Heartless

by R. C. Martin

  After she hands me the satin cords, I instruct her to lay down on her back. She’s quick to follow my lead, and her readiness only makes me adore her more.

  “Hold your wrists together so that your elbows are touching.”

  “Like this?” she asks meekly.

  “Yes. Just like that.” Taking one of the long pieces of rope, I start to walk through the motions of a tie I’ve previously seen executed. I go slowly, wanting to make sure I get it right, and she watches me patiently.

  “Michael?” she whispers.

  “Hmm?”

  “Have you—have you ever done this before?”

  “No. I’ve wanted to, but I’ve never had the opportunity. You?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, her gaze still trained at her wrists as I continue to bind her.

  When I’m finished, I take the end and string it through one of the links on her headboard, causing her to stretch her arms over her head. It doesn’t escape me how the pace of her breathing has increased. I study her for a moment, trying to get a read on her before I continue.

  “If ever you feel uncomfortable—”

  “I’m not,” she interrupts insistently, shaking her head once more. “Baby, I’m so wet. Hurry.”

  I clench my jaw, fighting a growl as I pick up the second navy cord. Quickly, I wrap it around her left ankle before attaching the other end of the rope to the far side of her footboard. She bends her right knee, planting her foot on the bed, leaving her pussy on full display, her eyes pleading with me to bring her the relief she so obviously yearns for. Seeing her so worked up only heightens my already amped up state of arousal, and I wonder how I’ll be able to control myself.

  My nostrils flare as I draw in a slow, deep breath, remembering that with Blaine—I don’t have to keep myself under control. Nevertheless, I intend to enjoy every single second. This is a first for both of us. It’s not lost on me, the significance of being able to share something so intimate with her.

  Standing at the end of the bed, I remove my clothing—keeping my eyes trained on her the entire time. Watching her squirm as I reveal my nakedness gives me a high I can’t explain. Once completely bared to her, I give my cock a squeeze and a stroke, needing the touch. She moans pathetically, pulling at the ropes that bind her wrists, and I know already that tonight will be a night neither one of us ever forgets.

  Kneeling on the foot of her mattress, I skim a hand along her left leg. She sighs, as if that one simple touch brings her pleasure, and I wonder how far I can push her—how high I can take her.

  I lean over, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. A long groan spills from her lips as I drag my tongue from her knee, all the way to the crease of her hip. She tastes sensational, and I can feel the pre-cum gather at the head of my dick as I tease us both. When at long last I flatten my tongue over her entrance, I feel it as her whole body convulses, fighting against her constraints. Using her right leg, she tries to lift her hips, seeking more. I chuckle mischievously, pulling my mouth away as I look up at her.

  “Michael—Michael, please!”

  Teasing her, I keep my gaze trained on hers, licking the opposite crease of her hip, taking hold of her right leg behind her knee. I push her thigh back, leaving her completely at my mercy, and she whimpers.

  Lifting my head, I mutter, “You get what I give you when I give it to you. Understand?”

  Her eyelids droop down low, her eyes hooded in lust as she breathes, “Yes, sir.”

  This time, I don’t silence the growl that reverberates through my chest. I free it as I bury my face between Blaine’s legs, devouring her with as much greed as I feel. The sounds she makes as I plunge my tongue in and out of her send a zing up my spine as my dick grows harder, still. Knowing that she’s completely at my mercy—that she cannot touch, but only feel—it’s a heady feeling. It’s better than I imagined it would be, and we’ve barely just begun.

  “Michael! Shit!” she yells, holding nothing back.

  I suck on her clit, flicking the sensitive nub with my tongue, and she begins to shake with her cries. I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I want more of her. I’m thirsty for it—and I need her to come.

  “Oh, god—oh, god. Baby!”

  She comes on a scream, her pussy pulsing as she floods my mouth with more of her arousal. She’s shaking so hard, I have to tighten my hold of her leg as I lap up the evidence of her orgasm. Once I’ve had my fill and she begins to relax, I proceed to kiss my way over her belly and toward her breasts.

  “Fuck, I want to touch you so badly!” she whines as I suck on her nipple.

  I grin against her tit, letting go of her knee and giving her the freedom of one leg. She doesn’t hesitate before she wraps it around my waist, desperately expressing her desire for touch. By the time I’m done with her other breast, her back is arched and she’s panting.

  Licking my lips, I move further up her body, propping myself up above her. Our gazes collide, and the fire I see in her eyes stokes the fire within me. I dip my head to tease her lips with the tip of my tongue, and she flicks hers out with a whine.

  “Please, Michael,” she begs, her voice so soft I can hardly make out her plea.

  “Please what, angel?”

  Shaking her head, she says, “Kiss me. Fuck me. Something! I need you.”

  “You need this?” I grumble, grinding my hard length over her clit.

  “You know that I do.”

  I touch my lips to hers in a feather light kiss before lifting myself off of her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reach into her nightstand for the stash of condoms I know she keeps there. After ripping open a package and sheathing my shaft, I glance back at her from over my shoulder. She looks so vulnerable. So wanton. So unbelievably gorgeous. Sure that I’ve denied us both for long enough, I position myself between her legs once more and submerge myself in her wet heat. Once I’m planted as deep as I can go, I pause, bringing my mouth to hers—needing her to know—

  “You’re so much more—so much more than I could have ever imagined.”

  Blaine

  I’M SO RELIEVED to have him filling me, I don’t bother whining when he doesn’t move. Rather, I tug against my restraints, unable to help myself, and try lifting my head enough to steal the kiss that belongs to me. I moan my delight when our lips connect and he doesn’t pull away. No—he consumes me, kissing me wild and hungry, making me crazy.

  Crazy never felt so fucking good.

  His groan mingles with my moan when he severs our lips and begins to move his hips. My eyes roam over every piece of him that I can see—every part of him I’m longing to touch and taste. The muscles in his arms bulge under his weight as he props himself above me, and his chest heaves as he plunges in and out of me with fierce determination. The veins in his neck pop out from exertion—and the look in his eyes, his deep blue eyes, it’s so full of fervent passion, it’s like watching a fire blaze across the surface of the ocean.

  Never has anyone looked at me with so much yearning. It almost makes me want to cry—

  But then I feel it…

  I feel the budding of another orgasm as he continues to take me, and I surrender to it. I surrender to Michael. His power, his dominance, his control. It’s breathtaking. I yank my hands again, the rope just as unyielding as it was a moment ago, but my desperation much stronger. The warmth that spreads from my core as my orgasm starts to bloom makes me freaking unstable. My hands start to tremble, then my arms—my legs—and as he drives into me harder, I’m shaking uncontrollably, unable to hear anything but the ear piercing scream that fills the rafters above us as I come.

  And I come hard.

  Everything grows muffled as my body milks Michael’s dick of his own release. The sound of his roar seems far away, even with him being so close. It isn’t until a few seconds later, when he gives me all of his weight, that my ears begin to lose that plugged up sensation. I relish in the sound of his heavy breaths and the feel of his sweaty body plastere
d on top of mine. He only stays but a moment, and then I lose him from inside of me as he begins to untie the rope from my ankle. When he loosens the knot around the headboard, I don’t even give him the chance to release my wrists before I attack him.

  I loop my arms around his neck and pull him on top of me before rolling us until he’s on his back. His hands hold my waist, keeping me steady as I straddle him, but I’m not worried about my balance. My lips are everywhere—his face, his neck, his shoulders, his hairy chest. After I’ve kissed every inch of him that I can reach in this position, I fill his mouth with my tongue and kiss him until my lips are swollen and I can no longer manage a breath.

  Forced to stop for the sake of my lungs, I press my forehead against his, panting as I murmur, “That was—that was—god, that was—”

  “The best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he says, finishing my sentence for me.

  I lift my head, only enough to look him right in his perfect blue eyes as I whisper in awe, “You felt it, too?”

  “Yeah, angel,” he mutters. Sliding a hand up the length of my spine, he gently grips the back of my neck as he draws me closer—right where he wants me. Before he touches his lips to mine, he grunts, “I felt it, too.”

  He kisses me tenderly, almost as if he’s thanking me, and then rolls us over, putting me on my back.

  “Let me untie you,” he says with a smirk at the sight of my slight frown.

  He dips his head from between my arms as I lift them, and then he frees my wrists. Even though the rope is soft, there are still red marks on my skin from being bound. I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile. I know they’ll be gone in a few minutes, but I like wearing the evidence of what we just shared for a little while longer.

  When Michael starts to climb out of bed, I’m quick to stop him, grabbing at his arm and giving him a tug. “Don’t go,” I insist. I can’t explain why, but the thought of him leaving me alone in this bed for even a minute—it makes me feel vulnerable and disappointed.

  “Blaine, I’ll be right back. I need to—”

  I don’t give him a chance to finish, my eyes darting down to his soft dick. Without even a hint of hesitation, I reach for the condom, slipping it off of him before tying it in a knot and dropping it on the floor.

  “We’ll toss it later. Please—please don’t go.”

  He studies me for a second, the expression on his face something akin to concern. The next thing I know, I’m stretched out on the bed, half of my body draped over his as he holds me. I relax against his chest, sure that this is what I need right now. After being so restricted and unable to touch him, I’m not ready for him to be out of reach. As I graze my fingers through the fine hairs on his chest, I realize that him being out of reach isn’t just something that worries me in this very moment. It goes deeper than that.

  My feelings for him go way deeper than that.

  Maybe it’s stupid and naïve, but I’m here. I’m the other woman who is falling for a married man. From the very beginning, we’ve both been in this for more than just sex. There’s so much about him that I admire; and the more I learn, the more I appreciate the man that he is. Despite our age difference, he’s easy and interesting to talk to. He makes me laugh, and he’s fun to be around. The sex—the sex just makes the prospect of losing him that much scarier.

  Snuggling closer, I find the courage to ask, “Michael? What’s Veronica like?”

  I sense it when his body flinches in surprise, but I wait patiently for an answer anyway.

  “Why are you asking me that?” he inquires, his voice low and guarded.

  I lose what little bit of confidence I have at the sound of his tone. Then he tightens his arms around me and presses a kiss on top of my head before he murmurs, “Blaine?”

  Sealing my eyes closed tight, I brace myself for his response as I admit, “I’m scared, okay? I’m scared of what we’re doing. I’m scared of how quickly you’ve become important to me. I don’t want to be blindsided if you decide not to choose me. I just—I’m up against your wife, and that’s a lot to live up to. I want to know what she’s like. Why you’re here—why you think you need to be here. One day, you might not need whatever I give you that she doesn’t, and I just…”

  My voice trails off when I become fully cognizant of all that I’ve blurted out. I didn’t really know that I was hanging onto all of that so closely. Of course, I’ve always known that his wife was what Simone would call a variable that we’re up against, but I didn’t know how much it worried me until just now. Maybe it was the mind blowing sex. Maybe it was his home cooked dinner. Maybe it’s just him and the way he makes me feel simply by holding me. Whatever it is, my feelings are out there now.

  When he remains silent, I decide I’ve already made a big enough mess, and I might as well finish it. I fold my arms across his chest and prop myself up until I’m staring down at him. “We have enough lies surrounding us,” I whisper. “I don’t want us to lie to each other. I want us to be honest about where this is going. I…” Shifting my gaze down my cheeks, I murmur, “I’m not ready to lose you.”

  The silence that stretches on between us feels heavy, and I’m worried that I’ve ruined our whole night with my big mouth. Then he reaches up and buries his fingers in my hair, tugging on the strands gently until my gaze is locked with his.

  “A house full of open doors,” he breathes—his voice softer than a whisper.

  I shake my head, not understanding what he’s saying. “What?”

  A squeak bursts out of me as he rolls himself on top of me, making room from himself between my legs. I hook my calves over the back of his thighs as he rests on his elbows, situated on either side of my head. Tenderly, he traces his fingertips along my hairline, sweetly sweeping a few strands out of my face.

  “You are extraordinary.”

  “Michael…”

  “It’s not about what she lacks. It’s not about what you give me versus what she gives me. I wasn’t looking for you. I wasn’t trying to fill some sort of void—that’s not who you are to me. You came out of nowhere. Blaine,” he pauses, furrows his brow in frustration, and then goes on to say, “Veronica is not your competition. I know that it probably feels that way, and that’s my fault. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to walk away from twenty years. I don’t have any good answers. I know that’s not fair, but—”

  “Nothing’s fair,” I declare, sliding my hands up his chest and around his shoulders. I hold on tight as I repeat, “Nothing’s fair, Michael. It’s not fair for you to be here with me behind her back. It’s not fair that in a little while, I’ll have to say goodbye to you so you can go sleep in her bed. And I know—I know it’s not fair for me to ask you to make a choice right now. None of it is fair. I’m not asking for you to apologize to me. I’m in this with you. I walked into this with my eyes wide open. I just—I want…you.”

  “I’m right here, angel.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips before he pulls away and promises, “I’m right here. I’ve been here. So many times, my mind has been here with you even when I’m someplace else. When I tell you that I don’t know how to walk away from twenty years with my wife, understand that I’m thinking about it. Because while I have history with her, I imagine what my life would look like without you, and I don’t like it, Blaine.

  “She may be my first love, but you—you make me feel things that I’ve never felt before. Everything is new with you. I feel new with you. I’m not ready to lose you, either. You’re important to me. I hope you know that. I hope you believe that I would not be here if that were not true.”

  I nod, allowing my heart to latch onto his words and all of his unspoken promises. I nod, reminding myself of the risks he’s taking to be here with me. I shove aside my insecurities and circle my arms around his neck as I tell him, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

  “Blaine,” he rumbles, running the tip of his nose along the side of mine. “There’s no place else I’d rather b
e.”

  We kiss and cuddle for the next hour, and it’s perfect.

  It isn’t until he gets up to take a shower that I realize, along with ingredients for dinner, he bought a bottle of his body wash to keep in my bathroom. Maybe it’s stupid, but when he closes the door behind him, I can’t keep the giddy grin off my face. Tonight, a bottle of soap is another unspoken promise—and I won’t take that for granted anymore than I’ll take for granted our stolen moments.

  I’m halfway finished cleaning up the dishes from dinner when he emerges from the bathroom. I look at the clock, noting that it’s almost eleven, and I try not to be too disappointed that he has to leave.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, and I’ll see you soon,” he assures me as he walks me to the door.

  “Lunch this week?”

  “For you? Absolutely.” I smile up at him as he curves his hand around the side of my neck, tracing his fingers across my nape. “I’ll make it work at least one day this week.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Tomorrow?” I ask, pressing my hands against his chest as I lean into him, needing to hear him say it again.

  “Tomorrow,” he mumbles before leaning down and delivering a scorching hot kiss.

  I get so lost in it, I don’t know if he’s saying hello or goodbye—that is, until he pulls away. When he reaches for the door handle, I don’t stop him, sure that if he doesn’t go soon, I won’t let him.

  “Goodnight, Michael.”

  With one foot out in the hallway, and one foot in the doorway, he reaches for one last kiss, making me giggle. He pulls away with a grin on his face, and he winks at me as he murmurs, “Goodnight, angel.”

  Three Weeks Later

  Blaine

  “BLAINE? IT’S ME! I come bearing gifts,” Irene calls out from the other side of the door after knocking three times.