29. Tucker
29
TUCKER
“ I ’m telling you. This is what you need.” The thing is, I can’t be too pissed at Maya for digging her heels in and being stubborn about starting therapy. I don’t think I would like it if somebody not only told me I needed to go, but even chose a doctor for me. What else was I supposed to do? If I left it up to her, she would never take the steps to heal. “Remember. If you don’t like her or feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to go back. But give her a chance. Dr. Pierce is supposed to be a specialist in healing from trauma.”
Maya rubs her arms through the sleeves of her thin cardigan. “I just don’t know if I can go from holding everything inside too, like, sharing everything all at once.”
“And I’d bet you’re not the first person who ever felt that way. I’m sure she has lots of patients who have to take their time before they feel comfortable sharing.” I’m not sure what it’s going to take to convince her she is not broken beyond repair. Somewhere along the line, she got that idea, and it kills me because I know she deserves better. I hate to think I ever played a part in making her feel this way, even if I did have my reasons. They all seem kind of pointless now. I’m looking at her through fresh eyes, and I’ve seen for myself how bad her life got.
I took a step I can’t go back from, killing that bastard who was hurting her. I’ll never be sorry. I doubt she expects me to be. If there’s such a thing as judgment at the end of a person’s life, I doubt I will be judged harshly for rescuing her. The bastard had it coming.
And she has this coming, because it’s what she deserves. Feeling whole, letting herself off the hook for the shit her asshole father blamed her for. Now that he’s in custody and the case against him is underway, she won’t have to worry about him anymore. He won’t see the light of day as a free man ever again.
It’s time for a fresh start. It’s all I can give her and all I want to give her—I only need her to accept it.
“Okay.” Looking through the passenger side window, her throat works at the sight of a quaint, almost idyllic home that also serves as Dr. Pierce’s office. I promise to wait for her outside before watching her walk bravely up the driveway and knock on the door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She’s nervous but going through with it, anyway. I am so proud of her. I can barely breathe.
I’m not sure what to expect as I wait, screwing around on my phone while listening to music in the truck. Part of me wonders if she’ll make it through the whole hour or if she’ll leave early—but as the minutes pass, I feel a little more confident all the time. Finally, there’s movement out of the corner of my eye, and I look up to find her walking down the driveway wearing a faint grin.
“How did it go?” I watch as she belts herself in, and then lets out a deep breath.
“Honestly?” Finally, she smiles, and a weight lifts from my chest. “It was actually really great. She is so nice. And the room where she sees her patients is really pretty and comfortable, and it’s very homey and welcoming. I felt safe.”
I’m astounded. If it had been half that good, I would’ve been happy and felt like the money was well spent. I didn’t dare hope for this much. “So you think this is something you can see yourself doing again?”
“Definitely,” she tells me, beaming. “I mean, we didn’t really talk about all that much, but I want to, you know? I feel like she’s not going to judge me or anything like that, which is something I was worried about.”
“Good. That’s so good.” There are only so many nights she can wake up, shaking and on the verge of tears after having an ugly nightmare before she’s going to snap. If this helps, I don’t care how much it ends up costing. I would pay anything.
“You know, I could drive myself to these sessions.” Maya lifts an eyebrow at me after climbing into the truck once her tenth session with Dr. Pierce is finished. She goes twice a week, meaning it’s been more than a month since her so-called wedding. Every day, she gets a little stronger, and I know it’s because of the work Dr. Pierce is doing with her. She seems more confident all the time. I haven’t seen evidence of any more cuts on her body. And I check—thoroughly.
“I like doing this for you,” I tell her with a shrug as we pull away from the curb.
“At first, I thought you were driving me to make sure I went. You know, I’m won’t skip this. It’s been too helpful.”
“I get it. I just want to be here for you any way I can.” Especially since there are times when she comes out of a session wanting to talk about whatever she learned in the doctor’s office. The better she gets, the better I want her to get. I’m starting to crave this new, confident version of her.
“Thank you. Really, thank you for everything.” Her voice is heavy with meaning, and I don’t have to wonder what she’s thinking about. We never talk about it out loud, that ugly night, but it’s always there. Maybe one day, she’ll feel strong enough, but I am not going to push her.
It takes a few minutes for her to realize we’re not going straight home. “Where are we heading?” she asks, looking away from her phone, where I assume she’s texting Wren from the little smile she wears. Talking to Wren always puts her in a good mood.
“You’ll see.” Glancing her way, I find her frowning now. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about. I have a little something planned, that’s all.”
“A little something?” She arches an eyebrow, suspicious but intrigued.
“You’ll see soon enough.” This is in the name of healing, not to mention having a little fun. But I would like her to feel more empowered, like she’s in control of the situation, which is why I made arrangements with Lucian to bring her over today.
She goes stiff when she recognizes the building as we approach. “What are we doing here?” she whispers, gazing out at Lucian’s club. It’s as discreet as always—nobody would ever guess what goes on inside if they passed by.
But it holds memories for us, and our memories are colored by the different reasons we went there that night. For Maya, it was the night she thought she would hand herself over to a brutal, heartless stranger. She walked in there terrified, trying to force herself through it. I want her to have better memories now. “Relax. This is going to be fun.”
“Are you sure about that?” She doesn’t sound so convinced.
At least she stays in her seat while I park the truck, then turn to her and take her hands in mine. They’re trembling, a little clammy. “We’re not going to Hell. We’re going to Heaven. I already arranged everything. You know Heaven is much different, right? We’ll have safe words and everything. You can have control over what happens, and I will respect your boundaries.”
Searching my face with widening eyes, she repeats, “Really? Are you sure about this?”
“What kind of question is that?” Taking one of her hands, I place it over my growing bulge. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Don’t get me wrong—I intend on having a little fun with you. But it will be the kind of fun you have a say in this time. Think you’d be willing to give it a shot?”
Her teeth graze her lower lip, eyes darting back to the building. I’m not going to push. I’m not going to urge. She needs to decide for herself. “Okay,” she whispers with a nod. “Yeah. I want to do this.”
“That’s what I was hoping to hear.” I waste no time getting out of the truck, now buzzing with anticipation. Spending all that time sitting there, waiting for her to get out of her session, gave me the chance to do a lot of thinking. Fantasizing. I have plenty of ideas about how we will enjoy our time together.
We walk hand-in-hand through the door leading to what, not that long ago, was a symbol of Maya’s fears and the abuse she went through. As of tonight, all of that’s going to change.
Since everything’s already arranged, I only have to show my driver’s license to be led upstairs to the room set aside for us. As I requested, there is a bed present, covered in piles of pillows for her comfort but also featuring restraints at all four corners. A nearby table holds an assortment of toys and tools, all of which makes Maya gulp as she studies it, while I have a brief discussion with the girl who led us up here. She leaves us alone after a moment.
“Are you all right with this?” I ask, approaching Maya as she stands next to the bed. She’s breathing a little faster, color flooding her cheeks.
“I think so. So long as we can use a safe word, like you said.”
“How about you say yellow if you want me to slow down, and red if I have to stop?”
Her nervous frown turns into a faint, hopeful smile. “That works.”
“Good.” Looking her up and down, I allow the change to come over me, my nostrils flaring as my breathing deepens. “Now take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”
Something sparks in her eyes, and she wastes no time doing as she’s told, stripping down until she stands in front of me in all her naked beauty. My dick is almost painfully rigid by the time she lies down on her back, her chest heaving, her tits moving up and down with every quickened breath. Fuck, I am so hungry for her, always so hungry. This is all it takes. And knowing she’ll be totally at my mercy as I fasten the fur-lined leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles is like a drug. My head is spinning a little by the time I stand up straight, admiring her helplessness.
Her legs are spread, giving me the perfect view of her pretty, pink pussy. It glistens in the overhead light, making my mouth water, giving me no choice but to rub myself through my jeans. It won’t be enough soon, but I want to take it slow for her sake.
“Look at all of this,” I whisper, reaching out to stroke her bald lips until they darken and swell in anticipation. “What should I do with all of this?”
On the table, I find a flogger with leather straps dangling from the end. She watches me pick it up and test the weight, moving it through the air until I’m satisfied.
“What are you going to do with that?” she whispers, with a catch in her voice.
“This.” Holding it over her tits, I let the leather brush her nipples until she squirms and writhes and pulls against her restraints. There’s a wet spot forming on my shorts by the time I trail the flogger’s ends down her stomach—watching her muscles clench and flex at the feel—before I finally drag it slowly over her pussy. Her lips are glistening now, her juices flowing as one tiny whimper after another forces its way from her throat.
“Do you like that?” I ask, smiling at the way she writhes so beautifully. “Does that feel good?”
“God, yes.” Her voice is the faintest whimper. “Yes, yes.”
She thinks that’s good?
A series of brisk taps against her lips makes her skin turn red, and her whimpers sound more like squeals. “Oh, god,” she moans, already breathing so fast. It’s so easy to work her up like this. There are so many things I want to do.
Like waiting until she’s swollen and dripping, begging for more before I take a hold of one of the vibrating dildos on the table and turn it on. Her eyes fly open—wide and searching—while she pants for breath. “What are you doing?” she asks, and I answer by inserting the wide, purple head between her lips. A moan cuts off any other questions she might have, her hips rocking while she fights to find relief. She’s not going to get it anytime soon.
“Oh, fuck!” she screams when I work the toy inside her. Every inch makes her mouth fall open further, takes her moans and turns them into ragged cries. I have to take off my jeans to give my dick some relief instead of caging it in by the zipper, then peel off my shirt. The wet spot I already felt is getting bigger the longer I watch her buck like a wild horse, overcome by the intensity of the vibrations deep inside her.
While the dildo vibrates in her cunt, I use a smaller vibrator and tease the tip of her clit with it.
“Tucker!” she screams, her face beet red, contorted in something between pleasure and pain. “Oh, god! It’s too much!”
“You know what you need to say if I have to back off.”
She’s locked in indecision for a second before shaking her head. “No, don’t stop. I need to come!”
“Be patient,” I croon, chuckling at her frustrated growl—but once I press the vibrator against her again, harder this time, her broken moan wipes out everything else. I can barely breathe; my heart’s pounding out of my chest. How can I help it? She’s sobbing, screaming like a tortured animal, finally going stiff with her back arched before a tremor runs through her from head to toe.
That doesn’t mean I’ll stop. Oh, no, it only means I work the dildo in and out, fucking her with it, now using the smaller vibrator against her puckered asshole. “That’s right,” I grunt over her cries, climbing onto the bed, kneeling between her spread legs. “Let’s see how much you can take. Let’s see how good you can be for me.”
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” she shouts, pushing against the vibrator. Her entire slit and crack are slick with juices, making it easy to work the vibrator past her hole and inside her ass.
“Oh! Oh, my god! Oh, it’s too much, it’s so good!” And suddenly, she goes stiff again. “Yellow!” she shouts, and I pull back on the vibrator a little while the dildo goes still, buried inside her.
“What can I do?” I ask, barely getting my breath under control long enough to voice the question.
“It’s just too much. I can’t handle it. Maybe just something in my ass.” There’s something wicked in her eyes when they meet mine, and the sight of it makes me ooze again, soaking the cotton shorts, painfully hard. “While you fuck me.”
“Oh, yeah?” That sounds good to me, but I’m not satisfied yet. She hasn’t come enough. So instead of giving her what she thinks she wants, I get off the bed, selecting a butt plug and lubing it before slowly inserting it into her quivering asshole.
“Oh, so full,” she moans as I work it in until nothing but the jeweled base shows. “That’s good. Oh, I like that.”
I like what it does to the rest of her, the way it makes her body move like molten lava, rolling like a wave, flushed, and so sensitive. All it takes is running my fingers over her ass cheeks and down the backs of her thighs to make her suck in a breath that ends in a moan.
This time, I withdraw the dildo and use another clean vibrator instead, teasing her lips, dragging it through her slick folds, using the flogger on her tits. “Oh, my god… don’t stop…” she begs, even as she flinches and gasps with every strike from the leather strips. Soon, she flushes red, with faint stripes standing out as I increase the intensity a little at a time, barely holding onto control for her sake. I can’t take it too far. I don’t want to hurt her.
Right now, she is completely lost, totally under my control. Her ragged breathing and the furious bucking of her hips tells me she’s getting closer, so I up the intensity of a vibrator and press it tight against her clit while flicking the leather over her heaving tits in a quick rhythm that makes her scream again. She’s straining, pulling on her wrist cuffs, her face almost purple by the time she cries out one more time and comes for me.
And while she does, I’m here, kissing her striped flesh, running my tongue over the skin I just marked. “I don’t know… if I can take… anymore…” she whimpers, lifting her head so I can tip a bottle of water against her lips. She takes a few gulps, then offers a weak smile. “Thank you.”
I feel like I should be the one thanking her. Trusting me like this, letting me live out this fantasy of having her tied up, just as much under my control but completely with me this time. I realize it’s more fun to watch her move, to watch her fight to be free, to witness lust wash over her and turn her into something else, something hot and passionate.
There is so much more I want to do. So many ways I want to experience her.
Right now, I’m happy to settle for pulling down my underwear and sinking deep into her quivering heat because I’ll die if I’m not inside her. “Yes…” she whispers, while I hold myself up on my knees, lifting her hips to angle her better. Our eyes meet, and she smiles a little before I pull back and slam home again. I can’t be gentle right now. I’ve waited too long.
“This is what your pussy wants?” I grunt, my fingers digging into her hips as I take her harder, faster, rocking the bed with the force of my strokes. “My cock? Is that what you need?”
“Yes!” she whimpers, staring up at me. “Fuck me! Fuck me, hard, Tucker, make me come!”
I’m going to, but more importantly, I get to hear her decide what she wants. I feel it in me, the way my heart is opening to her, and I’m not afraid. I don’t want to fight it anymore.
“Yeah, take my cock. Take it,” I grunt as the pressure builds in my balls. I don’t think I can hold on much longer now that she’s getting tighter, so tight, grunting with every breath, her teeth clenched.
“I’m going to come,” she warns, high-pitched, breathless. “Come with me…”
I don’t think I have a choice, because the tingling at the base of my spine is spreading through me, sending bolts of pleasure through my body before the insane pressure from my balls makes me paint her insides with my cum. My roar mixes with her ecstatic shrieks as I fill her with one spurt after another until it spills out between us, running down her crack, coating my balls. I’m completely spent, empty, happy. I’m actually happy.
And that happiness turns to the closest thing to joy I’ve ever known when I open my eyes and see her smiling at me. We got through it together, just like we get through everything together. The way we always will. Because I am never letting her go again.