by Lane Hart
“He’s just being nice,” Sam scoffs, unable to accept the compliment like usual.
“No, he wasn’t. He was impressed, and so was the freaking Attorney General! That’s huge, Sam. It’s incredible! You are incredible.”
“Thanks,” she replies shyly. “I was just hoping to finally set things right.”
“I know. Even though none of this was your fault or your responsibility, I appreciate you trying to help. I had pretty much given up.”
“That’s another reason why Ben and I did it without telling you, because we thought you would say not to waste our time.”
“Hold on,” I say, straightening when the realization hits me. “Is that what you’ve been working on the last few weeks on your laptop?”
“Maybe,” she answers with a shrug, continuing with the laundry as if it’s not a big deal.
“I thought you had a bunch of papers due for your classes.”
“Oh, I did,” Sam replies. “But when I had any free time, I worked on the motion.”
“Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love you even more, you go and prove me wrong,” I tell her. Unable to resist, I go to her; and gripping her hips, being careful not to touch her skin, I pull her to me and kiss her lips.
When Sam doesn’t pull away, I deepen the kiss; because more than words, I want to show her how much I love her and appreciate her. It’s frustrating that I can’t do that, not because she refuses to be intimate with me, but because someone else broke her when he took from her what wasn’t his and that she didn’t freely give.
I’m not surprised when after a few more wonderful minutes, Sam’s palms push against my chest to stop the kiss. What I wasn’t prepared for were her next words.
“I want you.”
“I want you too. Always,” I assure her.
“No, I mean, I want you, right now. I’m just…worried that I might not be able to go through with it, that I’ll freak out, and then we’ll have to stop…”
“Then we won’t even try –” I tell her.
“I want to try!” she exclaims. “But I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Honestly, baby, I’m scared I’ll do something that will hurt you, and then I’ll hate myself for it,” I explain, hoping she understands.
“Please?” she asks softly. “Can we just try?”
I start to say no, despite how much I want to be with her, but then I have an idea that may help both of us if Sam will agree.
“How would you feel about tying me up?” I ask her.
“What?”
“Just my hands, so that you’re completely in control of everything that happens, every touch…”
“Okay,” she quickly agrees. “That may actually help, if you’re okay with it?”
“Of course I’m okay with it. I would let you do anything to me,” I tell her. “I’ll be right back.”
Going down to the spare room Hunter vacated but we never bought another bed for, I pull two of my ties out of the closet and take them back to Samantha’s room.
“Here,” I say when I offer them to her. “You can tie my wrists to the posts as securely as you want.”
“Right,” she agrees as she takes the silky material and runs it through her hands. “First, though, you need to get undressed.”
…
Sam
Why didn’t we think of this sooner? is what I’m asking myself when Grant grabs the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing his broad muscular chest and abs. God, I missed the sight of him this way.
Unzipping his jeans, Grant toes off his shoes and then shoves the material down his legs, taking off his socks as he goes. Seeing him standing before me in nothing but white boxer briefs is so damn hot that my skin begins to warm.
“Boxers too?” he asks, and I shake my head. Not because I don’t want to see all of him but because it’s nearly overwhelming taking him in as it is.
“You can, um, you can get on the bed,” I instruct, because my mouth is watering with the thought of touching him and kissing his warm skin.
“Are you sure about this, Sam?” Grant asks as he climbs on the mattress and sits back on his knees in the center.
“Yes,” I answer. For weeks, I’ve tried to gather enough courage to initiate…more, but I always chickened out. Not because I didn’t want to be with Grant, but because I was scared of what might happen once we got to this point. It just didn’t seem fair to him if I teased him, got him worked up and then had to slam on the brakes.
And while that could still very well happen, I feel more confident that I’ll be the one who decides everything, without having to worry about Grant touching me a certain way that sends me into a flashback of the one night of my life I’ve been trying to forget for nearly a year. Well, I do want to remember some parts of that night, like when Grant and I were together.
“Lie back so I can fix your wrists,” I tell him as I walk around the left side of the bed. Grant’s so tall with such a massive wingspan that I’ll be able to restrain his wrists to the two corner bedposts without it being too uncomfortable. The memory of how my hands and arms were completely numb when I woke up after that god-awful night tries to resurface. Shutting my eyes tight, I shove those thoughts back down, afraid that once I start thinking about details, more will come pouring out, drowning any chance we have of an almost normal night together.
“Sam,” Grant grumbles in that way that tells me he’s about to throw this whole experiment out the window. So, I do the one thing I can that will make him shut up and not coddle me. I climb on the bed and straddle his waist to lean down and cover his mouth with mine.
Grant’s fingers comb through my hair a second before he drops them, afraid of my reaction. He shouldn’t be. His touch was so gentle and sweet that I could never think of anyone but him. But now that his arms are stretched out along the headboard again, I take the opportunity to reach up and wind one of the ties around his wrist and then the bedpost, securing it in place. After that one’s taken care of, I crawl over Grant and do the same to his other wrist.
Once I’m done, I climb back on top of him to admire the sight before me, a gorgeous man, tied to my bed and at my mercy.
“You’re smiling like you’re enjoying this,” Grant says from below me, his glasses slightly askew.
“I think I am,” I tell him as I straighten the dark frames.
“If I had known we would be doing this, I would have put my contacts in,” he tells me.
“I think the glasses are sexy,” I say before slanting my lips over his. When I lower my body down on Grant’s, his bulging erection rubs against the crotch of my thin pajama shorts. A moan escapes from my mouth, allowing Grant’s tongue to delve inside. Feeling him where I’m so sensitive and needy is amazing, making me even more desperate for more.
Needing to be even closer, I lift my tank top over my head, revealing my bare breasts, and then shimmy my shorts and panties down my legs.
“Fuck yes. So goddamn gorgeous,” Grant groans, the veins and muscles in his arms straining against the restraints, hopefully not because they’re uncomfortable, but because he wants to touch me. “Now be a good girl and come sit on my face.”
“Hey, I thought I was in charge!” I reply indignantly.
“So, you don’t want me to lick your pussy?” he asks with his dark eyebrow raised skeptically.
“I didn’t say that,” I mutter since I do want his mouth on me.
“Then sit on my face already!” he huffs, making me laugh. But I do as he asked, scooting up the bed until I’m holding onto the headboard while straddling Grant’s face.
“Lower,” he says while placing kisses on my inner thigh that make my heart race even more.
I ease my hips down until… “Oh, God!” Grant’s tongue is fucking magical. It’s been so long that I had forgotten how damn good he is at oral. He quickly reminds me by lashing the tip of his tongue against my clit. Each wonderful touch is taking me that much closer to an ecstasy I thou
ght I had only imagined from our short time together months ago.
No longer in control of my own body, and losing all modesty, I surrender to the desire and ride out the pleasure from his mouth, all the way to an earth-shattering orgasm. I can’t help but cry out as my body quakes and convulses wildly.
Once I float back down to the bedroom, my first thought is again, why did we wait so long to do this?
“You okay up there?” Grant asks.
“Uh-huh,” I answer as I use my grip on the headboard to support my now boneless limbs. “Just give me a second.”
“Take all the time you need, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he replies, reminding me that he can’t move until I untie him.
Of course, I know I could go ahead and release his wrists from the restraints, but I’m not ready for this to be over yet.
Finally recovering from the best orgasm ever, I slide back down Grant’s body and hold his face between my hands to kiss him. His hips lift off the mattress seeking contact and friction from my lower body, so I give it to him.
“Want me to take your boxers off?” I ask against his lips.
“God, yes,” he groans.
Moving further down his body, I kiss his neck and chest as I go, spending more time with my mouth above his navel because I know it’ll drive him crazy and make him squirm. Sure enough, moments later he moans the word “please.”
Finally, I sit back on his knees and reach for the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Tugging them down, I release his thick length that’s so swollen it’s leaking. My mouth waters for a taste. While I don’t have much experience with this particular activity, I do remember that Grant liked my mouth on him, a lot. It was one of the few times he would lose control with me.
Fisting the base of his shaft, I lower my head and lightly lick just the beads of liquid on the tip.
“Ohhh fuck,” Grant groans while his hips buck off of the bed, trying to get closer to my mouth. I take pity on him and open wide to take his cock deeper. On each upstroke, I apply enough suction to make him chant my name.
“Can’t take much more of that, baby,” he warns me through clenched teeth. “Need you.”
Remembering I’m not on birth control and don’t have any sort of protection, I ask, “Do you, ah, do you have any…condoms?”
“Hell yes,” Grant answers right away. “Just to be prepared,” he adds quickly. “There’s one in my wallet.”
Crawling off him, I grab his pants from the floor and pull out the leather wallet. “How long have you had this in here?” I ask curiously as I pull the gold foil wrapper out.
“A few weeks,” he answers, chewing on his bottom lip when I look up at him.
Does he think I would be mad at him for wanting to sleep with me? Because I’m not. I’m disappointed in myself because it’s taken us this long to get to this point again.
“Sam, I –” he starts, but I straddle his waist again and then slap a palm over his mouth to stop him.
“Don’t. I’m not angry. I’m just sorry we didn’t do this sooner,” I tell him truthfully. “Like ten or eleven months ago.”
Removing my hand, I sit back on my knees and tear open the condom. Having never put one on a man, it takes me a moment to carefully roll it down Grant’s cock, causing him to grunt and writhe the entire time.
When I’m done, I go up on my knees to finally guide his length to my entrance before slowly sinking down on his hard shaft.
“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so hot and tight. Perfect,” Grant says between pants, straining against the ties again. I plant my palms on his chest, but his skin is so smooth and warm that I can’t help but caress it.
Words escape me thanks to the incredible way he fills every empty, aching inch of me. I missed this closeness with him. So many times I even wondered if we would ever be together again after everything that happened.
Emotions overwhelm me, causing tears to roll down my cheeks.
“Oh, baby. You can stop. We don’t have to do this,” Grant says, his handsome face pinched in pain, mistaking my happiness for sadness.
“I just missed you,” I tell him, leaning forward and covering his mouth with mine to show him how much.
“I love you,” he says when I pull away.
“I love you too,” I reply as I begin to move my hips, making love to the man I adore more than anything.
We may still have problems and ordeals to overcome, but I believe Grant when he says that he’s here to stay. And that makes all the pain and suffering we’ve endured worth it.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Grant
“Are you nervous?” Sam asks while we wait in the Attorney General’s conference room for the man himself.
“No,” I tell her honestly, squeezing her hand that’s intertwined with mine. “All he can give us is good news. All the bad is over.”
The last few weeks have proved to me more than ever just how strong and brave Samantha is. Despite being victimized in the worst possible way, she loved me enough to try to be intimate with me. Not only did she try, over the weekend Sam tied me up and had her way with me each day and twice on Sunday.
While I’ve never been in the submissive position before, I have to say that I love it. Not knowing what Sam plans to do or how she’ll do it is exciting and sexy. I like seeing her take control, and finding our pleasure together is just as hot as before. And sure, I wish I could touch her, but I think that as determined as she is, we’ll get to that point soon. If prison taught me anything, it’s patience. For Sam, I’ll be patient for an eternity, if that's what it takes.
“Miss Elliott, Dr. Matthews, thanks for coming in,” Attorney General Mark Allen says when he breezes into the room in a dark suit. Sam and I both stand up from our seats to shake his hand.
“It’s actually Dr. and Mrs. Matthews now,” I correct him with a smile when he grips my palm.
“My apologies and congratulations,” he offers sincerely.
“Thank you,” Samantha tells him when they shake hands.
Folding himself into the seat across the long table from us while we retake ours, Attorney General Allen says, “So, the reason I invited you here today is because I wanted to provide you with an update on your case, and I thought you deserved that face to face.”
“I appreciate that sir,” I tell him.
“Our office has taken over Hunter Bradshaw’s case to avoid any conflicts of interest with the Rockford District Attorney’s office following the recent suspension and arrest of several local law enforcement officers in their district. He won’t be given bail pending trial; and if he accepts the plea we’re offering, which I suspect he will, he’ll receive ten years active.”
“Good,” I grumble. “Now what about my case?” I ask him curiously.
“I’ve granted your MAR, not merely on the facts as stated in the filing, which was very strong, but mainly because I’ve deemed that the DA’s office also has a conflict handling it as well given the recent developments.”
“So what exactly does that mean?” I ask, glancing over at Samantha and giving her hand a supportive squeeze, proud of her for having the courage to come forward with the truth and hand over Hunter’s video.
“That means that your case has now been reopened and assigned to Herbert Walters, one of my Assistant AGs. Your guilty plea has been set aside, and it’s my advice to recommend to Herbert that you be granted a new trial, or, based on his analysis of the case, simply dismiss the charges completely.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I say. “And excuse me if I sound…ungrateful, but what good will this do me now? I’ve already served my time in prison.”
“Yes, you have,” he replies with a nod. “And while that is unfortunate, this is a chance for you to be removed from the sex offender registry, to eradicate the felony conviction from your record, the removal of both of which I believe will be of great benefit to you in your future endeavors.”
“Wow,” I mutter in surprise, glancing over a
t Sam whose jaw is hanging open before she breaks out into a smile.
“What about his physical therapist license?” Sam asks before I’m able to.
“That decision is out of our control; but if the case is overturned, then I would say Dr. Matthews will have a much more likely chance of reinstatement by the Board of Physical Therapy Examiners.”
“This is great,” Sam says in relief. “I’m just sorry I waited so long…”
“Baby, don’t be,” I tell her.
“I agree,” Attorney General Allen says. “You didn’t have the video evidence until recently, correct?” he asks, and Sam silently nods. “And even if you had it a year ago while Dr. Matthews case was pending, it would’ve taken months to all get sorted out, during which time he would’ve remained in lockup under a very high, secured bond.”
“So, what you’re saying is that nothing could’ve kept me out of this mess, well, other than not seeing Samantha?” I ask him for clarification to try and alleviate any doubt Samantha may still have, wrongly blaming herself.
“Correct,” he answers. “The criminal justice process is just not one that moves as quickly and efficiently as we would all like it to.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “We still greatly appreciate your help now, sorting it all out.”
“Just doing my job,” he says with a friendly smile. “It’s your attorney who deserves the thanks and praise."
“That would be Samantha,” I tell him honestly. “The MAR was her hard work, and my friend, Benjamin Walsh, was kind enough to assist with editing and filing as needed.”
“Really?” Attorney General Allen says with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, sir,” Sam replies. “Mostly I just found sample MARs and used them as a go-by.”
“There was some great legal research involved as well,” he tells her. “You did a fine job. Are you pre-law?”
“Actually, I am,” she answers with a shy smile.
“You are?” I ask since, when I was released, Sam told me she was still undecided on her major.
