I did as he asked, and before I could guess what he’d planned, he grabbed my wrists with one hand and put them above my head. He fumbled for something I couldn’t see, but then he bound my wrists together and secured them to the headboard.
My pussy clenched hard. Over the past year, we’d discovered rough handling and taking me by surprise led to mind-blowing orgasms. Every day, he worked hard to fulfill all of my fantasies.
He reached for an ankle and tethered it to one of the posts at the base of the bed, then repeated the same with the other one, spreading me wide and tight.
There was little give, and moving more than an inch proved difficult. Groaning, I attempted to arch my back but it was impossible, and it was as frustrating as it was arousing. Wyatt ran a finger down the center of my body and over the apex of my thighs. The level of the arousal I was experiencing used to embarrass me, not anymore. The more vocal I was in my enjoyment, the more it turned Wyatt on.
“Can I taste you, Master?”
The thoughtful expression on his face was as sexy as it was dark, and liquid fire pooled at my center. If he lost control right now and fucked me, I would be perfectly fine with that, but he clearly had other things in mind.
“Not yet, Mouse.”
He brushed his fingers over my clit and down to my opening where he slowly eased two into my pussy. My walls clenched around him hard, holding him tight.
“You want to come?” He eased his fingers in and out, in and out. “Tell me, Mouse, how badly do you need me to fuck you? How badly do you want me?”
When he dragged the tips of his fingers over my G-spot, I screamed and cursed.
“Master, let me come, I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”
“You’re going to do anything I want anyway.” He slammed his fingers into me and the beginning of my first orgasm as a married woman coiled low in my belly.
“Oh, God. Please.”
He slammed his fingers into me again, and my pussy answered by clamping down.
“More. Please, more.” A few more seconds was all I needed.
Again and again he slammed his fingers into me. My body convulsed, and my breath came in fast and desperate pants as an intense orgasm built inside of me. Almost there… almost…
Wyatt removed his fingers. “Not yet.”
“Don’t be so cruel,” I moaned, “it’s our wedding night.”
“I want my bride to come on my mouth,” he said.
I whimpered and wished I could draw my legs back, to open myself up to him.
Wyatt lowered his head and flicked his tongue over my clit. Nonsensical curses flowed from my mouth, and I attempted to thrust into his face, but I couldn’t. He used his mouth and teeth to nibble, bite and suck.
“Christ, you taste so fucking good.”
If I’d been able to move, I would have wrapped my legs around his shoulders and held him in place.
Holding my swollen clit between his teeth, he used the tip of his tongue to both pleasure and destroy me. The build of my orgasm was irresistible and called to me like the sweetest of siren’s songs.
I was going to come.
Abruptly, Wyatt pulled away from me, leaving me a frustrated, unsatisfied mess.
“Not yet, Little Mouse.” He glanced up at me, his eyes glazed and hungry with lust.
My breath was fast and uneven, my heartbeat rapid and unsteady, and my body trembling and taut.
“Untie me, Master. Make love to me. Let me touch you.”
“What have you done to me?” he asked with a chuckle in his voice.
His eyes fastened on mine and there was something almost feral about the desperation I saw there. Without saying a word, he released my ankles, and reaching up, he released my wrists and eased them onto the bed.
When he knelt between my thighs, I hooked my legs around him and anchored my feet on the small of his back.
“You’re mine,” he rasped.
“Always,” I replied.
Taking his time, he eased into me, surging a little deeper with each thrust. When he filled me to the hilt, I flexed my inner muscles around his length.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he groaned.
Bracing his weight on either side of me, he bent his head until his lips caught mine. Love fogged my thoughts, and I kissed him with a searing hunger. Our tongues stroked and played, deepening our connection.
“Fuck me, Master.”
His breathing grew harsh, and his movements urgent. He pulled back and thrust deep. Pummeling me, stretching me, filling me.
Reaching between us, he caught my swollen clit between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. That one small movement sent me tumbling. There was no way I could have stopped coming.
I dug my nails into his back, and he pumped hard, sending me higher and higher. My body grew hot, then cold, and then hot again. Shudders racked me, and sobbing screams ripped from my throat.
I fell into the abyss and dragged him with me. Wyatt’s thrusts became wild and frenzied. He thrust once, twice, three times before growling his climax.
His sweat-slicked body collapsed onto mine, and our rough, erratic breaths filled the otherwise silent room. Every beat of his heart vibrated against my chest, and a wave of emotion washed over me.
“We’re going to have a baby,” I whispered.
He rolled off me and sat up “A baby? We’re going to have a baby?”
“Yes,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “This time next year, we’ll have a little two-month-old to celebrate the holidays with.”
He pressed a lingering kiss on my belly and then held me close. “The day you walked into my room, was the beginning of my life. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“If you love me half as much as I love you, then I do.”
Even though sleep called my name and my body was limp and sated, I wanted more. I wanted everything he could give me.
I wanted forever.
And forever was what I would have.
The End.
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Celeste is a virgin and Maxim is going to change that. But first he's going to tease her- in public- until she just can't take it any more. Will he make her want him so badly that she'll let him take what he wants- her innocence- where he wants it- outside, in broad daylight? Find out in Juliana Conners’ Tease Me.
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This Christmas, my bosses want to give me two package at once...
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Chapter 1 – Mandy
What the hell was that noise?
Not the birds. But the banging that sounded like it was coming from the garage?
I think it wa
s about 7:30 a.m. when I awoke to the sweet sound of the birds outside, and the awful clanging noise of whatever was going on inside our house. Technically it was my boyfriend Jared’s house—or, more technically, it was his rich grandma Sue Ellen’s house she let him live in rent-free—but I had been living with him for over a year.
There was a lovely pair of song birds that had nested near our bedroom window at the beginning of spring. They didn’t seem to just mindlessly chirp. There was a real song in their voices. It was a song that normally made me happy. But today, there was a knot in the pit of my stomach, just as there had been for the past few weeks, preventing any kind of happiness, even though it was my first day of my new job, and it was supposed to be a good day, a brand new start for me.
Looking over to the wall, I followed the design of birds I had painstakingly painted as part of the room’s decoration—my own attempt to make the house feel more like “mine” instead of just “Jared’s.” Had the song birds inspired my painting, or had the design summoned the birds? I couldn’t remember. There had been a time when decorating the house and making it my own had been a joy for me, but that time had long past. These days, I was beginning to ask myself how much longer I could live in its suffocating entrapment.
Taking a breath of the morning air that was billowing in the open window, and trying to shield my ears from the clanging, banging sound, I rolled over and reached out for Jared, but he was gone. Again.
Now the whole vibe of the morning turned even more to worry. Jared has been so out of it recently and always gone. He never told me what it was all about it. He always said it was work related, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew it was something bad. Maybe I didn’t want to see it. But that didn’t stop me from feeling it in my gut.
On this particular morning, I couldn’t just go running to him again, or waste time trying to figure out what was up with him. I had to get ready for my first day on the job. It had taken me weeks to get this position at Dunthrup Industries. With so many of my other friends struggling and out of work, it seemed like a miracle that I could land something so potentially lucrative. A decent salary, benefits after 90 days, vacation and potential bonuses— If only Jared were more supportive.
It was clear to me now that Jared had something to do with the banging sound. He was probably working on his old, beat up car in the garage, even at this ungodly early hour. Or maybe that was just what I told myself so I didn’t have to face an uglier truth.
In the shower, I pumped myself up mentally. “You can do this, you can do this, you can do this,” I told myself, to the same rhythm as the water running over my body.
I was in pretty decent shape, but I had really wanted to drop a little weight before starting this job. I liked my curves, but five pounds would go a long way toward keeping my belly from muffin-topping. Being 5’ 6” and always having struggled with my weight in the past, I knew if I just worked at it, I could tighten up. But Jared had me so stressed out and I had eaten so much ice cream in front of the TV.
I got out of the shower and looked at myself in the mirror. I squinted at myself, deciding I still looked pretty damn sexy, extra weight or not.
“You can do this,” I said. “You have what it takes. You can do this.”
By this point, I was no longer sure I was talking about my first day of work. I had a gnawing feeling I was talking about dealing with the glaring problem that was my relationship.
Our bathroom was an outdated pink and green. It was a horrific color combination conjured up by Sue Ellen’s 60’s or 70’s nostalgia. When I moved in with Jared, we undertook so much work to make it feel less like his grandmother’s and more like our own. We had to tear up carpeting, repaint walls and take down the ugly Safari wallpaper in the basement.
Back then, the house was a project for both Jared and me together. That’s what had made it special. But over time, our enthusiasm for house renovation projects had faded, along with the zeal of our relationship, and we had never made it so far as to update this bathroom.
I dried off, put on makeup and got dressed. I was starting to perk up. I felt I looked a little like Rebel Wilson, but with auburn hair and a prettier face. I sometimes wished I was her. She never seemed self-conscious at all. But with her as my spirit animal, I prepped my coffee mug.
“Yeah, you can do this,” I said, starting to convince myself. “A new job is going to change everything.”
Then, as I heard Jared clanging around in the garage again, it dawned on me that I really had to face this. I needed to confront him before my big day. Who knows? Maybe he’d have it together and see me off. Maybe he’d be the old Jared; full of life, hope and ambition.
The moment I walked in the garage, I instantly regretted my decision. Jared looked like a cornered rat. He was on the floor of the garage, scrubbing away at the cement, and the acrid smell of chemicals was in the air.
“Jared,” I said, trying to be in control. “What the hell is this?”
“Nothing, go back to bed.”
Jared had a gaunt Jesus body and face that I had initially been very attracted to, because it hadn’t been that skinny. But he had somehow gotten very thin. The muscle tone was gone from his face, as if he was wasting away. His hair, once his best feature, was stringy and greasy. He was wearing his old denim jacket from middle school. The thing was full of holes, but he kept insisting I mend it for him.
“Jared, I can’t go back to bed. I’m starting my new job today,” I said, incredulous.
“So, what? You think you’re better than me?”
“I’m starting the job for us! Working for us!”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re doing! What are you doing?!”
“Don’t worry about it. Just go back to bed.”
“I’m going to work! Are you even listening?!”
The smell of the chemicals was overwhelming. On a workbench, he had poured some translucent substance in one of my baking sheets. It had turned to crystal and was already cracking. That’s when I remembered something I saw on television. Breaking Bad.
“Oh, my God! Is that meth? Are you making meth?”
“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” he assured. “This is how I make money. Just like you’re doing. It’s nothing bad.”
“I’ve seen Breaking Bad. I know what that is!”
“Relax, baby.”
Relax, baby, my ass, was all I could manage to think. Leave it to someone who was up all night making meth to tell me to relax.
Apparently, before I could leave for my first day of work, it was time to have a showdown with my boyfriend. I sure hoped Rebel was ready to be my spirit animal now more than ever.
Chapter 2 – Mandy
“Are you insane?” I demanded of Jared. “Do you have any idea how illegal that is?”
“I’m cleaning it up,” he insisted. “You see, it’s the smell that gets people. You have to clean up after you cook.”
“Jared, you’re not thinking straight!” I insisted. “If you’re caught, the cops will take the house! They’ll take everything. Your poor grandma will lose everything she’s helped you out with in life.”
“No, the cops won’t find out,” he assured, unconvincingly. “And if they do, Grandma won’t get caught up in anything. I would just—I would just tell them it was me.”
“We have to throw this stuff away,” I said, determined. “You have to get help. For your own sake, and for the good of our relationship. I can’t stay with you anymore, if you’re…doing meth. And making meth.”
I couldn’t even believe we were having this conversation. It seemed I was in a bad dream. Or an episode of Breaking Bad. I had barely even tried pot. This could not be my life.
Except it was. I had to face it. And change it. Because apparently Jared wasn’t planning to. Suddenly, all the lonely nights made a lot more sense. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but Jared must have been deep into drugs for far too long. It had finally just spiraled be
yond his control, and gotten so bad I had to notice it, even if I hadn’t really been ready to face it.
When I picked up the baking sheet, Jared immediately rose to his feet. His eyes were riveted on it; like Gollum watching the Precious.
“Oh, my God! You’re a meth addict!”
“No-no-no, baby, I just test the product. I’m not a customer.”
As if to prove he didn’t need it, Jared got back down to scrubbing the floor.
“You see, most dealers know not to try it,” he explained. “But I’m not like most dealers. It doesn’t bother me. And if I stay up a few nights, so what? I get so much done!”
“We are through,” I told him, wondering why the hell it took me so long to get to this point. “We are done!”
Jared just laughed. He stopped scrubbing the floor and got to his feet. He shook his skinny finger in my direction.
“You? You’re gonna find another place? Where? When? I’ve been payin’ the bills! How do you think we still have Internet?”
“Sue Ellen, that’s how,” I spat at him. “And that’s why I was looking for a job. So I could support myself and not have to depend on her, or you. How long have you been doing this? How did I not see?”
“A week or two or six,” he said, dismissing my concerns. “You know how it is.”
“No, I don’t know how it is. You can’t do this, Jared! Do you want to get us put in jail?”
“I don’t normally cook here,” he explained. “I got a place out in the woods, but the cops found it. So, I had to come here. Just this one time. To fill my orders.”
“Fill your orders? You moron! That’s where you’ve been escaping to? The woods, to cook? And the cops have already found you…”
“No, no, no,” he sputtered. “They only found the shack. I didn’t leave nothin’ behind they could tie to me.”
“Oh, you’re just so sure!” I said, as sarcastically as possible.
“Uh huh.”
“While you were high on meth, you’re positive the cops didn’t find any fingerprints or hair fibers or any other evidence because you’re just so careful when you’re high!”
Tackled by the Team Page 137
