Bella's Touch

by Suzanne Ferrell

  “Stop, love,” he said, his voice thick with need.

  “Michael?” she asked as she curiously looked at his face. His beautiful unfocused blue eyes stared in her direction, his jaw working against the strain of stopping her from taking him to completion.

  “Not yet, Bella.” His voice still sounded strained, as if he were fighting for control.

  “Why? You’re so close.”

  “Don’t remind me.” He gave a harsh chuckle as he eased her hands from him. “But there’s something else I want more right now.”

  “More than this?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve wanted it ever since last night.” Slowly he drew her up toward the top of the tub. “Climb in.”

  “There’s not room.”

  “For what I have in mind, there is. Take off your slip and climb in right up here.” He pointed to the sides of his chest.

  Following his instructions she pulled her chemise off and laid it on the table near the tub. Grasping his hand she stepped into the warm water, her feet straddling his chest.

  “Perfect,” he murmured as he brought both hands down to cup the back of her calves. Slowly, he stroked up her legs, tickling her slightly at her knees then continuing up her thighs, his strong, callused hands leaving a trail of awareness humming through her body. “When you were impressing upon me the importance all my senses have on my art, there was one that intrigued me more. I didn’t get quite enough of it last night.”

  “Which one was that?” she asked as he scooted up in the tub. Just high enough so his face was level with her lower abdomen and his mouth—dear God, his mouth was even with her sex.

  “Taste.”

  “Oh.”

  “Put your hands behind your neck and come closer,” he ordered her as he pulled her thighs toward his face. The coarse hairs of his beard tickled her inner thighs as he paused to inhale. “I love your scent. It haunted me every day I was gone from you.”

  “It did?” She laced her fingers together behind her neck, slowly dragging air into her lungs as his warm breath caressed the nub of desire at the junction of her womanhood.

  “Mmm, yes. I’ve been trying for months to drink it out of my mind, but you always haunted my dreams.” He pressed his nose into the soft hairs covering her sex then slipped his tongue in along the moist slit.

  Her knees shook. “Oh, Michael.”

  “So sweet, love.” He repeated the move—slowly, softly, as if savoring a rare delicacy.

  Her eyes drifted closed as he spread her slit with his tongue, dipping it farther inside while sliding his hands up her thighs to press her closer. Heat coursed up her body as her own juices flowed to meet the smooth strokes of his tongue.

  It had been so long. A moan escaped her and he chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sending more shivers running through her body.

  “Like that, do you?”

  “I missed you doing this as much as you missed doing it.” Just to tease him, she wiggled her hips forward and back.

  A smart man, he took the invitation, lapping at her until her thighs shook with the effort to keep her vertical.

  “Michael…” she whispered, unable to get anything more out when his lips latched on to the nub of pleasure at the top of her nether lips.

  Clenching her ass cheeks and tightening her thighs, she thrust her hips forward. He suckled her slowly at first then pulling with more force. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub as she began to buck wildly.

  “Oh, God, oh God, Michael...I can’t…”

  He pulled harder.

  She shattered.

  “Oh…Michael…” she mumbled, her body clenched in spasm as the nectar of her passion flowed to his lips. Reaching down, she slid her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him in tighter. He wiggled his tongue against the nub then back along the slit, sending more currents of sizzling heat through her.

  After lapping at her as if drinking in her juices, he slowly moved his head back. Tilting his head up, he licked his lips like a cat finished with a bowl of cream. The pleasure on his face at helping her find her own release filled her heart.

  “You’re so sweet, Bella.”

  She bent her head down to kiss him, tasting her own flavor on his lips, something that always made her feel a little more than naughty. With more need than grace, she lowered into the still slightly warm water to straddle his hips with her knees—the tip of his throbbing cock pressing against her swollen pussy.

  Before she could shift her weight and sink down onto his thick shaft, he grasped her hips and kept her poised just over the tip.

  “Michael?” she asked in almost a whimper--her need to have him inside her so acute.

  “Before I give you what you want, I want your promise.”

  “My promise?” What was he talking about?

  “You are never to tie me up again.”

  “I promise,” she said with a smile and tried to push her pussy over his cock head.

  He gripped her tighter, stopping her actions. “I mean it, Bella. We go no further until you agree. You will never restrain me again without my express permission. On this you will obey me. Especially out here. It isn't safe like back in Boston.”

  The tone in his voice warned her he meant business. He’d never thrust his cock inside her again if she didn’t agree, no matter how much she might want or beg for it, no matter how much he might want it. Something else was in his words, his voice. He was taking control again—not just of their sex now and for the future. No, he was telling her he was the male, the dominant of them, just as he’d been with her before the war.

  “I promise to obey you, Michael. I promise never to tie you down again.” She leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. “I trust you to keep me safe.”

  With a growl he pulled her hips down and thrust upward, impaling her on his cock.

  “Ahh,” she moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his girth and length, but still tight around it. Nothing felt so good, so perfect as being joined to Michael like this.

  As she sat straighter, he leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth, suckling on the taut tip and sending more heat to her throbbing core. With his warm hands on her ass cheeks, he started rocking her forward and back, his shaft gliding out then back in even farther. She clenched around him with each new thrust, eliciting muffled moans from him around her nipple.

  Beneath her his body tightened, his leg muscles hard between her calves. His chest heaved under her hands with his effort to breathe as he worked her up and down, using her to take himself closer to his own release, at the same time taking her higher. A symphony of crescendos—each sensation building upon the other until she reached the precipice.

  With one final thrust, he held her tight against him, his body filling her with his seed and sending her over the edge as spasms of pleasure coursed through her and she milked every bit of his passion into her body.

  She collapsed on top of him—a heap of weak muscles no longer capable of holding her vertical. Despite her breath coming hard and heavy, satiated pleasure filled her completely. His arms folded around her, securing her tightly to him as he fought his own recovery, their hearts beating in tandem in her ears where her head rested on his chest.

  Time passed slowly, but finally the water cooled enough to rouse her from her sensual bliss. A shiver passed through her, and he ran his warm hands firmly over her back and down over her bottom.

  “Cold?” he whispered against the top of her head.

  She lifted her head. “I think we’d both better get out of this tub before we catch the lung ague. And I never got to soak in the hot water,” she said with a mock pout.

  Sinking one hand into her hair, he brought her mouth to his, kissing her slow and deep then releasing her. “I’m sorry I stole all your bath. Why don't you finish while I see to the animals? Then we can continue this snuggled under the warm quilts.”

  “Mmm, that sounds good.”

  He spanked her on one ass cheek. “Then climb off me
, woman,” he said with a chuckle to take the sting out of the smack.

  Sloshing water over the edge of the tub, she wiggled up and off his body, immediately missing his body heat. He followed her up, pulling her tight against him. “Don’t stay in here too long. I plan to ravish you the rest of the day.”

  He grasped her shoulder to steady himself as he felt for the edge of the tub. Refusing to ruin the progress they’d made last night and today by treating him as a helpless invalid, she held still and resisted the urge to help him as he stepped from the tub. As he found a towel on the table where she’d laid them and began drying himself, she sank into the tepid water to quickly scrub with her soapy cloth.

  Only once he was dressed and headed out into the cold did she close her eyes.

  Michael wasn’t the only one who had to adjust to living without his eyesight. If they were to have a future she was going to have to learn when to help him and when he needed to succeed or fail on his own.

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re sure you want to do this now? I know the snow has melted some and we’ve been cooped up in the cabin for nearly a week, but it’s still cold out and the river water is still going to be like ice.”

  Turning his head in her direction, Michael gave her a reassuring smile as he led the horse out of his stall. “The stone I have in mind weighs quite a bit. The underbrush is thick between here and the river. It’ll be easier for Chance and me to get it back here if we can drag it over the smooth snow and ice, rather than try to haul it on dry ground.”

  “And I’m going because…?”

  “Because I like your company?” he teased, trying to take some of the trepidation out of her voice.

  “You could like my company in the warm bed we just left.”

  Her orange-blossom scent lured him closer. “It’s been a week. You’re wearing me out, Bella. I never knew you were such a hussy, trying to lure me back to your wicked ways.”

  “Oh you,” she said, laughter edging her words now. “I could stay here and cook dinner.”

  “You could, but I do need you to come with me.” He tied a saddle with pulling ropes and loops onto Chance’s back then walked to the tack room for more rope. “I’ve never traversed the forest to the river since I came home from the war…”

  “And you need me to be your eyes.”

  No sympathy. Just a matter-of-fact assessment of what he was up against. He could do this, but he’d need her help—at least a time or two.

  “Exactly. Besides, I’ll need someone to hold Chance while I wrap the rope around the stone.” With a smile, he patted the large roan stallion. “He’s a good horse, but doesn’t always stay where I put him. Sort of has a mind of his own.”

  “Like his master?”

  The rustle of her skirts against the dry hay told him she’d moved toward the back door of the barn. His mind let him imagine the sway of her hips with each step—soft and sensual. Planks scraped the ground and then the frozen earth beyond as she opened the barn door for him and Chance.

  “Do you imply that I’m stubborn?” he asked as he led the horse outside.

  “Hmm, let’s see. Single man plans to pull a huge stone out of an ice-cold river and haul it over snow and ice-covered ground with only a woman and a horse to help him. No, that wouldn’t imply stubborn to anyone.”

  He laughed at her sarcasm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Her laughter followed him as they made their way through the trees behind the barn. Slowly, she walked with him, pointing out low branches and large fallen logs in their path. Snow and smaller branches cracked beneath their feet as they trudged through the forest.

  “How far do you think the river is from here?” she asked.

  “By the regular road, I would say near to a mile, but it’s much shorter going this way and the stone I have in mind is closer here than to the road.”

  Chance hesitated, and Michael stopped short. “What is it, boy?”

  “Oh, my,” Bella whispered from the other side of the horse.

  Instantly alert, Michael pulled the long knife he’d tucked into the scabbard strapped to his belt. “What is it, Bella?”

  “Just deer, Michael. Several does and their babies.”

  As they paused amongst the shadows and the patches of light his damaged eyesight would allow him, he listened to the sounds around them. Off to his left the deer nuzzled aside the snow and munched on the underbrush buried there. Melting ice dripped off the tree branches, plopping onto lower limbs and the snow banked up against the trunks. No sounds of predatory animals. No horse whinnies or the sound of strangers approaching through the bush. They were alone.

  Good. If he remembered correctly where they were in the forest, this would be a good spot for what he had in mind. Hauling the stone out of the river wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to come out today.

  Despite already knowing the answer, he asked, “Is there a fallen tree near here?”

  “About three yards to our left.”

  “Near a giant oak?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  Grasping Chance’s reins, he led him toward the log. “When I was a kid, this was one of the places I would come when Pa was in a drinking binge. He hated clearing any of the forest beyond what my mother nagged him to do for garden space. Figured that hadn’t changed while I was gone.”

  Chance stopped and pulled on his reins. Michael reached down and felt along the top of the log for a branch he remembered rising from the trunk. He found it and secured Chance’s reins to it.

  “Why are we stopping here, Michael?”

  “Because I want to talk to you about what you did the other night.”

  “Which other night?” Bella asked, a slight shiver in her voice—from the cold or perhaps maybe apprehension?

  Good. She should be worried.

  He patted his way along Chance’s side then around his rump, effectively trapping Bella between the stallion and the large oak. Inhaling her scent as he stopped in front of her, he reached up to rest his hand against her cheek. “You know exactly which night I’m talking about.”

  “You know why I tied you to the bed.”

  “To teach me how I wasn’t a cripple just because I can no longer see.”

  “Yes. And to help you realize your other senses can help you tap into your artist’s soul.” She trembled against his hand. “I already promised not to do it again—without your permission.”

  “Yes, I know, but everything we do has consequences, sweet Bella. That's one of those things I learned during the war. Tying me up and making me helpless, even if it was for my own good, wasn’t something I enjoyed.”

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “No? You didn’t want to punish me for the way I’d...treated you earlier?” he asked, slipping his hand down her arm and capturing her wrist.

  “No. I told you that night you hadn’t done anything I didn’t want to happen.”

  “Then you had no idea how helpless I was when I awoke tied to the bed and unable to see my captor? It didn’t feel good to have me at your mercy?”

  “Of course not. Michael, I love you. I didn’t think—”

  “That’s the problem, love. You didn’t think, because you believed there wouldn’t be any consequences for your actions.” Reaching into his coat, he brought out a leather tie he’d pocketed before they left the cabin and slipped the pre-made loop over her hand.

  “What are you doing, Michael?” she asked, pulling her arm back from his firm grip, a note of unease in her voice.

  “Bella, do you trust me?” he asked in as soothing a voice as possible.

  “Of course I do.” With her admission, she stopped trying to get free.

  “Then let me show you what it’s like.” Patiently he waited for her answer. After the incident that first afternoon he would never use force on her again.

  Her free hand came to rest on his cheek where she’d helped him trim back his beard to the goatee h
e’d worn before the war. “I’ll always trust you.”

  Grasping her hand he turned it over and placed a kiss in her palm before releasing it. “Face the tree,” he said and stepped back.

  As her skirts rustled against the frozen ground toward the tree, he brought the leather tie around it then reached for her other hand, securing her to the trunk, face first. Again he reached into his coat, this time bringing out a soft scarf she’d given him as a gift the Christmas before he’d left.

  “Close your eyes,” he said as he moved around behind her. Bringing the cloth up, he carefully felt her face to be sure only her eyes were covered then secured it with a knot behind her head. “Can you see anything?”

  “Not with my eyes shut.”

  Her short laugh eased some of his worry over her being scared about what he had in mind. He wanted her to understand how he’d felt, but he didn’t want her panicked. In fact he hoped she lose herself to the sensations just as he had.

  “Try opening them. Tell me what you see.”

  “A little light. A large shadow...the tree?”

  “Yes. Anything else?” he asked as he settled his hands on her shoulders.

  “No. The cloth is too thick.”

  “Good. That is all I can see—ever.”

  “Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize…”

  Her words drifted off on a slight gasp as he leaned in to nibble on her ear. “It’s a bit frightening, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you imagine how I felt waking to find myself tied helpless to the bed and not being able to see where I was or who had done that to me?”

  “And I didn’t even have a lamp lit in the room…”

  He could hear the tears in her voice and the sound of her swallowing back her emotions.

  “…so I could see the shadow of you,” he finished for her.

  Without saying more, he stepped away, letting her take in the isolation he’d felt, the anticipation of something more to come. To experience the not-knowing.