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Yellow Ribbons

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by Caitlyn Willows




  YELLOW RIBBONS

  Caitlyn Willows

  www.loose-id.com

  Yellow Ribbons

  Copyright © November Caitlyn Willows

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  eISBN –-

  Editor: Ann M. Curtis

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  Printed in the United States of America

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  PO Box

  San Francisco CA -

  www.loose-id.com

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  Chapter One

  The scent of fresh-washed male hit her the moment she opened the door leading from the garage to the kitchen. She waited there in the entrance for a word, an acknowledgment from him. All she heard was his slow-measured breathing and the tick-tick-tick of her car engine coming to rest after the ten-minute drive home. The house was dark save for the soft glow that came through the front windows from the neighboring houses. That light didn’t filter back here, though, not in the corner where she knew he lurked. The window over the kitchen sink faced northeast over her backyard and the sprawling desert view beyond. The Marine Corps base she’d left minutes before looked like a small city nestled against the low mountains. Prime real estate she’d rented for a song. Too bad the rest of the place wasn’t as isolated. Neighbors surrounded her on all sides. It made meeting him tricky.

  The game was in play. Why else wouldn’t he speak? She wondered if he was sitting in the kitchen chair nude, his cock erect, a big hand idly stroking it as he watched her. A shiver rippled over her skin, the hair rising on goose bumps. His silent presence churned her insides. He churned her insides. What seduction did he plan for tonight?

  Heartbeat racing, she closed and locked the door, then walked toward the living room. She felt more than heard him stand and follow. An instant later, his heat washed over her back. He was her secret, her passion, a growing addiction she couldn’t live without. The world could never know—he could never know—how much he meant to her.

  She tossed her duffel bag on the hallway floor to her left, then turned her head until she could glance over her shoulder. The light from outside cast dim shadows over them now, and she longed to turn completely and press against his hard body. He was no more than a foot behind her, his muscled arms braced on top of the door frame, all six feet of him looming over her. She noticed he hadn’t changed into civilian clothes at work. Or maybe he’d re-dressed into cammies once he arrived to help set the tone. The olive drab T-shirt clung to his chest, looking more like a second skin. The sharp angles begged for her fingers to explore him at her leisure. How many women drooled over him?

  Too many.

  Jealousy tightened her jaw. She knew he saw. The man noticed everything and used it to his advantage. Lani’s too.

  “You’re late.” His voice rumbled over her, tightened her nipples.

  “It was a long day. I didn’t get my run in at noon, so I hit the gym.”

  “I was worried.”

  Fingers traced up her spine, her neck, then crawled into her hair and loosened her ponytail. The pink scrunchie bounced off her chest on its tumble to the floor. Her breath hitched. Now she had some serious goose bumps.

  “You should have let me know.”

  “I didn’t know you would be here,” she said.

  “Now you’re lying. That will cost you.”

  He cradled her head, turning her his way as his other hand snaked around her waist. She felt naked compared to him, dressed only in a cotton spandex tank top and gym shorts. He clamped his hand over her ass and hauled her against him. His mouth claimed hers when she gasped at the feel of his erection stabbing her midriff. His hot tongue swept over hers, branding her his all over again, drowning out the world and making her heart thud hard enough to crack her ribs. He released her at a snail’s pace, rubbing his large palms over her ass and down her back, then back around to cup and thumb her nipples.

  “I’ve been waiting for a while. Everything you need is in place.”

  A smart-assed request for dinner died before she was stupid enough to utter it. Tonight wasn’t about teasing, it was about… It was about whatever he’d decided she required. If she was that hungry, she knew she could utter a simple word—her rank—and everything would come to a screeching halt. That was the last thing she wanted. He’d feed her, in his own good time, and she’d enjoy every bite.

  “I await your instruction,” she whispered.

  “Do you?” He tweaked her nipples, startling a gasp from her.

  “I do.” Her quivering thighs threatened to topple her. His hand on her elbow kept her upright.

  “To the couch.” He steered her in that direction, sat, and hauled her over his lap.

  She landed with a soft oomph and curled her fingers over the edge of the cushion beside him to keep them off her crotch.

  “It seems you’re a little anxious for this.” He tickled his fingers over her bare thighs. “I can smell your sweet pussy already. Heady, intoxicating, and waiting for pleasure. But”—he yanked her gym shorts to her knees—“you were late, I was worried, you didn’t call, and you lied. I think you need discipline more than orgasm, don’t you?”

  He was going to make her wait for it. Damn, she hated waiting. Her clit was so swollen Lani swore it’d burst into flames at any second.

  “Answer me.” He grabbed her thong and pulled up, wedging the cotton between her labia.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  He released the thong with a snap. “You like wearing this, don’t you? Like how it makes your firm ass flex against your gym shorts and drives the marines crazy with what they can’t have. Don’t you?” He grabbed her right cheek, kneading his fingers into the muscle.

  “I-I like the feel of cotton on my skin.”

  “Yes, and silk and satin too.” He tugged on the thong once more, making sure it was tucked high and tight in her crack.

  “My sneakers…”

  “Leave them on. You don’t get to curl your toes into the armrest tonight. This is discipline. Cross your ankles. No squirming your clit over my thigh.”

  He hadn’t said anything about her nipples. She rubbed the hard points into the cushion. Fingers curled over her hip, adjusting her to the angle he wanted. He gave her a test smack, then another and another, warming her ass for the volley to come. She could hardly stand it. He could call it discipline all he wanted; they both knew better. Still, the first hard pop took her breath away. He fol
lowed it with another and another, his palm raining spanks over every piece of exposed skin until she thought he’d set her on fire.

  He meant business tonight. Her ass was going to feel deliciously hot for hours. But God, she needed the emotional release he was giving her.

  “Oh, please,” she begged. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” She clenched her buttocks against a new assault.

  “Another lie?” More smacks. “You do this too much, with no regard for my feelings and concerns. I’ve had enough. If I have to blister your bottom morning and night to get you to understand, I will.”

  He played the game well. At times like this, she was hard-pressed to know if he was really upset or in the scene. Trust always nudged away that niggle of doubt. Anticipation of his next unpredictable move raced her blood.

  “Oh God, please.” She scrambled for freedom. His hand wedged her in place. A tug on her thong arched her back. “Oh God!”

  “Who’s in charge, sweetheart?” He raked the slip of cotton along her crack.

  “You are.” She rasped her nipples into the cushion. “You are.”

  “Who decides how long to spank, when you get to come, where and how long you get fucked?”

  “You do. You do.” Her clit ached. Her ass burned. “Oh, please…please let me come.”

  “Cross your ankles. Your lapse has ruined all my good work. We’re going to have to start from scratch.”

  “No no no.” She wiggled her hip over his erection.

  He tensed, his nails digging into her backside. “That’s going to cost you, sweetheart.” He swung her around until her knees kissed the floor and her thighs were locked between his, her ass his for the taking. She still faced the cushion, still had the pleasure of being able to rasp her nipples over it, but this time, it wasn’t enough to appease the ache inside.

  Her groans and pleas drowned out the sound of his hand burning her ass. She beat her fists into the cushion, her feet into the carpeted floor. He showed no mercy. How could he when she’d yet to give him the magic word to make it all stop?

  Without warning, the sobs came. They shook her chest, yanking tears with them. She collapsed, limp with the emotion he’d pulled from her, and let herself have the good cry she’d so desperately needed while he spanked her through it.

  Smacks turned to caresses. “There now,” he cooed. “There. Let it go, sweets. Let it all go. I’ve got you.” He rubbed her ass, her thighs, her back, then drew her into his arms and cradled her against his chest.

  “It’s just been a horrible day,” she cried.

  “I know. I know. Shhh.” Kisses peppered her temple. He combed her hair away from her face.

  She clung to him, her lifeline, and cried it out. A box of tissue appeared, earning him a little laugh. “You think of everything.” She plucked a handful from the box.

  “I try.”

  While she wiped her tears and blew her nose, he untied her sneakers and pulled them and her socks off. She flexed her toes and eased her legs free of the gym shorts when he slid them down. Fingers drifted up her thighs, urging them apart. He cupped her pussy, rubbing circles over her clit. She opened wider, and he hooked his thumb in the thong crotch and tugged the flimsy strap of cotton down, down, down until he could lift her knee and draw it through the leg. Then his hand was back where it belonged, combing through her coarse curls, spreading her pussy lips, diving deep into her heat.

  She lifted her pelvis into his touch, fighting the urge to clamp her thighs tight and ride his hand. Her pleasure was at his command, his discretion. She trusted him to take care of her. He always did.

  Fingers pumping with slow precision, he traced his thumb through her folds, over her clit, toying her orgasm to the surface, making it hover on the edge, dragging out the moment. Then, with a decided flick over the hard flesh, he made her come.

  Sweet release swept over her, leaving her lax and spent in his arms again. His cock throbbed against her hip and with it the promise of things he’d yet to do to her. Otherwise, he’d already be pounding away inside her. He’d stay tonight, curled around her until the hint of dawn dragged him away from her bed.

  “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” She nuzzled her cheek against his chest.

  He scooped his arms under her knees and shoulders. “I don’t plan on letting you out of my life anytime soon.”

  Normally, thinking of the ramifications of his words scared the hell out of her. Tonight she didn’t care. This was their time. It would end soon enough whether she worried about it or not.

  Holding her against him, he stood and bore her effortlessly toward her bed. The door to her room was shut. He nudged it open with his shoulder, and soft lighting poured over them. He’d set the stage well—bedside lamps on, the covers peeled down to puddle on the floor, white rappelling rope tied to the four corners of her bed, a black satin mask dead center on the white sheet. Any other toys he planned to employ were hidden under a length of black velvet on her dresser to better enhance her experience.

  He placed her on the edge of the mattress, then grabbed the edge of her tank top and pulled it over her head. Unfettered from the spandex, her breasts chilled. He palmed them both, pinching and tugging her nipples until they elongated. Breath held, she waited for his lips. It didn’t happen. Instead, he stepped away, his gaze locked with hers, and stripped his cammies down those long, muscled legs. Her eyes were drawn downward, past the dusting of black hair that thickened around his navel and toward the beautiful cock that sprang free. She’d never seen one so big, so…talented. The things he could do, the places he could stuff it.

  A shiver rattled through her. Thank goodness he wasn’t smart-assed enough to ask if she was cold. He knew the effect he had on her and vice versa.

  She glanced up and felt powerful when she saw the fire glowing in his brown eyes. He straddled her knees, grasped his erection in one hand, and painted the precum over her breasts. She licked her lips, longing for a taste. A muffled groan let her know the movement had chiseled at his resolve, but he remained focused on his own goal. He pressed her down, reaching for the mask as he did so. Then, after combing her long hair away from her face, he slipped the satin into place over her eyes. Her nerve endings came alive, hyperaware and ready for anything.

  There was no need for orders. She knew what he wanted next. With his hand guiding her shoulder, she crawled backward until he’d centered her on the queen bed, then she spread her arms and legs for him. She lay there, alert to his subtle movement around the bed and the whisper of sound that accompanied it. Then he sat astride her hips and leaned toward her arms to wrap her wrists in cool satin bands. Though the rope was soft, the satin would help protect her skin against chafing. One by one, he wrapped it around and around her wrists, not too loose, not too tight. Perfect, as he was. Once he had her arms tied to the bed, he raised her hips onto pillows and then secured her ankles with the same care.

  Silence now, except for ragged breaths—his and hers. More movement. More rustling. The soft clatter of his web belt buckle. She jumped when he snapped it. Jumped again when she felt the cotton canvas slither up her thigh. He dangled the tip over her pussy, then draped the belt up her torso until the metal buckle lay between her breasts. Something ice-cold circled her areola, stealing her breath. Metal? Ice? Glass? She braced herself for clamps and instead felt him lay another heavier object over her navel. He removed it just as quickly and speared his hot tongue into the well.

  She groaned and arched into her bonds, scattering his handiwork. He growled, dug his fingers into her breasts, sucked her nipples until she writhed beneath his hard body, then dived for her pussy and found her clit. He sucked her to the edge of climax, fingers thrusting deep and hard. He drew away before she could come, and she nearly cried out when she felt him leave the bed.

  Paper tore close to her ear. Her breath caught. A condom packet. With the exception of anal sex, they’d stopped using them once they’d agreed they were exclusive. Clearly she wasn’t positioned for
that. He’d opened one now to set the mood, to let her know he was coming for her. She envisioned him rolling the condom into place, his eyes feasting on her while he did so.

  A soft buzz cut through the blood roaring in her ears. Her mind raced with possibilities. The mattress dipped. She felt forearms braced on either side of her head, and fingers traced the edges of the mask and her hairline. She smelled herself on his lips and parted hers. He took his time kissing her, sucking her lips gently, teasing his tongue over her mouth, then delving deeper. The buzzing was muffled now, and she could feel a vibration tickle between her thighs. That’s when she realized he was wearing a clitoral stimulator.

  She heard him pull in a hard breath through his nose, then he plunged into her pussy and wedged the ring home. He froze, his jaw tight against hers. She writhed her pelvis against his, more or less oblivious to anything other than how great he felt, how close she was to coming.

  He jerked his head up, breaking the kiss, and let loose. Fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place while he took command. She longed to see the determination on his face, that fierce grimace when he came. Pleasure rolled through her. He tensed, released a raw groan, and shot hard into her. She slumped into the mattress, longing to wrap her hands around him when his weight pressed her down. Panting for breath, he braced himself on his forearms and kissed her.

  A telephone ring shattered their bliss. His cell or hers? The generic ring tone made it difficult to tell, though from the close proximity, it was probably his.

  He kissed her again, building them up for another round while the phone kicked over to voice mail. But the caller wouldn’t be denied. Another muffled ring followed—her phone this time. Then the tweedle of a text message on his, then hers, then yet another ring.

  Muttering curses that made him a proud marine, he left the bed. She listened to the rustle of clothing. Another curse she couldn’t decipher. The bed dipped with his weight next to her.

 

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