“Yes,” I moaned, loving the feel of my bindings. Nothing hurt, but being tied like that tapped into something deep inside of me. I felt so safe with him, so trusting, I could give myself to him entirely. I knew he’d play at disciplining me, at anger, but he’d always make it hurt so good. And that level of trust enabled me to completely let go as I lay there naked and tied, quivering for his touch.
“Now I have another call I need to make,” he informed me. I made a frustrated little grunt and he spanked me again. “You’ll wait for what I give you.” He drew a finger down along my stinging buttocks. “And there’s something you need to do for me while I’m occupied.”
He moved again to the drawer. “I have something for you. It’s new. I can’t wait to watch you experience it while I take this call.”
He brought his hands to my ass cheeks, spreading them apart. I tensed, nervous. “You need to relax, baby,” he soothed me, and I felt warm, wet pressure at my hole. Dipping his fingers down into my soaked pussy, he coated them in my slick arousal, then brought it up to my tight ring, pressing, stroking, massaging. We hadn’t done too much anal play and it felt wrong but so right at the same time. Forbidden and especially naughty, and I gasped at how it made me ache.
“Yes, like that,” he praised me, his large hand at my lower back, pressing me down to angle my ass up for him how he wanted. When he’d gotten my entrance nice and slick and relaxed, he took his fingers away. But then I felt a different kind of pressure.
“You’re going to take this up your ass for me.” I gasped at his words, and he brought his fingers down to my pussy to stroke my swollen clit. I relaxed under his attentions, sighing it felt so good. And then he slid something smooth and firm into my asshole.
“Colt!” I cried out, from shock more than pain. It didn’t feel huge, but it did feel strange.
“Good.” He pet me, stroking my ass cheeks, standing and surveying me. “That looks so good in you, baby.” He massaged my ass, my clit, and soon the pleasure started pulsing through me again, mingling with the strange sensation of being stretched where I was so tight.
But then he stepped away. I wiggled, disappointed. He could take me up and over the top with just a few more coaxing strokes, I knew he could. But I understood what he was doing. I’d tormented him on his phone call. Now he was tormenting me, making me writhe with need. It made me even wetter knowing he was watching every second, seeing me so worked up.
“I know you need it, baby,” he assured me. “I see how much you need to come. But I have one more phone call. I’m going to make it here in the bedroom watching you.”
I whimpered, knowing how difficult it would be to wait. “I know it’s going to be hard.” He stroked my hair and his touch felt so good, so soothing, even as I lay there naked and bound, ass plugged and up on display. “You want to come.” He brought a finger to my pussy, stroking it leisurely down my slick, dripping slit. I moaned, deep and throaty. “You need it. I know.”
But then his voice took on a harsher, more disciplinary tone. “But you may not come until I tell you.” His hand fisted in my hair, firm in his grip. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I panted, at his mercy.
“This is what you get for being so naughty in my office. You need to take your punishment. But if you’re good, I’ll reward you.”
I surrendered to the sensations, the restraints wound around my ankles, the pressure in my ass mingling with the throbbing of my clit. Colt stepped to the side. He’d composed himself, his shirt tucked in, his pants up buckled and zipped. Standing there cool and in command in his impeccable suit, he made a stark contrast to me quivering, bound and naked on the bed. As he took out his phone, he stood watching me and offered one last warning.
“Now remember, I’m on a work call. You need to keep quiet.”
Exactly as he started his call, I felt a deep vibrating, pulsing in my ass. The plug he’d pushed into me was massaging my tight hole. I gasped, wiggling, mouth open, shocked at the sensations and wanting to cry out. I met his eye and he gave me a warning look. I needed to keep quiet.
“Colt here,” he started his call, turning off the vibrations with what I realized was a remote control in his pocket. He had me trussed up and completely naked, his plaything to do with whatever he pleased. I breathed deep, knowing he was going to enjoy this quite a bit. The challenge for me would be not enjoying it too much. I could already feel the orgasm pushing me, right at the brink, the scene so erotically charged I knew the next time he set the plug to vibrate I could come so easily. I was going to need to work hard to resist, to show him how good I could be for him.
It started again, the pulsing, buzzing pressure deep in my ass and I closed my eyes, letting him play with me. I arched up my back as he walked around to watch. I wanted him to see how it made me drip, how much I needed to come. And how I held back as he’d told me, following orders.
I couldn’t have said how long it went on, the torturous vibrations, the even more torturous moments of calm and quiet as I waited for more. He flicked the vibrating plug on and off, no warning, heedless of my responses, even as I writhed and panted, struggling with the intensity. And he watched me the whole time, standing and taking his business call, surveying me from all angles. Somehow, his commanding watch made it all even hotter.
The vibrations grew in intensity, pulsing, pushing, drawing deep desire and pleasure out of my core. I had to close my eyes, had to fight to keep my breathing steady. I didn’t think I could take much more of it, the need to come was too strong. I didn’t think I could fight it any more. It would feel so good to let go, finally give in, let it all wash over me.
But I held back. And he ended his call and turned off the vibrations. He approached me, running his large palm down the center of my back.
“So good, Caroline.” As he reached my ass, he stroked my cheeks and circled the plug. I finally let myself moan, deep and loud.
“Now you get what you need, baby.” This time, when he set the plug to vibrate again, he drew two fingers up inside my pussy, thrusting as he strummed my clit. “Now you can come.”
And come I did, full and hard, shuddering and screaming as I let go. I was so needy for release. Before the last waves crashed over me, he stood and I heard him unzip his fly. That sound alone made me groan again with hunger.
He plunged his cock straight into me, and I was so wet he sank in deep, all the way, all at once. The sensation of being filled like that, plug in my ass, cock in my pussy overwhelmed me and I cried out.
“So tight,” he grit out, beginning to thrust into me, hammering in. “So wet.”
Moaning, I dropped my face to the bed, surrendering to how he fucked me so good. Bound as I was, it was really for the best, letting him have his way with me. His large hands grabbed onto my hips, forcing me up against him as he pushed into me, again and again, demanding, relentless.
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, you bad girl,” he asked, harsh, giving my ass a slap. “You needed me to fuck you.”
“Yes,” I moaned, “yes.”
“You got bratty, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I confessed, loving my pounding, feeling my arousal heighten again.
“You took your punishment so well, I’m going to let you come again. Are you ready?”
The incoherent grunts I was making gave him his answer. He gripped me hard and full, plunging his cock all the way inside me as he came with a deep groan of release. I climaxed around his cock, crying out, our pants and sweat mingling as we shuddered again and again, the pleasure riding itself out.
And that was what you called a regular Thursday night with Colt.
§
That weekend, we walked along the Seine in the summer sunshine. We lounged at an outdoors café, people-watching and nibbling on treats. We made love as the sun set, the elaborate south tower of Notre-Dame lit and rosy in the distance out the window of our apartment.
Post-shower, Colt and I sat on the couch, glowing and warm. I
’d put on panties, but he’d stopped me there so he could cup and caress me as I relaxed on his lap.
“Do you want a big wedding?” he asked. “Or do you want to elope?”
“Excuse me?” I looked up at him, smiling. I knew how I felt about him, and he sure told me and showed me he loved me all the time. But was he talking about getting married?
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he continued, leaning in to kiss my throat as he massaged my breast. “I’ll rent out the Central Park boathouse, the Four Seasons, whatever you desire. Or we could do it in the Hamptons. Or Fiji.” He gave me a mischievous wink. “But lately I’ve been thinking how appealing it would be to elope.”
“Have you?” Elated as I felt, I did wonder about him skipping a step. “I have to ask, are you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” he asked, and there was that glint of mischief again. “Do you think I misplaced something? Left my cell phone under the couch cushions, maybe?”
“You are extremely careless,” I teased, knowing he was the exact opposite. The man had everything all planned out. Including this moment, it seemed, as he spoke again.
“Why don’t you reach under and check, just to be sure.”
I leaned down, pushed my hand under the cushion and found it. A small, black velvet jewelry case. My hand shook as I pulled it out.
“Will you, Caroline?” he asked in a whisper. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes, Colt.” I kissed him, not fighting back the tears that spilled onto our cheeks. “Yes!”
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he finally asked, after much more kissing and crying and repetitions of yes.
“I don’t need anything fancy, Colt.” I shook my head, wondering what he’d picked out. I knew he could buy me a diamond the size of a grapefruit.
“Trust me, baby.” I opened it and couldn’t believe how lovely it was, a sweet and simple round-cut diamond. “You know I’ll buy you anything you want. But I tried to choose a ring that you’d enjoy wearing every day, while you’re baking. I never want you to have to take it off.”
“Colt.” I threw my arms around his neck, fresh tears on my cheeks. “I never thought I could be so happy.”
“I know the feeling,” he agreed.
I sat back, looking up at his gorgeous face. He really did look like Superman with his dark hair and blue eyes, my own personal superhero. And what was that I saw at the corner of his eye?
“Is that a tear?” I asked reaching up my finger.
“It’s nothing, nothing.” He hastily denied, brushing it away with a guilty smile.
“From the alpha CEO? Unbelievable.”
“I have not ever, nor ever will acknowledge any purported involvement with any emotions heretofore referred to as crying.”
“Oh, Colt.” I feigned arousal at his terminology. “Talk legal to me.”
“Come here, you.” He wrapped an arm around me, took the ring out of the case and slipped it onto my finger. “Hard to improve on perfection.” He slid a hand down my side in admiration. “But that ring does look good on you.”
“I love it,” I answered simply. “And I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The sun dipped down below the buildings of Paris, the city’s daytime activity fading into nighttime amusements. The more things changed, the better they got. We sat together, agreeing to elope, and soon, right in Paris. Why wait when the future called out to meet us so bright?
EPILOGUE
Colt
The only person I worried about upsetting when Caroline and I chose to elope over the summer was my grandmother. Everyone else could take it or leave it. I didn’t give a fig. But Gram? I didn’t want to disappoint her by depriving her of a grand family event. Every year she hosted the renown Kavanaugh holiday party at the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan. Nobody knew how to rock a red carpet in a ball gown like my Gram, the Dowager Baroness.
Happily, she praised our decision. “How sensible of you Colt,” she agreed. “I’ve been telling you for years. Why wait?”
“My feelings precisely,” I concurred. And so I wasted no more time before introducing the two of them, flying Caroline up to the UK to visit Gram at her estate in Yorkshire. After a leisurely stroll in the gardens, they both found a private moment to tell me how much they liked each other.
“She’s lovely,” Gram summed it up. “And she’s good for you, too.” I’d always felt that Gram saw through me, even as others kowtowed to my authority. She knew that sometimes I took the reins even when I didn’t know exactly where I was driving. But she also always let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she loved me in spite of, maybe even because of my flaws.
“I’m terribly pleased that you didn’t end up with one of those…what has Gigi called them?” As she tried to recall the word, I wondered if I was about to hear my grandmother swear for the first time in her long life. I knew my sweet, bubbly younger sister didn’t always like the types of women with whom I used to spend time. “Used to” being the operative phrase. “Ice queens,” Gram finally finished.
It did make me smile. I knew my grandmother as a loving, generous woman, but it was also true that she carried herself with an unquestionably regal bearing. She’d been compared to the Queen of England on more than one occasion. And the comparison wasn’t off-base. They were only four years apart in age and knew each other with some degree of familiarity, as could be expected of women in the same social circles with children of similar ages. PTA meetings and all that.
Two weeks before Christmas, Caroline and I flew to New York City for a few family events. There was the annual Kavanaugh holiday party, of course, and this year was no different. Except I’d have my wife with me. That was new, and I knew some in my circle would have a word or two to say about it behind closed doors. Me, the king of industry, shacked up with a little bakery owner no one had ever heard of from Southern Oregon! What they didn’t know was I was the lucky one. I felt grateful every day for the crazy circumstances that had brought us together.
I ushered Caroline into the gala, proud to have her by my side. She wore a deep green gown that made her eyes look like emeralds and showed off her curves in a way that made me definitely want to leave the party early. All those hills and valleys, I could never get enough of exploring her charms. But we had a large party to attend first, with boatfulls of caviar and glittering lights.
My tolerance for all that had dropped somewhat. It was probably Caroline’s influence, or maybe it was the lasting impact of our short time together on the island when all the bullshit had been stripped away. I didn’t mind showy, opulent displays, but I certainly didn’t need them to enjoy myself.
“This is gorgeous!” Caroline marveled at the ballroom with its lavish details and holiday decorations. Thank God she seemed to feel much more relaxed than her disastrous first visit to New York. To think she’d gotten the impression that I’d been trying to change her, mold her into something she’s not? Perish the thought.
“I think I see Kara,” I said as I led her through the crowd, using the good nine inches of height I had on her to help me navigate. She and Kara, my half-brother Declan’s wife, had really hit it off. They’d met a couple months ago at my younger brother Heath’s wedding. They’d discovered that they both shared a passion for baking. The rest, as they say, is history.
As the two of them connected like old friends, I chatted with Tim, my new COO. What a step up he was from Leonard with his dour outlook and constantly displeased and disapproving attitude. Tim and I were taking things in new directions, making fresh starts in all the right ways.
Speaking of, Dominic made a surprise appearance at the party. He’d technically been a member of the Kavanaugh family a few years back, during the brief time that his mother had married my father before his untimely passing. But Dom hadn’t exactly made it to too many of our family functions. Covered in tats and tough as they came, Dom wasn’t such a black tie guy. Which made it all the more surprising when he walked through the entryway.
“Dominic!” I strode over to give him a warm welcome. A few of my older relatives eyed him with suspicion. And they were right. He was a 6’3” tattooed, muscled, combat-trained badass. He looked exactly like the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley. Only I knew the side on which he fought. He might look like a bad guy, but he was definitely one of the good guys. And he’d been fighting officially as one of them for the past few years, as a covert operative in the Special Forces.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I clapped him on the shoulder and shook his hand. I’d be grateful to him until the day I died that he’d been there years back to help me…well, not die.
“Heard you had a hell of a year,” Dominic responded, giving me a nod. I didn’t know which significant event he was referring to, the whole plane crash/marooned on a deserted island thing or my wedding. With Dom, I had a feeling it was the latter that would phase him.
“It’s been a big one,” I agreed. “I want to tell you more about it. And introduce you to my wife.”
I hadn’t expected I’d have the chance to introduce them. I invited Dom every year, but I hadn’t seen him in…come to think of it, a long time. Not since that summer out in the Hamptons. Four and a half years ago?
“How you been?” I asked. Dominic was a man of mystery, both out of temperament and necessity. You didn’t become a Green Beret specializing in unconventional warfare if you had a big mouth. I’d managed to get ahold of him a few times over the years for quick phone calls. You did that with people who’d saved your life. But he could never talk for long. One time I was pretty sure I’d heard gunfire in the background.
“I’m out,” he answered, brief and direct.
“Is that right?” I’d been looking around for Caroline, scanning the crowd, but I stopped to glance at him. I’d assumed he’d stay in the military for a while, make a career out of it. It seemed to suit him, and I was sure they’d recognized the find they had in Dominic. Especially since I’d had some well-placed contacts put in a few calls to highly-ranked officials. Dom was exactly the kind of person we needed defending and protecting.
Unbelievable Page 25
