by Lynne Silver
Chapter Three
God, that ass. He had daily fantasies about her perfect, curvy ass. Always had. He rarely held Thea’s hand, instead preferring to wrap an arm around her waist and take advantage of his hand’s location to cup and grab at her butt when the opportunity presented itself.
Now he had her tied facedown on the bed, and he couldn’t seem to look away from her. It was made for his hands. Each cheek, a perfect handful with extra padding for squeezing.
He sucked back a breath, with more adrenaline pumping through him than when about to break down the door of a suspected enemy, guns blazing. He had a lot of plans for that butt today, but first he had to get a good squeeze out of his system.
“Ryan.” Thea laughed when his palms cupped her cheeks and squeezed. Hard.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” He backed off to his magic box of tricks and found a tiny black rubber butt plug. He frowned down at it, thinking he could lube it up with what was dripping off his cock into the boxer briefs he’d put on after his quick shower. He hadn’t lost his erection since starting this thing with Thea, but she’d probably appreciate an over-the-counter lube in her virgin ass. He’d stuck a finger in occasionally during intercourse, but never anything the size of this plug.
After preparing it, he carefully placed the wet, gleaming plug at her back entrance and started to push.
“Relax,” he ordered as it encountered resistance in her tight passage.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice muffled. “I…wasn’t…expecting it.”
“Well expect it now.” He’d nearly asked if she was okay with it, but stopped himself before he fell back into the bad habit of catering to her every whim. This was his day and this afternoon, her body was his to own. He wanted the plug in her, and that was where it was going.
When it was seated deep inside, he sprinted to the bathroom for the floral-scented lotion Thea used on her body after the shower. He squeezed some in his hands and got to work massaging her whole body, starting at her toes. He kept the pressure intense, making sure to stop at her ass and swipe a finger even lower to her wet slit every so often. He didn’t want her to mistake this massage as something relaxing and put her to sleep. He wanted her on edge, ready at any moment for his cock to penetrate her.
Finally, he finished with her lower back and moved on to her shoulder blades. His left ring finger was starting to ache. He’d broken it a few weeks ago sparring against a rogue punching bag, taking his pain at Thea’s miscarriage out at the innocent black leather. The bag had retaliated by bouncing back unexpectedly, snapping a finger. Ironically, his ring finger.
Broken, scraped fingers were an occupational hazard in his line of work. He was used to working with at least one body part out of one-hundred-percent commission, but it still was a bitch when things ached.
He rubbed the knots out of her shoulders and kept his hands moving lower until they squeezed between her breasts and the mattress. He cupped her breasts, pleased at the hardness of her nipples still clamped between the silver rings. His knees straddled her lower back, putting the sensitive underside of his cloth-covered cock in direct contact with her spine. Using her breasts as hand grips, he flexed his hips, practically growling at his need to fuck her.
He’d better keep the boxers on if he had any hope of keeping this going. “On your knees,” he said and swung his leg over her body, so he knelt at her side. He assisted her, bending each leg at the knee and tucking them under her. Her whole body practically rested on her breasts pushed into the mattress, arms above her head, tied to the headboard.
The view was more gorgeous than the paintings Thea had taken him to see at the National Gallery last year. Arms tied, butt in the air all plugged up. Goddamn, he needed to get off soon. He slipped a finger in the elastic at his waist and tugged the underwear off, then he scooted onto the bed directly behind Thea.
He reached for the vibrator that had fallen to the side. No lube necessary now. Thea’s cunt was glistening and practically dripping from her desire. He flicked the power button and slid it into her passage.
The vibrations nearly sent her tumbling forward. Her weight rested on her crossed-over, tied-up arms, so she tucked her knees more firmly under her and concentrated on squeezing the vibrator and keeping it deep inside her. Every time she relaxed her muscles, it slipped out a little. The only problem was every time she did a Kegel to keep the vibrator in, it also squeezed the butt plug deeper.
To say she was filled to capacity was an understatement. She struggled to breathe with all her passages packed tight.
This more than met her fantasy. Except…where was Ryan?
“Turn your head, Thea.”
With difficulty, she turned to the right, resting her ear on her arm, and was treated to the visual of her naked husband standing at her side, fisting his cock.
Her lower muscles contracted unconsciously, bringing both dildos deeper. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Ryan’s swollen, hard cock and his big hand sliding from base to tip. When he came, he was going to shoot on her face. The dirtiest part of her that never imagined liking such a thing, craved it.
A needy noise escaped her. He worked himself faster. His chest heaved in time to hers and it was a race to the finish line. Until the bastard used his left hand to pull out the vibrator in her vagina, never stopping jerking off with his right.
His left hand came down on the crown of her head, holding her in place. Forcing her to watch him come. The only way to stop was to close her eyes, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t look away.
“Thea, I’m going to come,” he said harshly. Barely a second later, come shot out of his penis, but he turned so it landed on her shoulder, not her face. God, was she disappointed he hadn’t come on her face?
He’d barely caught his breath when he unclipped her wrist restraints from the bed, but left the cuff on each wrist.
With a deft move that showed he’d done this before, though never in a sexual situation, he pulled her off the bed to a standing position. The loose part of the wrist restraint went wrapping around her wrists, binding them together tightly in front with a lead almost like a leash.
He gave her a tug and she jolted forward.
“To the bathroom.”
“Ryan…”
He looked over his shoulder. “What?”
“The…butt plug?” He didn’t mean for her to walk with it in, right? She was going to waddle like a duck. Apparently, her husband had a thing for ducks, because he gave her restraints another tug, forcing her to shuffle behind him to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower to hot. Silence reigned as they stood chest-to-chest, bare feet on the cold white tile floor. Methodically, he stripped her of all her symbols of bondage. First the wrist restraints, then the butt plug. Finally the nipple clamps. She hadn’t realized how hard they’d squeezed until he lapped at her swollen pink skin, soothing and drawing her under his spell.
He jerked his head and indicated she should step over the tub ledge into the shower. He followed her in and reached for the showerhead.
Ryan’s tall body overwhelmed the confined space. Thea practically flattened her side against the cold tile of the shower stall. He took control of the showerhead and rinsed her off, starting at her hair and moving down to her feet. He took extra care to wipe away any traces of his semen from her shoulder.
“Spread,” he said, and lifted her leg by the underside of the thigh until her foot rested on the corner ledge of the tub. He stepped into her space, pressing his front to her back. His forearm wrapped around her chest until she was barely standing on her own. Most of her weight was supported by him.
His hand holding the shower wand also reached around her front, but lower. Much lower. With her foot balanced on the shower ledge, her pussy was wide open for the stream of hot water Ryan angled to hit her clit dead-on.
“Keep still, Thea,” he warned in her ear when her butt wiggled in reaction to the overwhelming pressure of the water. Between his hard body caging her
and the showerhead, she was a pool of nerve endings with all of them seeming to end at the juncture of her thighs. She wasn’t sure how he could see to aim the water exactly where she wanted it most. In fact, he couldn’t and the nozzle slipped and touched her all over, occasionally targeting her damp, tortured passage.
Ryan had promised seventy hours of denying her an orgasm and so far they were only one hour in, maybe two, and she couldn’t take it. She’d break any second and beg, plead, cry for relief. Her orgasm was so close and yet so far away.
He whispered dirty, naughty words in her ear in his deep voice and she writhed her backside against him, but his forearm kept her locked against him only able to move in inches.
“Your pussy’s so wet. You want my cock in you, don’t you?”
She nodded frantically. She wanted to turn around. Desperately. She’d turn and put her other foot on the ledge and lower herself onto the erection that was burrowing in the cleft of her ass. But Ryan was still playing his teasing games and she didn’t think her orgasm was coming in the shower.
“Please, Ry. Please. I’m so close.” If only he’d keep the shower head right…there! But no, it stopped on the magic spot then kept sliding around, hitting her everywhere but where she needed it. She started struggling against him in earnest.
“Thea, calm down.”
He loosened his grip enough to let her turn to face him. “I can’t calm down. I’m in agony,” she said.
He leaned to shut off the water, but didn’t respond. His stoic face gave nothing away. Maybe he was caving. She didn’t know. In silence, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a faded blue towel on his lean hips then spread the larger one out for her to step into. He wrapped her like a burrito and swung her up into his arms for a quick trip back to their bedroom.
He settled them both on the bed with her wrapped in the towel, cozied onto his lap. She relaxed back into his body, knowing he’d support her. For long minutes, neither said a word. They sat, breathing in a relaxed rhythm. One of his hands rubbed a figure eight pattern on her arm, the other held her tightly around her waist.
A drop of water fell onto her shoulder. She shook her damp head slightly, but then another drop fell in nearly the same spot. She stretched an arm to wring out her hair, but turned slightly in the process.
“Ryan?” The water droplets came from her husband’s eyes, not her wet hair. Every muscle in her body slowed to the speed of a line of cars on the highway on a holiday beach weekend.
He didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond from the look of it.
“Oh, Ryan.” Her own eyes got blurry from unshed tears. “I’m okay, Ryan. Really. Please don’t cry.” She reached for him, but he shifted out of her way.
“I’m not okay,” he said and bent his head to his knees, hiding his face. His shoulders shook with emotion.
The world stopped, spun a degree on its axis, while Thea registered her stoic, in-control husband was sobbing. Absolutely losing it. With a cry, she wrapped her arms around his back and yanked him to sitting so she could straddle his lap and hold him as hard as she could.
He was much physically stronger and she worried her fierce hug didn’t register with his body until gradually his arms came around her and his face burrowed into her neck. They sat wrapped around each other crying, unleashing all the hurt and pain of the past few weeks.
It took some minutes before their sobs subsided. Words of comfort and love began to flow between them like rain running down a glass window.
“I tried to be brave for you,” he said, his voice a brush of a feather against her cheek.
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“I loved our baby.”
“I know. Me too.”
Finally, Ryan raised his head to smile sheepishly at her. “No more punishments. For either of us. If Shep asks, I’ll tell him you were punished enough. Which is pure truth.”
“We both were punished,” she said quietly and tightened her arms around his neck even more.
His lips pursed and he cocked his head. “Yeah, we were.”
“Now what?”
He glanced down and yanked the towel out from between their entangled bodies. Then he leaned in to connect their lips in a gentle kiss. He tasted salty like the tears they’d both released in the cathartic burst of emotion. Their tongues tangled, lazily at first then picking up into a fast rhythm that had Thea matching her hip thrusts to the dance of tongues.
She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and brushed her nipples across his chest. He’d had to shave his chest hair for a mission, something about taping a weapon on. The sparse hair was growing back and it scratched at her chest in the best way possible.
Her hips undulated and she used her leverage to maneuver his cock to point up between their bodies.
Ryan pulled back from the kiss to give her an almost shy smile then lowered his mouth to plant tiny kisses along her chin line then down her neck. She cocked her head to the side, giving him easier access. Meanwhile, his hands grasped her upper rib cage, holding her close to him, but his thumbs stretched to finger her nipples. Nipples that were still a bit tender from the clamps he’d latched on earlier.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered.
His head came off her neck. “I’m still in charge here, hon. I’ll take you when I’m damn good and ready.”
She didn’t respond. Simply swiveled her hips, ensuring that her damp pussy rubbed every inch of his shaft.
He groaned. “Good and ready may be right now.”
“Yes,” she whispered and leaned in for another kiss.
His big hands grasped her hips and easily lifted her up a few inches then lowered her slowly down onto his cock. She sucked back a breath as he filled her. The vibrator she’d had in earlier was nothing compared to the sheer heat and size of her husband filling her.
With entwined arms, they sat for a moment, not moving, just savoring the feel of being joined. When Ryan leaned down to kiss her, open-mouthed, tongue on tongue, the move shifted his cock deep inside, reawakening all the day’s pent-up, unfulfilled passion. Thea knew she couldn’t sit still another second. Using her legs for leverage, she rose and lowered down, picking up the pace rapidly until she was digging her nails into her husband’s back and using him to get herself off.
He let her. He flexed his hips and let her rub herself on his tight, flat belly until the orgasm he’d denied her all day was finally hers. She collapsed against him, with him still buried inside and tried to catch her breath.
“My turn?” he asked with a chuckle in his voice.
She nodded with her cheek pressed against his chest. The lazy lull of satiation kept her dazed then surprised when Ryan thrust hard against her and simultaneously used his greater weight to push her back on the bed so he rose over her in missionary position. He scooped her legs by the backs of her knees and spread them wide with his forearms as his palms planted on either side of her head.
Then his hips began to piston in hard fast strokes, hitting her clit every time. Her breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. She was helpless to do anything but lie back and take it. An orgasm began building immediately back up.
Sweat glistened on his forehead and his eyes closed tight, blocking her from seeing into his eyes. She kept hers wide open, not wanting to miss a second. The mattress rocked under her back and the overhead light shifted in her vision.
When he bent to take a nipple between his teeth, she broke. Wave upon wave of blinding pleasure radiated throughout her body. Everything Ryan had done to her body had been worth it, since it led to this pinnacle of delight. Quite simply it was the best orgasm she’d ever had.
“That was the best. Ever.” Her arms flopped at her sides and her legs were as wobbly as if she’d spent the day jumping on a moon bounce.
Ryan chuckled. “You say that every time.” He collapsed at her side with some of his limbs trapping her against the mattress.
She turned her head as much as she could manage since her
brain was still spinning. “I know, but that really was.”
“I’ll have to keep trying to top it.”
“You do that.”
Outside the window, the sun was setting and inside their bedroom, they were going to need to flick on a light soon if they were going to see each other. But neither moved yet. They lay together not talking, not really touching, just existing in the same space. All the pain and tension of the last few weeks had gone into hiding. They both knew it would eventually rear its ugly head. The pain of losing their baby would always be a dark spot in their lives. Only this time, they’d be a team conquering their grief together, not two individuals lost.
With great effort, born of determination, Thea slid out from under Ryan’s leg and rolled to lie on top of him. His arms came around her waist.
“Love you,” she whispered against his chest.
“Back ’atcha.”
About Lynne Silver
Award-winning author Lynne Silver lives the life of a suburban soccer mom, volunteering with the PTA, doing laundry and working. By night she enters the sensuous world of alpha males and passionate heroines.
She lives in an old fixer-upper with her husband and their two sons. When not writing romance, she reads it. Lots of it. Over and over and over again, preferably with a bag of M&Ms in hand.
Lynne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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