Chapter 30 Just Dues
Just Dues
“How do you feel?” His low voice rumbled quietly in my ear.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I accustomed myself to my temporarily acquired blindness. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Because when you stifle one sense, the others become more sensitively attuned.”
“I don’t know that I need to be any more sensitive.” I laughed nervously.
His hands fell to my shoulders. “Harley, if this isn’t something you want, we don’t have to do it. We can try another time.”
I wanted it. But I needed to see him. See his face, assess his level of arousal, assure myself of his willingness to be with me.
“I want to,” I assured him weakly. “I love the games we play.”
He gently tugged the blindfold off. “We’re not doing it if you’re not sure.” Giving me a half-smile, he prodded, “If this is something you want, why is it hard for you?”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked away. “It’s not.”
“Honesty.”
My eyes skittered back and forth, considering my options.
Honesty, theoretically, would bring us closer.
Every ‘game’ we’d played so far finished with a very happy ending. For both of us. I had no reason to believe this would be any different.
“When we’re together, and I can see your face…and your…” I circled my finger around his groin area.
“Cock.”
I blushed. “Yes.”
“Say it.” He grinned, tweaking my nipple.
I laughed and batted his hand out of the way. “Penis.”
His eyes bugged out of his head. He barked out a laugh before tackling me to the bed. “Penis? How very clinical of you!”
I laughed up into his smiling face as he hovered over me, still fully dressed. The man was beautiful. There was no doubt about it.
“I’ll help you out. When we’re together and you’ve got eyes on my face and my cock…”
My smile faded. “I can tell you want me,” I answered quietly.
The happiness leached from his eyes.
I turned my face to the side. “I’m sorry.”
With a finger to my jaw, he turned my head to face him. “I think, in light of what you said, I’d like to do this even more. With one adjustment.” His lips quirked with amusement.
“What’s the adjustment?”
His smile returned. “At any point, you can signal the need for reassurance, and I’ll give you my cock. My very hard, very happy, very enthusiastically participatory cock.”
I snorted out a laugh but nodded. “What’s the signal?”
“My name. You only have to say my name. Can you manage that?”
“Yes.”
He smiled into my eyes. “I’m going to worship you, Harley. And you’re going to learn to expect it as your just dues. I’m going to take you so far out of your head, you’ll need a map to find your way back.”
With each reassuring word, he eased me back on the bed, then tapped my hip to move me closer to the edge.
He stroked the length of my legs, easing the tension from my frame. “What do you think is going to happen as we get older, Harley? Do you think we’re going to get hotter?”
I snorted. “You probably will.”
He failed to rise to the bait. “I’ll lose muscle tone. My butt will get skinnier. So will my legs.”
He smoothed his hand over my hip to my stomach. “Is there going to come a time, say when your belly is loose from having my babies, that you’ll deny me the taste of your skin?”
Dipping his head, he dropped wet kisses over the soft mound of my stomach. “Will you deny me this sweetness?” he murmured against my quivering flesh.
My skin rippled with pleasure beneath his seeking lips.
Denying myself this pleasure would be criminal.
My poor little tummy had done nothing wrong, nothing to warrant such denial.
Straightening, his hands cupped my round hips. “How about when you gain weight with menopause? Will you push my hands away when your sweet flesh gives beneath my fingertips?”
I bit my lip.
He leaned over and pressed his lips ever so softly to mine. “Don’t. Don’t deny either of us these pleasures. You deserve what I’m giving you. And I deserve access to this body I’m going to worship for the rest of my life.”
He raised his eyebrows in question. “I’m going to make it so good for you, Harley. All you have to do is let go.”
I nodded.
He smiled.
Momentarily tossing the blindfold to the side, he wagged his eyebrows as he popped earbuds into both of my ears, then put one in his. “We’ll both be listening.”
He crawled off the bed and grabbed his bag off the floor. Inside were three new scented candles which he lit and placed around the room. Next, he took a small box out of the bag and placed it on the bed beside me.
With one hand, he pulled his tee over his head and dropped it onto the floor.
“What’s that?” I jerked my chin up at the box.
“New toys I bought for you,” he murmured, answering my next question without me having to ask.
He continued seriously, his eyes steady on mine. “These are the only toys I own, Harley. I dipped into your toy box for a few, and soon I’ll be supplementing our collection.”
He swept his palms soothingly down the length of my body.
“You don’t have to stay still or quiet. The only rule is that you can’t hang onto me until I’m fucking you, okay?”
I swallowed at the crass words.
Why did they sound so good coming from him?
If Paul had said that I would have felt used.
The realization hit me with the force of a wrecking ball.
Daire could fuck me within an inch of my life, tie me to the headboard, spread me out on his lap and finger me at work, blindfold me, play with me with any number of toys, and I would feel like a queen.
Because he revered me.
Maybe even loved me back.
“Ready?” He held the blindfold up.
I nodded, and he slid it over my eyes.
His lips brushed sweetly over mine. The sound of his zipper broke the silence, and he tucked my hand against his groin to feel his erection straining to be free.
“Okay?”
I gave him a squeeze. “More than,” I breathed, suddenly ready for whatever he had in store for me.
Gently, he grasped my wrist and stretched my arm up over my head and started his playlist.
The sensual beats of Two Feet’s Twisted melted the rest of my resistance. God, how I hoped I was ‘that type of girl.’
“Can you turn it up?”
The volume increased in tiny increments until I gave the okay.
Already I felt better.
Looser.
Convinced something about this song penetrated the segment of my brain responsible for orgasms.
And chocolate.
His hands rounded my shoulders and swept down the length of my body once, then again and again. With every pass, more tension eased from my muscles.
My breathing became deep and even, my body languid.
I stretched my other arm up over my head.
Offered him my vulnerability.
Was there anything I wouldn’t offer to this man?
No.
There was no part of me I wouldn’t give to him.
When his soft lips found my breast, I arched into his mouth, giving him more.
When his fingers trailed between my legs, my thighs fell open.
When his thumb brushed my bottom lip, my lips parted.
He moved away, his hands caressing my stomach and thighs. A thread of doubt weaved through the pleasure he delivered.
My body stiffened imperceptibly.
I refused to say his name. I would fight through this myself.
But he paused.
Moved to the head of the bed, turned my face to the side, and tapped my cheek.
I wasn’t sure what he wanted until he pressed the head of his cock against my mouth.
He hadn’t let me do this to him, not any of the times I’d tried, and I was about ready to beg.
I lunged forward, opened my mouth, and took him inside. I moaned around him as he throbbed in my mouth, proving his arousal, soothing my anxiety.
He pushed to the back of my throat.
I held my breath and swallowed around him, my eyes rolling back in my head at the filthy eroticism of the act.
I rolled toward him, reaching for his hips to hold him in place.
He caught my wrists easily, pinned them over my head, and flexed his hips.
I spread my legs wider, wanting him everywhere. A low moan vibrated in my chest.
He pulled out leaving me feeling bereft until his mouth hit my breast.
Pinching and rolling my other nipple between his fingers, he sucked my nipple into a tight bud before pinching it, too.
My eyes popped open behind the blindfold at the shock when I felt both of his hands pressed against my inner thighs, pushing my legs wider while the sting in my nipples persisted.
Nipple clamps.
The deep bass of the music, echoing the rush of blood in my head, thrummed in my ears. A feathery caress teased the insides of my thighs. Goosebumps spread like wildfire, and my head fell back as the whispery touch approached the apex of my thighs.
I panted in anticipation, knowing the touch would not nearly be enough but was better than the nothing he currently tortured me with.
But he skipped right over my mons and swept up my torso before circling the round fullness of my aching breasts, and continuing on to my collarbone, my throat, the line of my jaw.
My mouth.
Then moved back down, trailing the same sensual path to my breast.
Abruptly, he released one nipple from the clamp and covered it with his mouth, sucking the pain away before doing the same to the other.
Hot. Swollen. Needy.
A prickling sensation joined his mouth and rolled over my ribs to the dip of my waist, over my round hip, and across my lower abdomen.
I lay still, every nerve-ending alert and awash with sensation, not knowing where the next hit of pleasure would come from.
The prickly wheel rolled up from my mons toward my breasts. I waited, my lips parted with the anticipation of it rolling over my breasts only to feel the hot lash of his tongue opening my slit, his mouth covering my needy clit.
A rush of breath and sound broke from my throat.
I tangled my fingers in his hair, eagerly flexing my hips, rocking mindlessly against his tongue.
Does he still want to lick me?
I released his hair, my hips jerking to a sudden stop.
The mattress dipped between my thighs. His palms pressed them open roughly. The rasp of his hairy legs forced them open wider before he thrust inside me once, twice, three times, proving his arousal before yanking himself away from me and returning to my center to spear me with his tongue.
My hips flew off the bed.
I fisted the sheets in my hands.
He wanted it.
And I wanted him.
I wanted to taste him.
Suck my essence off his dick and swallow us both.
The thought of it sent heat swirling through my belly. My heels dug into the mattress. I pressed my pussy into his face.
He eased off, giving me a final lick, before leaving me poised on the edge of heaven.
I cried out in dismay, my voice unheard to my own ears.
Returning his attention to my breasts, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the clamps found their way home.
I reveled in the sweet sting, the heat that spread to my core until something cold and wet hit my most forbidden place. I froze as his fingers probed gently. Could I give him this? I wanted to. But could I? Like this? Blindfolded?
All epic love stories require a leap of faith.
Trust.
Pressing against his seeking fingers, I gave him that, too.
I felt rather than saw his approval.
No one had ever touched me there before.
A second finger joined the first, stretching me, my nerve endings screaming for him to stop while simultaneously gasping for more.
My nipples stung, my pussy wept, and I nearly cried when he withdrew his fingers.
Something hard and round tapped against my lips. I opened my mouth, the hard, round, bullet sliding over my tongue before tracing the length of my body, rolling through my slit, and pressing against that muscle he’d so recently teased open.
I blew out a breath.
This I’d fantasized about.
A fantasy I revealed all too easily after a few drinks at The Beaver Dam last week. And then he told me exactly how we would do it as I came around his fingers.
I forced myself to relax and push out as he slid it inside me, then held my breath until the pain gave way to pleasure.
Giving me no time to adjust to its size, he twisted it inside me before dropping his mouth, hot and wet over my center.
Twist.
Suck.
Nip.
My thighs began to shake.
Not a single thought in my head other than the burning desire to have him inside me.
As if reading my mind, his big body pinned me to the bed as he slowly thrust inside, making me impossibly full. Every inch of my slick channel pulsated around his shaft.
I wrapped my hands around the spindles of my headboard and hung on.
His chest brushed against my over-sensitized breasts.
His mouth took mine, his tongue filling my mouth with my own taste.
Music pounded in my ears.
My breasts stung.
Ass thrummed.
Pussy throbbed.
And he moved inside me, the fit so unbearably tight that the slightest movement sent shockwaves of sensation through my womb.
Arching his back, he tucked his thighs under mine, swept his thumb across my clit, and released one of the clamps.
My hands flew to the back of his neck, my gasp lost in the pleasure of the tiny bite of pain.
His mouth and tongue laved away the sting of first one, then the other.
My ears filled with the roar of the winter surf.
Heat and pressure surged with every push of his body inside mine.
His name, a chant on my lips, I dug my fingers into his ass to hold him to me.
I gave him everything, my body floating away.
He would give me this.
Lips, teeth, tongue, his grunts vibrating against my mouth, I cried out with my release, and milked every exquisite drop from him as his hips jerked to a stop and his muscles quaked above me.
One hand tangled tightly in my hair and the other whipped off my blindfold as he covered my face in open-mouth kisses.
Love in his eyes, his heart so clearly in my hands.
His devotions complete.