissed her temple absently. No big deal. Not even really paying attention. Yet that tiny, simple gesture moved her as much as if he’d jumped up in front of everyone and shouted out how much he loved her.
She looked at the fireplace mantel, which held the so-called “tiny stocking” and would until someone else had a baby. Maybe next year the tiny stocking would be theirs. Maybe not.
Still laughing at something his brother had said, Brandon eased her cooled mug from her fingers and stood. “I’ll get you some more.”
When he’d disappeared into the kitchen, she discreetly thumbed a text message into her phone.
When he returned, as he bent to kiss her and press a fresh mug of coffee into her hand, Brandon whispered into her ear. “Just as soon as we get back to my folks’.”
They laughed together at the silly task she’d set for him and which he’d take such pleasure in performing, their own private joke that nobody else had to know. And later they laughed again, trying not to make the bed squeak as Brandon did everything Leah had requested of him.
This was beauty, she thought as she drifted off to sleep with his warmth beside her.
This was love.
And that didn’t ever have to change.
About the Author
Megan Hart was born and lived for a while, and she did some stuff. Then some other stuff. Eventually, she started writing books. Now some of them get published. She writes in the woods of Pennsylvania, where she lives with Superman and two monsters…erm…children. Learn more about her at her website, www.meganhart.com, or her blog, www.readinbed.net.
Believe
By Lauren Dane
Their First Christmas, Bound Together…
All Jude wants for Christmas is Rori, all to himself. It’s their first holiday season as a couple, and staying home, seeing friends and family, means they’ll be surrounded by the memory of Rori’s late husband. It’s time for Jude and Rori to create their own traditions. Time for them to fully
explore their most intimate desires to dominate and submit.
Rori is thrilled when Jude whisks her away to a luxury resort in the mountains. Spending Christmas away, just the two of them, is the perfect time to show him she’s ready to give herself to him completely…
Dedication
This one is for the readers who’ve been asking me for more of Rori and Jude for years now.
Thanks to the many folks at Twitter who responded so generously to my request for information about holiday getaways – I don’t know where I’d be without the Twitter hivemind.
Chapter One
Two weeks. He’d been gone while attending a training in Dallas for two whole weeks and it had sucked. Being without him wasn’t something she was used to, or that she liked in any way.
But to pass the time and to give him a Christmas present she knew he’d love, Rori had gone to a tattoo parlor with their friend Ryan and had her right shoulder done. Nothing too big or brash. A pretty, stylized melding of her initials and his, wrapped around an infinity symbol. She wanted to mark her commitment to him in a tangible way.
He was due back tomorrow and she could hardly wait. She missed him in a way she couldn’t have understood without him being gone. Realized how much he did for her. The place he filled in her life and in her heart. In the time they’d lived together, before they were a couple and then in the months after, he’d become essential to her. He looked at her and made her feel like the most beautiful woman alive.
As if by some sort of magic, he knew just what she needed and when she needed it. He was her other half. He made her laugh. Didn’t hog the covers, hefted the heavy stuff and didn’t balk if she asked him to pick up tampons at the grocery store. He saw straight to her heart and he loved her anyway. Having that connection with him was the finest thing in her life and something she figured she’d never be lucky enough to feel once Zach, her former husband, had been murdered nearly two years before.
But she had him. He had her and she was, indeed, blessed.
Again, she thought this was the case when she came around the corner on the last block to their house and saw him on the porch. Laughing, she double timed it, jogging toward him and pausing, just a moment, at the front walk to take a long look at what was hers.
She took a good look from the tips of his scuffed cowboy boots, up the long legs covered in pale, worn denim, the bulge at his lap, the narrow waist with the tucked-in shirt and belt buckle. She caught her breath as her pulse galloped. She loved every tall, lean, muscled inch of his body. Her gaze moved again, up the chest she nibbled her way down as often as she could, the wide shoulders and work-strong arms and up into a face she’d dreamed of for years and years, never imagining she’d wake up to it every morning.
Falling into his gaze.
He leaned back against the porch, stretching out and preening just a little for her. The smile on his lips brought her nipples to attention.
Jude Callahan in all his glory.
The road that had brought them together—that had built this relationship she gave thanks for every single day—had been a hard one. Filled with pain and loss. And yet, there he was on their porch, with eyes only for her, with a smile that spoke of delicious secrets only she knew.
“Now look what I got here. Come on up here, sugar, let me taste those lips.”
As if she had anything else she’d rather do just then?
She moved to him, up the steps and into his arms, and came home.
His mouth on hers, as always, settled in for a taste. Exactly how he wanted. She sighed, opening to him, melting against him, glorying in his flavor, in the way his arms held her to his body.
The heat of him forced the chill of the cold December day from her bones. When she shivered, it was for an entirely different reason than the cold.
“Now then.” He set her away from him, his eyes going half-lidded when she licked her lips to get that last bit of him she could for the moment. “I feel lots better.”
“Good. My work is done then.” Because she could, she took another tour from his toes to his gorgeous face. “You’re home! A whole day early. What are you doing out here? It’s cold. Did you lose your keys? Not that I mind, it sure made that last half block easier to see you waiting up here for me looking all handsome and stuff.”
“I had the chance to catch an earlier flight so I grabbed it. The last day wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before so I got out of there and back here to you. Glad I did.” He hugged her again and she snuggled back into his body.
“Yay.” She kept hold, not wanting to let go just yet of how good he felt.
“Just got home about three minutes ago. I saw you cross the street over at Alder and decided to wait. You jiggle pretty-like when you jog up the steps.”
“Pervert.” She swished past him and into the house, reaching out to take his hand as she passed. That thread of their connection shimmered and solidified. That space he took up inside her warmed and settled in.
“This shouldn’t be news to you.”
Once the door was closed and locked, he pulled the window shades closed before turning back her way. “Now then. You’re here and I’m here and we don’t even have to webcam. Though I will say I find having you naked and fingering your pussy on camera for me while I’m away sure does make the time apart a little easier to bear.”
She sighed happily, taking the coat he had in his hands and moving to the closet to hang it up for him.
“Good. I felt positively wanton.” Funny how he did that, enticed her to do things that made her blush, knowing she’d get off on them once she let go.
He laughed. “Only for me, darlin’. Now. You and me, naked. Sweaty. I think some writhing might help too.”
“I have something for you first.” She took his hand and drew him down the hall to their bedroom.
“I was getting to that. That’s part of the naked sweaty plan I was proposing.”
“No silly. Your Christmas present. The big one anyway.”
“Christmas is three weeks away. You’re so impatient.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
She moved to their dresser, pausing before the mirror. Meeting his gaze in its reflection, she paused a beat until his attention was focused on her so intently she shivered as if she could feel it like a phantom caress.
“Well, as it happens, your being gone was good for my plans.” Facing him, she reached down to pull her sweater up and over her head and then shimmied from her bra.
“Liking this so far.”
She turned, bowing her head, waiting for him to see the tat.
“Holy shit.” In the space of a breath he was on her, standing so near the heat of him blanketed her bare back. He leaned close, his breath against her skin as he brushed the hair away from her shoulder, exposing the tattoo to his view.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Do you like it?” It was important—she knew that right then—that he did.
“Rori, this is… No one but you has ever touched me like this.” Gentle fingertips traced over the ink, replaced by his lips. “It’s beautiful. I want one too, just like yours. In the same place.”
She smiled, her hair covering her face. “I’d like that.”
“And now you have to help me with my problem. You created this, you need to fix it.”
She turned. Knowing what his next words would be did not blunt their effect when he spoke.
“On your knees. Suck my cock just the way I like it.”
She knelt quickly, her hands moving to his belt and the zip and button of his jeans. Just how she liked it too. His clothes still on as she knelt there in his gaze. Totally naked. It amped up the power between them, crackling against her skin as she leaned in and brushed her cheek over the line of his cock before turning her head to kiss the ridge where he was most sensitive.
Time seemed to slow, draw out with honeyed sensuality as it often did when she found herself on her knees for him. His cock, standing fierce and hard,
drew her attention and she went back for another long lick and some more kisses before she took him at the root, angled him just so and took a deep breath. Bit by bit, she took him deep, keeping him wet, the way he liked it best.
His fingers sifted through her hair and then tightened, sending a shiver through her, hardening her nipples, where the rings he’d given her swayed, sending a pulse of desire through her pussy. Her groan around him only made him harder against her tongue.
“I love it when you do that,” he murmured. “When you groan half pain, half desire and then you keep sucking my cock. When you give yourself to me it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”
He wasn’t a man prone to empty flattery. Not by this time in their relationship. Shallow, flirty Jude had gone, grown into a man whose word meant everything. So when soft words, especially those laced with darkness, flowed from him, it got to her.
“Wait.” He said it, but he didn’t sound very sure about it. She paused for a moment, letting him decide. He put a hand on her shoulder and she pulled back with a slight pop.
The way he stalked over to the chest at the foot of their bed made her tremble just a bit, knowing what he had in store for her.
“You’re too pretty not to be bound right now.” He turned toward her, the wrist cuffs dangling from his fingertips.
Swallowing did little to help her suddenly dry mouth. And then he brought out the blindfold and she blinked several times, not bothering to hold back her smile. He knew what got to her. He knew. He used it. Pushed her buttons. Her boundaries. And brought her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined.
Within moments he’d secured the blindfold, the fuzzy inner lining light, tight and very soft against her face. Another contrast, just like the man who’d put it in place. “Hands at the small of your back.”
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