by Lili Valente
Clay grinned. “I told you I was going to get one for the house.”
“The house. Not our hotel room.” Harley’s brow furrowed as she circled around to the far side of the room, surveying the wicker and leather creation from a different angle. “What kind of place is this, that they just happen to have a bondage swing on hand?”
“They didn’t,” Clay said, beginning to wonder if this had been a good idea. So far, Harley looked less than thrilled by his surprise. “It’s ours. I had it made by a local wicker expert while we were in Tahiti visiting your aunt. I’d planned for it to come back to the States with us, too, but we can drag it out to the beach and burn it if you would rather.”
Harley’s head swiveled in his direction. “No, of course not. It’s g-great.” She gestured toward the swing. “I mean, look at all the…wicker. And the straps. With the cotton cushion things. Those are really nice. Bet they wouldn’t chafe at all.”
Clay crossed the room, taking her hand and pulling her lightly against him. “It’s okay. If you’re not into the chair anymore, we can leave it here. I’m sure Jackson and Hannah would love to add it to their locked room downstairs.”
Harley huffed softly. “You noticed that, too? I wonder if that’s where they keep the whips and chains. ”
“I don’t know, but your sister seems pretty damned happy. Whatever they’re doing, they must be doing it right.” He cupped her jaw, rubbing his thumb gently over her skin. “I want to make you that happy. Tonight and every night.”
“You do,” Harley said, but she kept her gaze on his chest.
“Harley, look at me.” He waited until her blue eyes lifted reluctantly to his. “Seriously, I don’t give a shit about the swing. I thought it would be a fun surprise, but clearly it isn’t. Don’t waste another second thinking about it. ”
“I can’t help it,” she said, the furrow between her brows deepening. “I’m not that person anymore, Clay. I can’t be. You couldn’t take me to a dungeon now. Not unless you wanted to impress the importance of birth control onto the young and impressionable people in the room.”
Now it was his turn to frown. “You can’t be serious.”
“I can.” She tried to pull away, but his arms tightened around her, holding her against him. “I am. If I sat in that swing right now, it would be the opposite of sexy. It would be a horror show of stretched out belly skin and saggy boobs and scrawny arms and legs because I haven’t had the time or the energy to get to the gym and—”
“Stop it,” Clay said. “I hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth,” she said, throat working as she swallowed. “Under this dress, I’m like a rotted peach. Or a gremlin who recently had lap band surgery and hasn’t had a chance to get the extra skin removed.”
Clay laughed even as pain flashed through his chest. He didn’t just hate hearing her talk this way; it was physically painful. Here she was, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, the most precious and irreplaceable, his best friend and the one person he couldn’t live without. But when she looked at herself she saw a flappy-skinned gremlin.
Clearly he hadn’t been doing a good enough job convincing her she was beautiful.
And that stopped. Right now.
“See?” A sad smile curved her lips. “It’s funny because it’s true. I’m basically golem. But with bigger boobs.”
“You are not golem with bigger boobs,” he said firmly. “But you are funny. I’ve laughed more the past year than the rest of my adult life combined.”
She leaned into him with a sigh. “Good. It’s nice to know I have something going for me now that my body is a lost cause.”
“Your body is not a lost cause,” he said, his hands smoothing down her back to mold to her amazing ass. “Your body is my fucking crack rock and I’ve been way too long without a fix. Now get your butt up on that bed and let me show you how much I love you.”
Her breath rushed out. “Clay, I don’t know if—”
“I said get your ass up on the bed,” he said, delivering a firm swat to her bottom that made her cry out in surprise and heat flare in her eyes.
Trusting his gut, he lifted his hand, fisting it in her hair, holding her captive as he leaned down, letting his lips hover above hers as he spoke. “It’s time to turn off your mind. Turn off your mind and let me turn on your body.” His free hand drifted up, cupping her breast through her dress. “Let me fuck you until you come again and again, until you can’t take any more pleasure and there is no doubt in your mind that you are the sexiest woman ever born.”
“I might not be able to come,” she whispered, even as her arms curled around his neck. “It might hurt too much. It hurt like hell the first time after I had Jasper.”
“It’s not going to hurt,” he promised, backing toward the bed.
“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me. And I’m going to get you so wet, so ready, that you’re going to come the second I slide inside you.” Her knees hit the back of the mattress and Clay reached up to flick the mosquito netting over their heads. “But first, I’m going to make you beg for it, sweetheart.”
“Is that right?” she asked, lips curving as she arched a brow. “You know I don’t beg easy, big guy.”
“You don’t do anything easy.” He turned her around, reaching for the zipper on her dress. “That’s part of your charm.”
She shivered as he drew the zipper down, baring the elegant curve of her back. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?” He slid the straps down her arms, pressing a kiss to one lightly freckled shoulder. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”
“For thinking my stubbornness is charming.” She shivered again as he guided the dress over her hips and sent it falling to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a white strapless bra and white lace panties. “And for loving me even when it’s hard.”
Chest aching all over again, Clay wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close, burying his face in her hair near the slope of her beautiful neck.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her more than anything in the world, more than life, more than even their children because there never would have been the miracle of Jasper or Will without the miracle of Harley first. He wanted to tell her that, after only a year of marriage, he felt so close to her that it was like a piece of her soul lived inside him, a piece that made him happier than he’d ever been before.
He wanted to tell her that loving her made him a better man, that the hard times made the sweet times even sweeter, and that there was nothing in the world he would rather do than be with her, skin to skin.
But some things are better said with actions than words. Some things can only be clearly communicated in the language of a kiss.
So he turned his beautiful, wounded, perfect, crazy, wild, sweet, wonderful wife around and he kissed her with everything in his heart.
Chapter Six
Harley
The first time it happened was last October. Clay had taken her and Jasper out for a fancy dinner to celebrate Jasper’s first kindergarten report card. They’d had steak, grilled asparagus, and flourless chocolate cake, and Harley had stolen a couple of sips from Clay’s glass of red wine, her OB having assured her a sip or two wouldn’t hurt the baby.
They had laughed and rehashed the simple, beautifully ordinary events of their week, sharing silly family jokes and secret smiles, and at their table for three, love and gratitude had made the candles shine a little brighter.
Afterward, she and Clay had taken Jasper home and put him to bed before adjourning to their own bedroom where the rest of the world had disappeared.
There had been nothing but Clay’s kiss, his hands, his love filling her up until she felt like her body would overflow and start leaking happiness all over the sheets. Gradually she had lost awareness of their separate bodies, their separate skins, as all the barriers between them were b
urned away.
She thought she’d made love before, but until that night, she hadn’t come close. Before—even in the midst of the hottest, sweetest, most soul-altering sex she’d ever had—she’d always had one lid cracked. She had always been aware of the emergency exits, the primitive part of her brain busy mapping out an escape route, just in case one was needed.
But that night with Clay she’d run to him like the war was over, like the enemies were lying dead on the battlefield and all the evil in the world was smoldering in the ruins. She’d run to him, crashed into him, seeped through him, merging with the man she loved until there was no him or her, only them, this, a moment that lasted for eternity because it was the truth in a world full of lies.
And the truth was love and it was vaster than anything she had ever imagined.
Now, as Clay lengthened himself above her, kissing her until the kiss became a conversation and then a benediction—a promise that what they had transcended fragile bodies and any scars they bore—she remembered that this was who they were. They were two who had become one, and he was her irreplaceable beloved.
And she was the same to him.
Kissing him, feeling his warm hands sliding up her thighs, setting her heart to beating faster, she wondered how she could have doubted it, even for a moment.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured against his lips, breath catching as his fingers drew her panties to one side and his thumb found her clit.
“You, too. So much.” His finger slid easily into where she was already wet. And there was no pain, only a wave of arousal that swept across her skin and the sense that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. “God, Harley. You feel so good. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“Sounds like you might be the one who ends up begging,” she teased, hands trailing down his lightly furred chest to find his nipples and pinching them with her fingers.
“Not a chance,” he said with a groan. “Fuck. I never knew that could feel so good until you.”
“Your other lovers were lacking in imagination,” she said, breath rushing out as he continued to fuck her with his finger, stroking deeper, curling the digit until he was hitting that secret place inside her. “I would like to bite you right here.” She pinched his right nipple, the flat brown disc that she knew tasted like salt and home and Clay. “But then I would have to move and you would have to stop doing that thing you’re doing.”
“Tough choice.” Clay made a considering noise as he reached back to release the clasp on her bra with his free hand. “Why don’t I bite you instead and we’ll call it a win-win?”
Any retort she might have made tripped and fell into a ravine somewhere in her mind as he lowered his mouth and flicked his tongue across her nipple, then drew her inside his mouth and sucked hard enough to make her eyes roll back in her head. Immediately, every nerve ending in her body ignited and sharp, almost painful waves of pleasure coursed from her sensitive tip to burn between her legs. Her nipples hadn’t quite recovered from her failed attempt to breastfeed Will. The skin was still raw and the nerves frayed. She had been avoiding touching herself there as much as possible—even in the shower.
But now, as Clay licked and sucked and bit, dragging his teeth lightly across her sensitized flesh, the pain bled into pleasure. Fresh heat rushed from between her legs to coat his finger and her blood pumped faster, until the heavy thud thud thud echoed in her ears, a drumbeat that underscored her increasingly urgent need.
She fisted her fingers in Clay’s hair and lifted into his thrusts. “More. I want more of you.”
“That doesn’t sound like begging,” he said, shifting his mouth to her left breast and circling her nipple with his tongue.
“Please,” she said, spreading her legs wider in supplication. “Please give me more.”
He added a second finger, stretching her until there was a flash of pain. But it was only a flash and soon it too was washed away by the desire flooding through her body, making her skin feel almost feverishly hot. He penetrated her with long, smooth strokes while the heel of his hand applied pressure to her clit, quickly driving her within kissing distance of the edge.
All she had to do was lean in and she would tumble over, but she didn’t want to go without him.
“Now.” Her hands slid down to claw her fingers into the thick muscles of his ass. “Please, I want you. I need you inside of me when I come.”
“No, you’re going to come for me first.” His fingers rocked more insistently inside her. “On my hand, and then on my mouth. By the time I fuck you, you’re going to be so wild I won’t—”
Harley cried out, drowning out the rest of his words as her womb contracted and her pussy locked down on his fingers. Her orgasm was slow and disjointed, working through her in jerky fits and starts, like opening a door with hinges that hadn’t been oiled for a long, long time.
But it was also fan-fucking-tastic.
She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing stars and white light exploding against a velvet sky and maybe God—at least a peek at the almighty infinite, if She was anywhere, She was where there was love like this—before she forced her eyes open with a gasp. She needed to look at Clay, to see his face while the pleasure he’d given her rocked her body from head to toe.
“Fuck.” His features twisted as he bit down on his bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful when you come. So fucking beautiful. I can’t wait to make you go again.”
Before she could respond, he was kissing his way down her body. He paused at her already kiss-swollen nipples to lick and tease, before moving farther down. He kissed her belly, making love to each inch of newly stretched out skin with a reverence that made her throat tight, before his tongue found the seam where her torso became thigh and began to trace his way even lower.
Her breath hitched and she shivered, her nipples tightening despite the warmth of the room.
“I’ve been dreaming about this for months.” With his hands firm at the back of her knees, he spread her wide, groaning as he bared her pussy. “There you are. Look how wet you are, how wet and ready for me to take you with my mouth. I can’t fucking wait to taste you.”
“Clay, God, I—” Her words ended in a sharp intake of breath as his tongue swept up her center, through the lips of her pussy to her clit, where he teased her in circles just long enough to make her squirm before transferring his attention to the rest of her swollen aching flesh.
His tongue probed and teased, exploring every inch of her, finding hidden places that were already sensitive from her first orgasm and pulsing his tongue against them until she writhed and moaned.
It felt like he was pushing on a bruise, painful, but exhilarating. With every rush of pleasure-pain, she came more savagely to life. It was like waking up from a dream, emerging from the cocoon of motherhood and new baby thrills and fears for the first time to realize that she was still a woman. She was still this man’s woman, a fact he was making more increasingly clear with every flick of his talented tongue.
“You taste like the ocean.” He thrust his stiff tongue deep into her channel—once, twice, three times—making her gasp and her hips lift off the bed, instinctively seeking more, deeper, harder.
“Like life,” he continued, murmuring against her aroused flesh as his thumb circled her clit, drawing a whimper from low in her throat. “Like the beginning and the end and everything in between and I want it all with you. I want every fucking minute with you. Can you feel how much I need you?”
She sobbed his name, her breath coming so fast the ceiling started to spin. “Yes, I love you. I need you. So much. Please, I’m begging, Clay. I’m begging for you, I’ll do anything. Just fuck me, you sadistic son of a bitch.”
He made a sound, half groan half laugh, as he drove his tongue back inside her, plunging in and out as his thumb circled the top of her sex.
“Then come for me,” he said, pulling away to lick her from top to bottom. “Come for me and then I’m going to be inside you so deep.”
His fingers plunged inside her while his tongue moved to her clit, flicking back and forth in a bone-melting rhythm. “I can’t wait to feel you. My dick is fucking weeping for you right now.”
“Please,” Harley begged, her heels digging into the mattress and her thighs trembling. “Now, please, Clay. Oh God yes, I—”
She came so hard that something at the core of her detonated and her spirit swelled, expanding past the boundary of her skin to fill the room as Clay surged over her to cover her mouth with his. She opened for him, welcoming his tongue stroking through her mouth and the taste of him and her mingling in his kiss. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, welcoming everything he had to give, inviting him to take everything he needed.
And then his cock was at her opening, pushing inside, slow and steady, but unrelenting, gliding forward until every inch of him was buried inside of her and his balls pulsed in the seam of her ass. He stretched her walls, filling every inch of her. He was by far the thickest lover she’d ever had, but there was no pain, only pleasure, gratitude, and the sense that she was back where she belonged.
“So perfect.” She sighed as the fear that it would be too painful for her to make love to him properly this first time faded away.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, holding still inside her, his breath puffing gently against her lips. “I’m sorry I failed you.”
“Are you insane,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. “Did you miss the two times you made me come like I was having an out of body experience? ”
“But you didn’t come when I pushed inside you the way I promised,” he said, circling his hips, his pubic bone nudging her clit, making her breath catch. “I don’t like to fail.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck with a smile as she began to rock against him. “Then don’t pull out until you get what you want. Then it still counts as the first thrust. Right, psycho?”
“I’m not a psycho.” He reached down to cup her ass in his big hand, shifting the angle of their hips until his slightest movement caused new friction across the top of her sex. “I’m just invested in keeping my promises. Especially to you.”
