22. Amy
Amy
Kerry is a man who always knows what he wants and goes for it like a ruthless bulldog.
Which is why the whole thing confuses me so much. By all of my understanding of the world, he shouldn’t want this. It does nothing for him. I’m the only one getting pleasure. It just…doesn’t make any sense.
His heated gaze follows me everywhere as I get ready for bed, per his insistence, something he thought of just before I got on the bed.
His voice had been nearly panicked as he told me to stop.
He wants to make sure I’m good and tired by the time he’s done with me, too tired to get ready for bed afterwards.
My entire body already feels hot just from the thought.
But there’s still a wriggling, nagging feeling in the back of my head. Uncomfortable is putting it mildly. There’s something about this that feels…wrong. Not that Kerry’s doing anything wrong, but that I’m doing something immoral by accepting this.
Brushing my teeth has never felt so intense as Kerry stands behind me, leaning against the wall next to the shower, watching me in the mirror. As soon as I finish, I go to the closet and grab some pajamas. “Are you going to watch me change, too?” I ask teasingly.
“No,” Kerry replies gruffly, his serious expression unchanging. “Because you won’t be getting into them. Not for a bit.”
I barely have time to process his words before he’s charging across the bathroom and lifts me under my arms, carrying me into the bedroom before tossing me onto the bed. All of the air rushes out of my lungs, and I look up at him in wonder. A growl leaves his throat as he crawls over me.
Kerry brushes my cheek with the back of his hand. “My precious leannán. I know that once you realize how wonderful you are and how much I love you, you’ll be unstoppable.”
If all of the air wasn’t already knocked from my lungs, his words would’ve done the job. I don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s tugging on the straps of my sundress. “May I take this off, leannán? Will you let me take care of you?”
I nod and sit up. His touch is as gentle as a dove as he unzips the dress from the back, fingers gliding across my skin like he has all the time in the world. Meanwhile, I’m already burning up from just these light touches.
Yet again, I acknowledge that this man knows exactly what he’s doing.
He does not rushing, but an excited hunger burns in his eyes.
His eyes set the entire mood more than candles and soft music ever could, the knowledge that he’s entirely focused on me, ready to do whatever it takes to bring me pleasure and satisfy me.
His fingers glide down, sliding my dress off inch by torturous inch. His lips find my skin, tracing a path downwards as he reveals new skin. It’s like his mouth is chasing the fabric of my dress, staying just above it as he pulls it down.
By the time the dress pools around my ankles and he tosses it away, he’s kissed a straight line down my chest, dotting each hip, before making a zig-zag path down both of my legs.
Only a minute passes since he started, but it’s feels like the longest minute of my life.
I hold my breath almost the entire time without even realizing it, and only exhale once the fabric hits the floor.
He crawls back up my body with a wicked smirk and a gleam in his eye, and my throat constricts. He’s barely even started and I’m already soaked for him. Based on his expression, I’m guessing he knows it.
“You’re beautiful, Amy. My perfect fairy of light.
” He kisses my neck as his hands skim under my back, tracing the small of it up to my bra strap.
I lift up enough to let him unlatch my bra, and a harsh exhale leaves him as he pulls it off.
“The most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. I chose you, years ago, and I’ll keep choosing you for the rest of my life. ”
There’s still a part of me that’s aware that his obsession with me should concern me, but it doesn’t. I’m relieved. Because he’s right, he has been consistently dedicated to me, even when I didn’t know it, for years. And that strangely soothes the part of me that fears abandonment.
He lifts his knee, pressing it against my panties and applies just enough pressure to leave me panting as his lips go back to work, nibbling on my ear, kissing down my neck, before wholly devoting himself to my breasts.
By the time he’s done, I’m gasping for air and rocking my hips against his leg, desperately trying to convince him to give me more.
I don’t even notice his hand slipping down until I feel a finger sliding under the lacy white panties I wore for my wedding day.
He parts my folds with ease, and I can barely contain myself.
My hands grip him, my hips arch up towards his hand.
It feels good, but I also want to show him just how much he’s affecting me, just how good it feels, how much more I want.
If he’s not going to let me touch him, then at least I should put on a good show for him.
He pulls back, studying my face as I lift my hips again.
I suddenly feel just that much more under a microscope, the stage lights of perception feeling hot and weighing me down.
He tsks at me, his eyes darting around my face.
“You’re performing.” His tone is slightly heavy, and there’s a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but concern is the predominant thing I see.
Still, the hurt is what sticks in my head.
I was trying to make him happy, to show him just how much I like him. “If I didn’t, it wouldn’t be…very…much of anything.” I chew on my lip, not sure how else to explain it. I wasn’t all that vocal in bed.
He arches a brow. “So?”
I blink in surprise. “What do you mean, so? It’s part of being a good—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.
It’s not true. I told you before, I want the real you.
If that’s silence, then fine. But something tells me it won’t be.
Last time, when I fucked you for half the night, I could tell you were too tired to do much performing after awhile.
That’s when I noticed the difference.” He leans in, lips brushing against my nose, my cheek, and down to my lips.
“You weren’t silent then. Your little gasps and breathy pants…
those are what drive me wild, leannán. Not whatever you think I want to hear. ”
My entire body feels electric at his words, but there’s a mix of shame in there, too.
I hadn’t even realized that I’d stopped masking last time.
It’d felt too good that I’d lost all sense of reason, including my masking capabilities, apparently.
But then, the shame ebbs and shifts into desire.
Burning hot and all-consuming, it steals my breath away.
Kerry smirks and shrugs his shoulders. “It seems to me there’s only one thing we can do. Make sure you can’t perform until you learn you don’t need to.”
My eyebrows raise, feeling dizzy at his vague words. “What does that mean?”
He climbs off of me and disappears into the bathroom. When he returns, he has some soft, silky ribbon attached to handcuffs, and a…
Jesus Christ. Is that a soft, plushy ball-gag? He’s going to remove any ability for me to put on a show, just like he said. I hadn’t realized he meant it literally.
He arches a brow at me. “Interested?”
I should say no. I should tell him this is too much, that I’m fine, that I just won’t perform again.
But I’m too tempted by the idea of not even being able to move or speak, so I can’t do anything but relax and receive it.
There’s no need to worry about what he thinks about how I’m reacting if he’s the one who tied me up in the first place.
“Y-yes, I’m interested,” I manage to choke out, feeling tingly all over and a tad lightheaded at even the thought of it.
I’d never given much thought to kinks. Never thought I needed to, it never seemed to apply to me when I was with previous partners.
It just seemed like extra work on top of something that was already kind of arduous for me.
But this…this was the exact opposite of that feeling. And it made my head spin.
Kerry doesn’t smirk victoriously or look smug about my acceptance. Instead, he just nods, a small smile on his lips like he’s genuinely happy to have found something that excites me.
His touch is tender as he restrains me to the bedpost. “This isn’t about control, Amy.
This is about you being free to let go. I want to make sure that you know this isn’t for or about me, this is about you.
So, the moment you’re not enjoying yourself, you tell me.
Tap me with your foot or spit out the gag and say something.
We’ll stop, reevaluate, and try something different or stop altogether. Do you understand?”
I nod, but he rubs my arms with both of his hands, his intense gaze demanding my attention.
“I need you to say it, leannán. I need to hear from you that you won’t stay silent if something bothers you or you don’t like something.
Not just tonight, but every time from now on.
Hell, not even in bed. You don’t need to suppress yourself any longer.
I need you to trust me enough to tell me. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”
I take a deep breath and nod, trying to clear my head enough to actually answer him. “Yes. I understand. I’ll tell you if something bothers me or I don’t like it. Sexually and non-sexually.”
He chuckles and lays a hand on my knee, rubbing soft circles into it. “Good. I’m glad. Not just if you don’t like something, but also if you just…prefer something else. Let me in, leannán. Share your mind and every whim with me.”
I’ve never had anyone want that from me before.
If he said this to me when we first met, I wouldn’t have believed him. He even did say this kind of thing to me, in bits and pieces. I wrote them off as niceties and things he thought he meant, but didn’t really understand what he was saying.