Bucked

by Tara Sue Me

  He knew she wouldn’t do anything to harm herself or their child; he nodded. “Fuck me hard, Kiara. Fuck me like you own me. Because you do. Always.”

  She needed no further encouragement. Riding him. Using him for her own pleasure. Her breasts bouncing just in front of his eyes. Close enough, he could almost taste them, but far enough he wasn’t able to reach. Even if he had any inclination to do so, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She held him captive with the fierce way she chased her own pleasure.

  It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and it wasn’t long until his body longed to participate more in giving her pleasure. Without realizing what he was doing, he shifted his hips to thrust deeper as she came down.

  Which she didn’t miss. “If I have to stop because you can’t listen and follow directions, I’m warning you now, I will be some kind of pissed off.”

  He forced his hips to still because she was right. Damn it.

  She leaned forward, and he hit a different spot inside her, but even better, her glorious breasts were lip level. He shifted his head to suck a nipple into his mouth, when she pulled back abruptly.

  “Kiara?” he asked.

  She didn’t stop riding him and her words came in short pants. “Sorry… they were sore…. when I played… with them earlier…. Pregnancy hormones.”

  His release built, starting at the base of his spine and moving until his balls tightened. Not wanting to come without her, he slipped a hand between them to tease her clit. She bucked against him and let out the sexiest groan he’d ever heard.

  “Like that?” He moved his finger away and smiled at her protest.

  “Please, sir,” she begged, looking down at him, her eyes heavy with love and lust, her hair in a wild mess, and her body flushed the loveliest shade of pink.

  He could deny her nothing. Nor did he want to. He swirled his fingers across and around where he knew she wanted him. “Come with me, my beautiful girl. Come with me.”

  She arched her back and with a sobbing intake of breath, clinched around him, setting off his own release. Fucking hell, it had to be the hottest thing he’d ever seen. If he could move, he’d do it again, but nothing of the sort would happen anytime soon. Much as he hated to admit it, Kiara’s direction of their love making had been the right thing to do. He felt as if he’d ran a marathon and then ran it again for kicks and giggles.

  Some part of him was vaguely aware of Kiara cleaning up. He tried to protest and get up.

  She pushed him back to the bed. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  Without the energy to do anything but obey, he stayed where he was. Just like she’d said, in two minutes she returned to the bed, and wrapped herself around him as close as possible.

  “I’m tired,” she said. “Nap with me?”

  Sweeter words had never been spoken. He closed his eyes and almost let himself drift off when a thought had him wide-eyed. “We have to get married. Soon.”

  She yawned. “Are you proposing?”

  Was he? What if she said no? “Will you say yes?”

  “Ask me first.”

  He swallowed. The one or two times he’d ever pictured himself proposing, it had never been while he was in bed, half asleep, with busted ribs, and a broken foot. Granted, he’d never pictured himself so much in love, he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was her answer. “Will you marry me, Kiara?”

  She squeezed his hand. “Yes and yes and yes, please when?”

  He kissed the back of her neck. “Tomorrow? I know a lot of people in Vegas.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He wasn’t so sure he was. “Yes,” he finally decided. “But as soon as this cast comes off and I can carry you across a threshold properly, we’re getting hitched.”

  “That sounds just about perfect.”

  “It will be,” he promised.

  And it was.

  Epilogue Orson

  Nine Months Later

  “I swear to God, Orson, if you ever touch me again, I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you for breakfast.”

  Had it been a normal day and his wife said that to him, Orson would be more than a little concerned. But today was not a normal day, and though at the moment, several things concerned him, whatever Kiara said at or about him wasn’t one of them. No, he was much more worried about how fast her labor was progressing.

  Everything they’d ever heard or read said first pregnancies were notoriously slow. Two hours to get from, “I’m sure it’s just more Braxton Hicks,” to, “You’re fully dilated,” was not, in his mind, slow.

  He wanted to tell her she was doing great, but the last time he spoke to her, she told him to shut it. And since she’d just threatened to geld him, it probably wasn’t a good idea to rub her back and shoulders, either. He’d read so much about childbirth and newborns the last few months, but nothing had prepared him for how he’d feel so helpless. All he'd accomplished so far was standing by her and doing nothing because there wasn't a damn thing else he could do.

  “One more push, Kiara,” the doctor said. “And you’ll meet your baby.”

  They’d decided not to find out the sex beforehand. He didn’t care one way or the other as long as the baby was healthy. Either gender, frankly, scared the living shit out of him. What the hell did he know about raising a daughter? And if he had a son, what if he screwed up as badly as his own father?

  The truth was, however, their child would be fine. He knew this for a fact because they had Kiara for a mother. That alone would cover up anything he could and probably would mess up.

  “Here we go,” the doctor said. “Last one. Really big…”

  On the bed, Kiara face turned darker as she pushed.

  Breathe.

  “Breathe,” the delivery nurse said.

  Kiara sucked in a breath, and he knew he would never forget how beautiful she looked at this moment. Her fierce strength and determination to bring their child into the world. He’d never seen her stronger, not even when they got the call that authorities had apprehended Randy in Miami trying to leave the country using a fake passport. Not even while testifying against him before a grand jury which soon after resulted in him being put away for a long time.

  She had been an unwavering tower of strength then, but this today surpassed everything prior.

  “Head is out,” the doctor said. “And… It’s a boy! Congratulations, mom and dad.” She held him up, and he let out a wail. “Someone has a healthy set of lungs. Here you go, mom.”

  Orson was struck dumb. He had a son.

  A son.

  Tears overflowed his eyes as he looked at the bed holding his entire world. His wife and his son.

  His family.

  The human body wasn’t made to experience all the emotions he felt. Not at all at the same time. Surly, his heart would explode.

  “Orson,” Kiara called softly from the bed, and somehow his heart kept beating, enabling him to walk the few steps to look at his son. His tiny, swaddled, beautiful son.

  “He’s perfect,” he whispered in awe, amazed he’d had any part of creating the newborn held in his wife’s arms. “Hello, Bryce,” he said, using the name they’d picked for a boy.

  “Here.” She shifted a bit. “You hold him.”

  Orson had never held a baby before. His biggest fear was he’d break or drop him, but Kiara insisted he wouldn't. Orson took his son as carefully as possible, certain at any minute tragedy would descend upon them both. Yet, oddly enough, it didn’t. Instead, he felt as if he’d been holding his son forever. Certainly, this was the reason he had arms in the first place.

  “You look like a natural, dad,” Kiara said, her face beaming with love. God, she grew more beautiful with each passing second. It really wasn’t fair to the women around her.

  “Dad.” He looked at his son and kissed his forehead. “I’m your dad.”

  A responsibility he didn’t take likely and one he looked forward to fulfilling
.

  Epilogue Kiara

  It was the baby monitor that woke her up, Kiara realized after nearly bolting out of bed at an unexpected sound. Bryce must have cried out, because the camera showed Orson in the nursery rocking the three-month-old to calm him down. It wasn’t time for their son to eat; Orson must have gotten out of bed to let her sleep.

  For a few minutes he rocked from foot to foot. She could watch the scene on the monitor forever and never grow tired or bored. Was there anything sexier on earth than a man holding a baby?

  Then Orson sang “Beautiful Boy” so low she had to strain her ears, and yes, by God there was. A man slow dancing and singing to a baby was the sexiest thing on earth. Bryce stopped fussing, his gaze focused on his father as Orson continued.

  Kiara’s chest ached with happiness watching the two people she loved most in the world. Her life had changed so much in the last year. She never worked at the hospital following Orson’s second accident, but called and told them it wouldn’t work out.

  She stayed on the ranch’s medical staff until the month before Bryce’s birth. Orson tried to get her to stop two months prior, but she refused, telling him she’d go stir crazy with nothing to do. One of the great things about the ranch was her ability to work whenever she wanted. At the moment, life was filled with her family, but who knew? She’d always loved nursing and one day, when Bryce was older, she could pick up where she left off right here.

  The baby monitor showed Bryce’s eyes growing heavy. Orson sang another verse. She never knew he could sing until he surprised her on their wedding day by singing “Annie’s Song” while playing the guitar at the reception. After vowing she wouldn’t cry at her wedding and following through, she ended up a sobbing mess shortly thereafter. Damn John Denver.

  Watching Orson now, observing how much care and love he showed his son, it was hard to believe he’d ever feared turning out like his father. Orson was nothing like that man, and not too long ago, he'd told her he'd finally let go of that fear. She was happy he no longer carried that burden.

  On the monitor, Bryce had drifted back to sleep. Orson held him a bit longer before putting him back in his crib. Even then, he stood watching, ready to pick him up if he cried. But it seemed Bryce was deep in dreams, and Orson turned and moved out of the camera’s range.

  A few more seconds and the sound of his footsteps sounded outside the bedroom. He looked shocked to find her up.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked, crossing the floor to their bed.

  “No,” she said. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t trade all the sleep in the world for watching you sing and slow dance with your son.”

  “Heard me, too, did you?” He crawled into bed and pulled her close. Since giving birth, she’d been self-conscious about her body. Orson didn’t seem to care about the extra padding on her behind or belly. She supposed it shouldn’t bother her either, but getting her brain to agree was tough.

  “I love hearing you sing.” She sighed and snuggled deeper into his arms and giggled when she accidentally brushed his erection. “I didn’t know my compliments turned you on so much.”

  “I think it has more to do with the way your cleavage is all but hanging out.” While he hadn’t mentioned either her backside or belly, he made no secret about how much he liked the bigger breasts nursing gave her. “When you’re on your side like this, I picture you holding them out to me and begging for my cock to fuck them.”

  Normally, such talk would have her undressing as fast as possible. From what she’d read, her reaction didn’t match most women, but the way she saw it, she was still a newlywed. Since given the okay by her doctor, she and Orson had a fairly regular sex life, though not as long or as intense as pre-Bryce. And now, it looked like it might be longer until they could resume breast play.

  “Do you remember how sensitive my breasts were during my first trimester with Bryce?” she asked him.

  If the abrupt change in conversation surprised him, it didn’t show. “Yes,” he said. “He’s not teething yet, is he?”

  “It is possible for him to be teething, but that’s not the cause of my sensitivity.” She pulled back to watch his reaction. “That honor belongs to his baby brother or sister.”

  He seemed to repeat the words in his head. His eyes grew wide. “You’re pregnant?” he asked. “Again?”

  She nodded. “Apparently, you and I are extremely fertile together.”

  He laughed. “Holy shit.”

  She’d taken a test this morning, concerned because her periods hadn’t started back. While she hadn’t thought she was pregnant, it was one of the easier reasons to rule out. “I think it’ll be good when they’re older. It’ll make them closer. Almost like twins.” A sudden thought hit her. “What if I’m having twins this time?”

  Orson laughed and pulled her closer. “Then it’s a good thing I bought a house with as many bedrooms as I did.”

  “Sure, you laugh now, but odds are my labor will be even shorter this time.”

  As expected, he stopped laughing. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  He was quiet for a time, then wrapped his arm around her so his hand rested on her belly. “Well, that settles it,” he said. “We’re moving into the hospital when you hit thirty-five weeks.”

  “You’re mad,” she said, sighing in bliss.

  “It’s my wife’s fault. Ever since the day I met her, my life’s been upside down. She got kidnapped that same weekend, you know?”

  “Sounds like she’s trouble to me.”

  “That she is.” His lips brushed her shoulder. “But like she once said, she’s my trouble, and that’s all that matters.”

  Epilogue Jed

  Jedidiah Oakes watched his phone as it vibrated with an incoming call, but he didn’t reach to answer.

  “Orson Kent” the display read. Jed knew he needed to speak with the man. In reality, he already should have contacted him to explain what happened during the scene with Kiara. And more importantly, why he’d ran out. He should have called Orson that same day instead of waiting and having him drive over to look for his sorry ass.

  Jed saw the look on Kiara’s face when Orson stopped the scene, and damn it, Jed hadn’t expected her to look so… broken. He was a sorry, no good excuse of a Dominant and that scene proved it once and for all. He’d been so caught up in his own emotional mess, he hadn’t been paying enough attention to Kiara. Unacceptable on any level.

  Even worse than not paying attention was that he’d hurt her. Not physically, but in his mind, that didn’t matter. Hurt was hurt whether it was physical or emotional, and neither of those were appropriate for a Dom to inflict on a submissive.

  When Orson first approached him about joining him in a scene with Kiara, Jed knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he’d thought he could handle it. It had been a long time since he’d taken part in any private play. Jed had thought since Orson would be there, and was the Dom in charge, everything would be fine. He should have known better.

  Also, he should have told Orson why he couldn’t do the scene. If nothing else, when Jed agreed, he should have at least given Orson a head’s up into his own issues.

  But no, Jed thought he had it all under control. In his mind, he could handle anything thrown his way, because that’s what a Dom did. That’s what a man did. What was it they said went before the fall? Pride?

  Yes. And Jed had it in spades.

  The phone stopped vibrating. Jed waited for the beep signaling another voicemail left by his neighbor, but it never came. More than likely after leaving so many voicemails, Orson had decided one more won't increase the chances of a call back. Though Jed had to hand it to him, Orson had been consistent in his calling, not even stopping when Jed shot the crazy-ass woman trying to stone him to death.

  Orson had only driven out to the ranch once, and that was soon after the scene Jed screwed up. Orson had arrived when he was out. If not, the conversation would have already occu
rred. Jed’s sister, Jessica, who had talked with Orson when he stopped by, told Jed that the man had looked irritated when he discovered Jed wasn’t around.

  “I don’t like lying, Jedidiah,” she said that day. “And I won’t do it again. Find someone else to work your front office if that’s how you want to operate.”

  It wasn’t, and he knew he was scum for asking his sister to cover for him.

  “Jedidiah,” said sister called from the front room of his small office.

  He rolled his eyes. Would it be too much to ask for her to stand up and walk the few steps to his private office?

  “Yes?” he replied. Realizing he was doing the same thing, he stood and poked his head into the front room. “What’s happening?”

  “The school just called.” Jessica was gathering her things together. “Caleb threw up at lunch today and I have to go pick him up. Are you okay watching the front office?”

  He almost told her no, just to be mean and tease her. After all, wasn’t teasing a big brother requirement? But one look at her standing there and watching him with her worry-filled eyes and he couldn’t. Jessica’s worthless husband had left her and their eight-year-old son a few months ago, and they hadn’t seen him since.

  Jed had plenty of room on his property. Aside from the ranch house where he lived, he also had an unoccupied guest house. He’d offered for the two of them to stay at the guest house for as long as they needed. Jessica had agreed, but only, she’d told him, if she could do something useful around the ranch.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her now. “Go get Caleb and don’t worry about me, I have everything covered. I promise.”

  “Okay, but....” she hesitated. “Toby Michell is supposed to be getting back with us on the feed issue, and I’m still waiting for the Hobson Corporation to return my call — ”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “Go. I have it all covered and under control. I promise if I need anything, I’ll call you.”