Against the Rules

by Tori Carson

  “You do it, but I want to keep my undies on… At least for a little bit,” she added hastily.

  “Sounds fair.” Slowly, he unhooked the button of her jeans. He raised her blouse, baring her stomach. “You’re so beautiful, Channy.”

  She gripped the scarf and held it tightly.

  Teague’s hand went back to her jeans and pulled down her zipper. “Lift your hips.”

  He slid them down below her butt then stopped. Teague tipped his head back and laughed.

  Channy leaned forward and looked at her panties. Oh shit, she was wearing her cotton bikinis with the word Friday printed across the front. She broke into giggles.

  “Girl… You’re killing me.” He bent down and kissed her. His tongue invaded her mouth and stole every coherent thought from her head.

  She felt Teague drawing her hand toward her face, then the cool cloth draped across her eyes. When panic began to build, he replaced it with passion. His kiss turned feral and fear drifted away.

  Once their lips parted, his voice kept her focused on the present. He never gave her a chance to think of anything but him and what he was doing to her body. Slowly, he ran something pointy and cold up her leg and across her stomach. Just as the sensations turned familiar he used something rough like wool.

  Her breathing turned ragged as her arousal built.

  Each new stimulus took her need a little higher. Cool and sharp, warm and coarse, back and forth, he never let her know what was coming next.

  Occasionally, he’d run his fingers over her clit through the cotton material of her panties. Why had she wanted to keep them on? She was consumed with need.

  As his hand moved down to her pussy again, she couldn’t take it. “Please, take them off. I want to feel you touch me.”

  “My pleasure, darlin’.” He kept a hand on her thigh as he moved between her legs. He patted her ass, in what she took to be a silent demand that she lift her hips.

  The moment she complied, he pulled the undies off her. A second after that, his mouth touched her clit. She screamed and bucked against him.

  He inserted a finger then another into her pussy. She knew that she was dripping wet. As he pulled back, she groaned. “Please, don’t stop. I need you.” She should have trusted him. He’d told her countless times, they would make it work.

  The bed shifted under her and a tentacle of fear worked its way into her head until he started talking to her again. He was her talisman warding away the bad memories.

  “I’ve never needed anyone like I need you, Channy. I want you to marry me, to have babies with me.” He was out of breath and sounded a little desperate.

  “Yes.” She wanted to build a life with Teague. He gave her hope where she’d had none. She’d been so sure that she’d never be able to experience something like this again.

  The mattress shifted again and she felt him back between her legs. His bare thighs rubbed against hers and his cock was poised at her entrance.

  “Say it. I need to hear you say it.” He inched inside her.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She tried to slide down the bed and force him deeper.

  “And?”

  She groaned. “And we’ll have kids. Now stop torturing me.”

  Chantel froze. She couldn’t believe she’d said that. She tried to curl into a ball and push him away.

  Teague laughed. It sounded a bit forced, but she could feel the rumble from his chest against hers.

  He wasn’t angry. He had just taken it in his stride. His casual acceptance allowed her to breathe again.

  “Where are you going, darlin’? You’re jumping the gun again. You can’t be a runaway bride until you’re at the altar.” He lay over the top of her and began kissing her neck.

  “I don’t know how you can put up with me.” She was only partly kidding.

  “Channy…” He ran his fingers through her hair. “You make my life worth living. It won’t always be easy and I wouldn’t want it to be. Whatever challenges come our way, we’ll tackle them together.”

  Chantel pulled the scarf back over her eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

  Epilogue

  Standing at the altar, holding her father’s hand while the minister began their wedding ceremony, was surreal. The past few months had flown by. She knew she still had a long way to go, but now she was confident that she would get there.

  As her father placed her hand into Teague’s, she heard Carolyn sniffle. Teague glanced at his mom and winked.

  She hadn’t been happy at her son’s subterfuge and she’d had a few choice words to say about his style of protection. Yet she understood. Once Carolyn had learned that her son was alive, she’d decided to relocate to be near him. Helping her pack, Chantel had quickly realized that she was the aromatherapy lady from Teague’s past. A smile touched her lips at all the needless jealousy. That was one more thing, in an ever-growing list, to be thankful for.

  As Chantel took her place beside Teague, she noticed that her father had broken from tradition and sat beside Carolyn. The two were holding hands. She wondered in passing if that had had any bearing on Carolyn’s decision to move only a few blocks from her father.

  Teague and Channy had decided to wait until after the wedding to tell them that they were going to be grandparents. No one needed to know they’d gone against the rules.

  “Family and friends, we have come here today to witness and celebrate the joining of Teague Brodie and Chantel Donley in marriage. With love and commitment, they have decided to join their paths and to walk together as one.” The pastor smiled at Teague. “Please take Chantel’s hand.”

  She handed her bouquet to Tiffany as she and Teague turned and faced each other.

  “Teague, do you take Chantel to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love, cherish and guide her through the pleasures and challenges you will face for as long as you both shall live?”

  Teague winked at her. “I do.”

  “Chantel, do you take Teague to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love, cherish and follow him through the pleasures and challenges you will face for as long as you both shall live?”

  That was an easy question. They’d already overcome more challenges than Chantel had thought possible. Through each one their bond had only grown tighter. And as far as the pleasure went—phew—her cheeks heated.

  Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Anniversary

  Tori Carson

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Laura woke up in bed alone. She sighed in frustration. It’d been that way for years, why was it bothering her now? She rolled over and put her hand on her husband’s pillow. Her mood softened when she found a rose and a card. Her husband had been so preoccupied lately, she’d been afraid he might forget their anniversary. She should have known better. Sniffing the rose, she noticed the thorns had been removed. Of course, he would think of everything.

  Opening the card, she saw it was more like a pamphlet. The cover was a photo from their high school days. Wow, did they look…innocent, and stupid. The next page was a collage of pictures from back in the day. Goodness how times had changed.

  My dearest Angel, I suspect looking at these pictures, you were struck by how much has changed since we first fell in love. My rainbow-streaked-hair girl has turned into a stunning corporate executive. Your hand-me-down station wagon with the monkey hanging from the rear-view mirror has been replaced with a car much more fitting your elegant style. Those terry cloth rompers, flip-flops and plastic bangles have been traded for linen suits, high heels and diamonds. We won’t even mention the changes in me. Suffice to say—goodbye cheesy mustache!

  Our love has changed and grown too. I was pretty sure we had something special when we married. Now I know you are my life. My world revolves around your smile. Although I try to make sure you know that, sometimes I get mired down in day-to-day crap and I forget what’s really important.

  The other night while y
ou lay in bed sleeping, I needed to check something on the Internet. My tablet and laptop were in my briefcase, so I grabbed your tablet. I was pretty shocked to see your reading interests had changed so dramatically. Historical fiction to BDSM is quite a leap. I was even a little pissed off that I’d had no inkling.

  Laura dropped the card. Oh my God! She grabbed her tablet and scrolled through the book section. Nick had gone through her tablet. Her hands shook and a faint, ill feeling took over. Her sweet, vanilla husband had looked through her extensive collection of BDSM books and short stories. Holy crap! She forced her breathing under control and picked up the card again.

  I took note of the titles, purchased and read them all.

  Holy fucking shit! He read them. Read them all. Every raunchy, hotter than hell scene barraged her mind. That’s it. I’m divorced. Or dead. Our weekend getaway is just a ruse to give him time to hide my body. Her hands shook so badly she laid the card on the bed before she continued.

  Some I liked better than others. I found a few more I think you’ll like. We can talk about them this weekend.

  I see now I have been neglecting you. Like everything else, our sex life needs to evolve. I’m relieved to see every story had the girl as the sub, except that one with the switch couple. I hope you weren’t overly fond of that story. That won’t be happening.

  She read and reread the last part. It sounded like he wanted to play. Now her breathing was really ragged. Hope began to flicker like a little flame. Her husband was a successful attorney. He was Branson, of Branson and Associates. He knew how to take command. Just the thought of him commanding her got her wet. It was a little frightening. He certainly wouldn’t be a wussy Dom. Once he committed to dominating her, she wouldn’t be allowed any wiggle room. That’s just the way he was. Was she ready for this? Oh yeah, as long as he wanted it too… She loved him too much to push him into something he wasn’t comfortable with.

  Please see the attached form. We need to be on the same page with this. Look over the list, add to it if I left anything out, complete it and bring it with you tonight. I have completed the same list. We will discuss it at the hotel. I’m sure we can negotiate a game plan from there. Be ready at four p.m. Wear a skirt or dress with stockings, high heels and no panties. Your soulmate, Nick.

  Before she could do more than glance at the form, her cell phone buzzed letting her know she had a text. It was from Nick.

  Did you find your card?

  What should she say? She didn’t want to text about this, but he had to be wondering how she had received his…invitation. She texted back.

  Yes, Sir, I will be ready.

  He responded almost immediately.

  Good girl.

  Why was that hot? A shiver startled her. It was a freaking text message, yet she felt his whiskers brush her ear. His soft, warm breath caressed her neck as he whispered those two words. Two condescending words she wanted to hear over and over again.

  Laura needed to get her imagination under control and focus. Nick expected the list to be completed by this evening. She was a little intimidated by the task. The list was long, detailed and extensive. If he’d had John, his PA, type the form, she would kill him. No doubt about it.

  Nah, John would have used a sliding scale. This list was very cut and dried. Each item had three choices—want to try, need more information, not interested. Yep, the form was very Nick. No shades of gray.

  The first section included clubs, swapping and ménage.

  Okay, she was feeling much less confident now. She’d just marked ‘not interested’ to an entire section. Shit. Did he want those things? What if he’d marked ‘want to try’ on those? Could she try it?

  She just didn’t know. Nick had been her only partner. They’d been together since high school. She didn’t want anyone else. Did he? What had she got herself into?

  Section two was just as worrisome. Nick had broken down bondage into various categories with everything from materials to equipment. What type of restraint did she want to experiment with? Did she want to use the softer materials like ties or scarves, or dive a little deeper and try rope or cuffs? Was she willing to be bound to a spreader bar, St Katherine’s wheel or St Andrew’s cross? How did she feel about suspension or swings? Blindfolds, gags, hoods or dental equipment…

  She wiped a hand over her face. Had she created a monster? She didn’t even know what some of it was. At first, she answered using his three-point system. After a while, she started scribbling notes in the columns. She’d finished two sections when worry seized her. What if he decided she’d disobeyed by not following his format?

  A short, panicky chuckle escaped looking at section three—‘Discipline’. Oh fuck. It started out simple enough with spanking. Spanking scenes always got her hot. It just seemed bizarre that corporal punishment could make a woman excited. She knew why it happened. She understood the physical dynamics, but it was the mental aspect that sent her into orgasm territory. Crap, he even made that scary. Did she want him to use his hand, belt, crop, slapper, flogger, paddle, whip or cane? Caning was right out. There wasn’t any mental anguish about that choice. Hell no. Whipping was out too, for the time being. Maybe later. Maybe not.

  This section just kept going and going. Humiliation, electrical shock, orgasm deprivation, hot wax, fire and ice… He had even brought clamps into this section. She’d had no idea there were so many choices. How could she answer this when she had no reference to gauge it by? What was the difference between clover, tweezer and alligator clamps? Were weights and vibrators for pain or pleasure? Rubber bands were iffy. And what the hell was a Wartenberg Pinwheel? It sounded like something kids played with in the wind.

  Oh good heavens! Section four was titled ‘Anal Play’. Almost all BDSM stories had anal sex. It sounded…messy. She had to admit, at least to herself, a small part of her wondered what all the hoopla was about. Was it only enjoyable for the men or did the women really find it pleasurable too? Could any woman handle any man? Nick was large, larger than most, she suspected. She’d read about the ‘training’ process. Maybe it would work.

  ‘Pony Play’? That couldn’t mean what it sounded like. Nick was allergic to animal dander. She noticed the ‘fill in the blank’ line next to ‘plug material preference’ and was torn between laughing and crying. Obviously, Nick had done his homework. How had he gained so much knowledge in such a short period of time?

  Section five had a lot of the same categories as ‘Discipline’. What was the difference? Force? Intensity? She looked back at that section and had some distinct second thoughts. Why had she used a pen? If she crossed out half of her ‘want to try’ what would that say about her? She knew the exact smirk he’d get on his face. Nope, she would face the consequences of her choices rather than give him the satisfaction.

  The next section was intriguing. Create a playroom? Live the D/s lifestyle twenty-four seven? Abandon vanilla completely? Yikes. How could she make a decision like that without first experimenting? Fantasy and reality rarely had much in common. Surely, they would revisit the list after a trial period. Maybe she should have filled out the list with only this weekend in mind…

  Laura laughed. Submission was supposed to be freeing. Obviously, she sucked at it. She felt like she’d slipped out of her seat on a rollercoaster and was barely holding onto the back of the car as it flew around the track.

  A text notification alert sounded.

  You’ll find another copy of the list in the safe, in case you’re having second thoughts.

  A dumb grin was plastered on her face. He knew her so well.

  Thank you, Sir.

  She responded. She had assumed his distraction of late had concerned his meeting this morning. Now she suspected it was something entirely different. And she loved it.

  The text message alert tone sounded again.

  Keep both copies. I want to know what your thought process has been and what you finally decide on.

  Of course he would. Damn, he sounded jus
t like the Doms she’d read about. No, he wouldn’t allow her to get away with anything. Her panties were soaked. Should she masturbate? No, the anticipation felt good.

  Order your copy here

  About the Author

  Tori lives in the beautiful Sonoran Desert with her loving husband of almost thirty years. She wakes up each morning to the howls of coyotes and the barking of her family dogs wanting to join the fray.

  When Tori isn’t writing, she’s either spending time with her two, wonderful adult children, or creating stained glass art.

  She likes her love stories scorching hot. She tries to infuse a fire and passion between her characters that rivals the blazing summer sun that Arizona is known for. Tori encourages you to bask in the heat between the covers of a Dominant/submissive, happily-ever-after, bondage romance.

  Email: tori@toricarson.com

  Tori loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.

  Also by Tori Carson

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Anniversary

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Celebration

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Wedding

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Seduction

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Included

  Desired Discipline: Bondage Unlimited

  Totally Bound Publishing