by Lacey Savage
“Fuck me, husband,” I whispered as I seated myself fully over his shaft. “Fuck me hard.”
He gripped my thighs to steady himself and thrust upward, lifting his hips to grind into my pussy. I gasped at the fierceness of his motion and slammed myself down to greet his swollen cock. It didn’t take long for us to find a rhythm. He dove upward, pummeling me with his shaft, and I sank down, taking him deep and releasing him so we could start all over again.
My nipples pebbled against the piercings. They were mostly healed now, and I’d been toying with them idly in the shower, loving the way the hoops hung from my distended nipples just waiting for someone to tug on them. So far I’d been the only one to accept that challenge, but no longer.
I unbuttoned my silk blouse and unhooked my bra. My breasts spilled out, in plain view of anyone who walked by. Cole’s pupils darkened.
“Ginny.” My name on his lips was a warning this time, gruff and husky.
“Touch me.” I demonstrated by palming my breasts, lifting them up as an offering.
He groaned and released my thighs. His hips continued to move in that same insistent rhythm, forcing his steel rod into my channel then sliding back so it nearly slipped out before plunging in again.
His hands covered mine. I loved the contrast of his thick fingers beside my slender ones. I pulled my hands away, leaving my breasts entirely at his mercy. He tweaked one nipple, then the other, but slowly and much too gently.
I growled my irritation. “You won’t hurt me.”
The lift of his eyebrows said he was skeptical, but he tugged a little harder, sending a sweet jolt of pain through my body. I arched into it, rocked against his pelvis. He groaned as he pumped inside me and pinched my right nipple between thumb and forefinger.
He lowered his other hand beneath my skirt again and found my clit. Pressing it with the tip of his thumb, he worked my sensitive nerve endings into a frenzy, heightening my arousal, deepening my need.
“Come for me, honey.” His eyes were fierce, commanding me to obey. He needed this as much as I did, and I’d be damned if I’d disappoint him again.
I arched my spine and closed my eyes, letting the sensations he was summoning from my body wash over me. My stomach muscles tightened, and a familiar need coiled in my belly. I held on to that feeling, knowing how fleeting it could be.
But not this time. This time I was determined to see it through, to climax on my husband’s cock and give us both the release we craved.
I gritted my teeth. Desire coursed through my veins like a lightning bolt. Cole’s cock felt like a ramrod inside me, hard and demanding, stretching, pulsing, claiming. I rocked against him and squeezed down so my inner walls clamped tightly around him.
I reached the edge of my control. Any second now I’d fall over that precipice and come, gloriously and savagely, the way I’d always wanted.
Cole growled, low in his throat. “Honey.”
The trigger word spread lust like wildfire through my veins. Pleasure flowed through me, but even as it did, I knew it was fading rather than growing stronger. I gasped and flailed, reaching for the release that was just beyond my grasp, begging it to return.
Cole thrust one more time and came with a hoarse, guttural cry. His seed filled my channel, hot and wet. He shuddered beneath me, the ripples of his orgasm rocking my body with the force of his release.
Envy flooded my core. I wanted to come like that, to lose myself for a blissful moment in my lover’s arms.
But I hadn’t, and when I opened my eyes, I realized we both knew it.
Cole tried to mask his dismay, but I saw it written clearly on his face before he pasted a bright smile in its place. “Next time,” he said, patting my thigh gently. “No big deal.”
“It’s a huge deal.” I held back a sob as I lifted myself off him. His seed slipped from my folds to drip onto his stomach. “I’m broken.”
“Stop that. You came the other night, when Erik and I…” He swallowed hard, no longer meeting my eyes. “When we were all together.”
I turned away from him and reached for the glove box, where we tossed spare napkins from takeout bags, and returned with a handful.
Cole took them from me and cleaned us both up while my mind whirred around turbulent thoughts. Was I really so depraved that I could only come with a man who wasn’t my husband? First the piercing artist, then Erik.
Or had Cole been right? Had he been the problem all along?
I shook off that thought, refusing to believe it. I couldn’t come on my own either. My fingers weren’t enough to wring an orgasm from my body, even though I was the person who supposedly knew myself best.
What I really knew was that I couldn’t come like a normal woman. I was damaged, that much was painfully clear to me. And it didn’t make sense to keep pretending otherwise.
I tugged my panties back in place and slid over to the passenger seat. I leaned my head against the seat rest and stared out the window at the peeling paint of the Dumpster.
“Why did you let him fuck me?”
For endless minutes, I waited for an answer.
When it became clear I wouldn’t get one, I shifted in my seat but didn’t look at him. “I need to know, Cole. You were so jealous… I saw it in your eyes. And yet you let him fuck me. Why?”
The silence stretched on a while longer, and I was starting to think he’d refuse to talk about it.
Finally, he sighed. “What I’ve always wanted has been to give you more pleasure than you could handle. To make you so crazy with lust, you forget to think about Ben. Or about anything at all. To make your body helpless to do anything but come.” He paused and took another deep breath before plunging on. “I wanted to know… I needed to know if Erik could give you that.”
I flashed back to the orgasm I’d had while I was impaled on Erik’s cock. Heat suffused my body and flared in my cheeks.
This had been such a bad idea. I’d known it from the moment I’d first walked into the redecorated basement. I should have listened to my gut that day and sent Erik away. If I’d done that, I wouldn’t now have to live with the guilt gnawing at my insides. I wouldn’t have to look my husband in the eye and wonder if he was thinking about the way I’d quaked and splintered apart in another man’s arms.
“I think…” I hesitated, tried again. “I think we should call the whole thing off.”
Chapter Eight
Cole didn’t comment on my statement. Instead, he surprised me by insisting we keep our reservation, even though we were nearly half an hour late. So we made ourselves as presentable as we could in the tiny cabin of our car, then walked into the small Mexican restaurant and apologized profusely to the host.
“I saved your table, Mr. and Mrs. McMann. Chicago traffic’s a beast on Friday nights.”
Cole and I exchanged a brief look. I lowered my head to hide my smile and followed the man to a small table in the back. The place was packed on Fridays, as usual, but I liked the loud, boisterous atmosphere here and the food was always divine.
I ordered my usual chicken empanada and a glass of red wine. Our drinks arrived quickly, alongside a plate of nachos loaded with cheese, salsa and guacamole.
I’d already enjoyed half a dozen chips before realizing Cole wasn’t eating. I paused, nacho held halfway to my mouth, and tilted my head as I watched my husband studying me intently. His features were unreadable, reminding me of the way he’d looked at me in the basement a few days ago.
My appetite vanished in an instant, and I set the chip down on my plate. “What is it?”
“What did you mean when you said we should call the whole thing off? Erik? The training? Or us?”
My stomach roiled, rejecting the few bites I’d taken. “The training, of course. Did you actually think I meant…” I hesitated, but needed to be as clear as possible. “I don’t want a divorce.”
He released a deep breath, his relief evident. My heart broke a little more. How could he think I’d ever want to leave him?
“I’m glad. I thought maybe this whole thing with Erik…” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t blame you if my interest in BDSM frightened you.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips and lifted the glass of red wine. “There’s nothing about you that frightens me.” I took a sip, savoring the juicy sweet flavors of my favorite Merlot.
Cole reached for a nacho at last. “I haven’t told you, but I’ve been doing research for a few months now. Erik joined the hockey team last year, but it wasn’t until about six months ago that he told me what he does for a living.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How does that subject come up, anyway?” I lowered my voice, mimicking Erik’s deep timbre. “Hey, good game. By the way, I whip and spank women all day long, but don’t worry, they love every minute of it.”
My attempt at lightheartedness didn’t even earn me a smile. “Not exactly. We went out for drinks one Thursday after the game. You were out of town.”
I frowned, but Cole looked at me without apology. I didn’t sense deception but I had to know. “Did he take you to a sex club?”
At last, the corner of his mouth lifted in a teasing grin. “No. He took me to a sports bar. And it wasn’t just him. The entire team went.”
My lungs relaxed as I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “So you bonded over beer and peanuts.”
“Something like that. He opened up to me, and I found his stories intriguing. At first I thought he was putting me on. I couldn’t believe women paid him for his unique…services. So I went on the internet to figure it out for myself. You’d be amazed at all the stuff you can find on there.”
I gulped another mouthful of Merlot to hide my smile. I was the technical one in the family. Cole was a brilliant scientist, but he preferred books to computers. At least I’d never had to worry about walking in on him surfing porn.
Until now.
“I found the whole idea fascinating, Ginny.” He lowered his voice, though the chances of us being heard over the loud chatter, laughter and general boisterous noise in the restaurant was slim. “The thought that some women enjoyed being commanded sexually was so new to me. I started thinking about you, and wondering if you’d like some of those same things. So I hired Erik.”
I chose my words carefully. “It’s not working.”
He leaned back in his seat and opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again when the waiter approached with our entrees.
“Is everything to your liking?” the man asked, glancing at our half-eaten nachos.
“Great, thanks. We’re just not very hungry.”
The waiter gave a curt nod and set our plates down, then walked away.
I ignored the food and returned my attention to my husband. “I understand what you were trying to do. And I admit, I wanted to believe Erik had the ability to pull off the things he boasted about.”
“I think you’re wrong.” Cole pushed some of the beans around on his plate with a fork. “I think it’s working, and I think you’re scared.”
Weariness tightened around my heart. “You were with me in the car, honey.” I used the word deliberately, hurling it at him like an insult. “It’s not working.”
“Erik said it would take time.”
“Erik has no idea what he’s talking about.” I speared a piece of chicken with my fork and brought it to my lips. I usually loved the flavors of goat cheese and the slightly spicy sauce, but tonight I barely tasted them.
“I’ve gotten to know this man, Ginny. I trust him.” He set his fork down and focused all his attention on me. “When I said I did my research, I meant it. A few weeks ago, I went to the club where Erik works.”
I bristled at that but didn’t speak.
“I didn’t participate, but I asked questions. I met with some of his clients. You should have heard the way these women talked about him. Like he’d given them a treasure worth more than a briefcase with a million dollars. One of them said he’d given her life.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I thought of you that entire night. I wanted him to teach me how to give you life too.”
My chest constricted. I swallowed another bite of food, chased it down with more wine. “You denied me an orgasm when I asked for it.”
The accusation hung between us. Cole nodded, once. “That was part of the training. Erik told me that in order for this to work, denying release is just as important as allowing it.”
“Well, that makes Erik a bastard, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe it just makes him good at what he does. You came, didn’t you?” Cole leaned forward. “That was the first time I’ve seen you orgasm. Did you know that? The first time. Ever.”
Heat seared the column of my throat. I hadn’t told him about what happened on the piercing table, and right now, I didn’t intend to. “Be careful what you wish for, Cole. You might regret opening this particular Pandora’s box.”
“Regret it?” His eyebrows arched and he gave a short, startled laugh. “I’ve spent years wishing you’d open up to me. I’ve done everything you’d let me do, even though I knew it wasn’t enough. I can’t reach you through oral or the missionary position. I need more. You need more.”
His words stung, because they were true. I had let him tongue my pussy for hours, knowing I’d never come that way, but thinking it would make him happy because at least he could tell himself he’d tried.
“And you think I need another man.” My skin bristled, nerves aflame. What if he was right?
He tossed his napkin aside and stood. “I think you need to be honest with yourself, even if you won’t be honest with me. I trust Erik, Ginny. I’d hoped you’d trust me.”
He stormed off toward the bathroom and I watched him go, my gaze glued to his ass. My throat constricted.
“Ma’am? You’ve barely touched your food.”
I lifted my gaze to meet the waiter’s and shook my head. “Not now.” Something in my tone must have communicated better than my words, because the man backed away slowly, then turned and busied himself with another table.
I studied my nails and thought about what Cole had said. I’d enjoyed my sessions with Erik and Cole. Perhaps a little too much. And although I’d been reliving the physical sensations over and over in my mind, I hadn’t allowed myself to contemplate the emotional consequences of what we’d done.
Of what I’d done.
Or what it meant that I liked it so much. That I ached, with every fiber of my being, for a repeat encounter.
When Cole returned, I didn’t have any more answers than when he’d left, but I’d made a choice.
“All right.” I swallowed hard and ducked my head so I wouldn’t have to look at him. I feared he’d be able to see right through my words to the selfishness of my decision. “Let’s try again.”
Cole reached out and squeezed my hand. “You’re sure?”
“I am.” My stomach fluttered and my muscles tensed, already anticipating the next session. “But Cole?”
“Yes?”
I clenched my fingers around his. “This is the last time.”
Chapter Nine
Two days later, Erik returned. When he arrived, he was polite and friendly—and fully dressed for the first time since I’d met him, so I wasn’t sure Cole had passed along my message. I hadn’t been teasing when I told him I was only willing to do this once more.
I had to put a stop to these depraved encounters. I liked them too much. Cole had been right about one thing—my intense reaction to these sessions scared me to death.
Erik had asked Cole and me to wait in the kitchen while he brought a few things inside and made some modifications to the items already set up in our makeshift dungeon. When he called us down to the basement, I clenched my husband’s hand for support. Descending the steps seemed to take forever.
The stark light of the lone bulb shone brightly across the room and I shielded my eyes against the glare. I instantly missed the soft lighting of our last session. The bright beam illuminated ever
y instrument on the shelves, as well as a new toy Erik had brought into our home. The St. Andrew’s Cross had been relegated to the back wall, where it stood in the shadows, apparently having been supplanted by the giant metal tripod that now took up most of the basement.
The monstrosity’s three legs were at least two feet taller than I was. I could see individual joints in each leg, which led me to believe Erik had brought this piece inside in individual segments and assembled it in the basement.
I sucked in a breath and continued my silent assessment of this new dungeon centerpiece. Two chains descended from the top of the tripod’s legs, and from them, an aluminum bar had been suspended at my eye level. From each end of the bar hung leather braids with handcuffs dangling at the ends. Yet another chain dropped from the center of the bar, this one thicker and heavier looking than the others. A contraption that looked sort of like a giant catcher’s mitt swayed at the end of this chain. Even from where I stood in the door, I could tell the seat—or whatever it was—had been constructed out of leather mesh, and that some of the holes in the webbing were larger than others.
Erik looked entirely too pleased with himself as he leaned against a shelf and watched my reaction. I didn’t like the disappointment that coiled in my stomach when I realized he was still wearing all his clothes, which consisted of jeans and a tight long-sleeved t-shirt with the name of a local restaurant emblazoned on the front. I had really wanted to see him naked again.
“I would have liked to take my time with you. I had many things planned for you and Cole, but I’ve been told our schedule’s been moved up.”
I blundered my way through an apology we both knew I didn’t mean. I understood then that Cole had not only passed along my message, but Erik had taken it as a personal challenge.
I swallowed hard, wishing I had done some research of my own. I’d had two days to think about what was to come, but every time I considered probing the nether places of the internet to get my own dose of bondage education, I balked with my hand on the mouse.
