Chapter 42
jeremy
No one was up yet, and I was wrestling with the world’s worst instant coffee—the kind Dirks’s family must’ve kept in the cabin for emergencies.
“Do you think it’s weird that we’re out here and there’s only one bed?”
I looked over. My Luna was sitting up in bed, blonde hair a wild halo, blue eyes still soft from sleep, pajama shirt twisted around her.
“I assume they’ll think I was on the couch.”
“He wants to tell them,” she murmured.
“I think it’s probably best if he does,” I said.
She smiled, nodding toward the counter. “Coffee?”
I poured two cups and carried them back, handing her one before sliding in beside her.
“Coffee in bed during a snowstorm . . . romantic, right?”
She laughed, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “Yes, baby. So romantic.”
I needed to try. She was right. It was like she’d ripped the bandage off everything I felt for her—that she was my family. My own. My only. The one person I’d burn it all down for.
“They’ll probably make us breakfast, so we should get dressed soon.”
“One hour?” she murmured.
“Sure.” I tucked deeper into the sheets, and she set her coffee down on the nightstand.
“Jer?”
“Mmhmm,” I said, watching the snow drift outside the window.
She hesitated. “You ever thought about having kids?”
“Not happening.”
“Not even with me?”
I shook my head. “If you ever wanted kids, Lune, that’d be with Dirks. He’s the stable one. The one who’d actually be good at that shit.”
She smirked, eyes glinting. “Okay, fine . . . then I’ll settle for something you are good at.”
My gaze slid to hers. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Think you can make me come before the coffee gets cold?”
“Yeah, honey. I can do that.”
“Perfect,” she said, throwing back the covers and padding over to her luggage. “Good thing I brought the right toy.”
I watched her rummage around, not even pretending not to look at the way her pajama shorts clung to her ass. She turned, grinning, and before I could ask what she meant, she tossed something at me.
A ball gag.
I caught it midair and stared. “Luna . . . we are on a family trip.”
She laughed. “What? I thought you said you liked dessert in bed. I’m simply spicing it up . . .”
I shook my head, biting back a groan. “Pull off your shorts.”
She hooked her thumbs in the waistband. “Yes, Sir.”
I stood up and got out of bed, meeting her where her pussy was on full display.
“Such a filthy little thing,” I murmured, dragging my palm over the curve of her hip, then cupping her bare pussy.
“Getting me hard before breakfast. Knowing Dirks is gonna be out there wondering why we’re late.
” I gave her clit a sharp pinch that made her gasp.
“You need to remember who you belong to.”
I guided her toward the bed and pushed her down onto it. She sprawled, hair fanning out, nipples already pebbling against the thin pajama top. I flattened my hand over her chest, rubbing slow circles until my thumb and forefinger found one stiff peak and rolled it.
“Jer . . . ”
“All it takes is me playing with your tits, and you’re halfway gone.”
“Not . . . true—” she gasped, but her thighs rubbed together.
I leaned in, closing my mouth over one nipple through the fabric, sucking hard until the wet heat of my tongue soaked the cotton. “Tell me that again,” I said against her, “when I’ve got you coming just from this.”
She whimpered, already arching into me.
“Ball gag,” I ordered, pulling back.
She reached toward the nightstand, fingers curling around the strap, but I caught her wrist before she could lift it to her mouth. “Uh-uh. This is mine to give you.”
I held it in front of her face for a moment, watching her lips part, a faint sheen of spit already on her bottom lip from how she’d been panting. Slowly, I brushed the smooth red silicone across her mouth, letting it drag over her skin before pressing it past her lips.
“Open wider,” I told her, and she obeyed instantly, tongue pushing against it as I eased it in until her mouth stretched around the ball.
“That’s it,” I murmured, threading my fingers into her hair to tilt her head just enough for me to see the way it fit between her teeth.
I pulled the strap around the back of her head, the leather whispering through my hands before I tightened the buckle against her hair.
“There,” I said, brushing my thumb over her spit-slick lower lip. “Now I don’t have to hear your bratty little mouth . . . just your pretty sounds.”
I slipped two fingers in beside the gag, pushing past her cheek until her tongue stroked against them. “Suck.”
She moaned and obeyed, drool already sliding out the corner of her mouth. I slowly fucked her mouth with my fingers, then deeper, watching her gag against the ball until more spit dripped down her chin and onto her chest.
“Messy little thing,” I murmured, wiping my fingers on her jaw before grabbing her and flipping her onto her stomach. “On your knees. Ass up.”
She scrambled into position, hair falling forward, the gag muffling every pant.
I lined myself up and pushed in hard enough that she cried out against the gag, her nails digging into the sheets. I didn’t give her time to adjust. Instead I grabbed her hips and fucked her deep, the sound of my hips slapping against her ass filling the room.
“You get wetter every time my cock thrusts into you, don’t you?”
She tried to nod, but I smacked her ass—hard—making her jolt forward. “Answer me.”
She mumbled through the gag, a garbled Yes, hips pressing back against me.
“That’s my girl,” I said, spanking her again, watching her whole body jump. I grabbed her hair, forcing her arch deeper, my cock driving into her.
She gagged again when I reached around and pressed my fingers into her mouth beside the gag, letting her choke on the combination of spit and moans. I kept her right there, pumping into her, dragging her shirt over her nipples, and spanking her ass until her legs started to shake.
“You’re not going to come until I tell you.” I warned her.
She whimpered against the ball, rocking harder against me.
I slammed into her once, twice, the bed rattling beneath us. “Now,” I growled in her ear. “Come for me.”
She broke instantly—shaking, muffled screams pouring out from behind the gag while her pussy clenched around me.
She was still trembling, gagged cries muffled against the mattress when I pulled out of her, my cock slick and throbbing.
“Stay down,” I ordered, one hand between her shoulder blades, the other shoving her shirt up over her spine until it bunched at her shoulders. Her bare back was flushed, goose bumps prickling along her skin.
I stroked myself over her, the sight of her—face turned to the side, gagged and gasping, ass still arched high for me—pushing me to the edge.
“That’s it . . . keep that perfect ass up for me.”
My breath went ragged, my hips jerking as I came across her back in thick streaks. It painted her skin in messy lines.
She made a low, muffled sound against the gag, and I spread my release over her with my hand, smearing it into her skin possessively.
I gently brushed her hair off her face and tapped the buckle at the back of her head. “You keep this in until I say otherwise,” I murmured.
Her eyes fluttered shut, a faint hum of surrender rolling through her. I guided her to sit back on her heels, staying right in front of her so she didn’t feel alone in it. I smoothed my hands over her thighs, down to her knees, then back up slowly, rubbing warmth into her skin.
I grabbed a towel and slowly wiped her clean. Her breathing steadied under my hands, the rise and fall of her chest evening out. I pulled her shirt back down, and when I was sure she was ready, I sat back on my heels and undid the strap, easing the ball gag from her mouth.
The instant it was gone, she sucked in a deep breath, jaw working, lips wet. Her eyes shimmered with tears.
“T-thank you. Thank you for giving that power to me.”
I cupped her face in both hands, thumbs brushing her damp cheeks. “Always, honey.”
I leaned in, pressing my forehead to hers for a heartbeat before pulling away. “Okay, let’s shower and dress quickly. Breakfast is waiting.”