28. Did You Make Him Suffer?
DID YOU MAKE HIM SUFFER?
Fable
Ever since Noah left, I’ve been in Wes’s suite, holding Bear on my lap in a chair near a tall window. It overlooks the backyard and the Hudson River. Tree branches dance in the breeze as evening claims the sun. A dozen staff linger in the mansion, yet I feel utterly alone.
The door opens, and Wes walks in, spotting me at once. He looks like sin and royalty in his fitted dress pants, button-down shirt with the collar open, and suit jacket.
Those bluebell eyes find mine, and the energy in the room shifts. My heart swells, and my mood lifts instantly. “You’re home!”
“I texted half an hour ago that I was on my way.” He scans the small table for my phone. It’s upside down, and the ringer is off.
“I missed it.”
“I missed you.” Eating up the space between us, he strips off his jacket and tosses it onto the nearby chair. I love the way he looks at me, like I hold the key to his happiness.
The darkness that hardened him when we reconnected that first time at Mr. Ashford’s, er, Lachlan’s is gone. He lowers to his knee and takes my hand, kissing the top.
“I’ve been meaning to do something properly,” he begins, a twinkle in his eyes. His citrus spice scent surrounds me in the best way. “Fable Sarina Farrington…”
I don’t know what shocks me more, that he’s proposing or that he knows my middle name. I never told him.
“You saved my life in more ways than one,” he goes on.
“You rescued my heart when it was too black to feel love. Your kindness and ingenuity kept me from dying. Your wit kept me company while I healed. Your beauty stole my breath the first time I saw you, and again when fate stepped in and put you in my path for a second time. I’ve had to fight for everything I have now, and I hope I’ve earned the right to have your hand in marriage, because nothing would make me happier.
Before you, the world felt monochromatic, but with you, it’s filled with color.
I’ve never belonged to anyone else, but I promise to be yours forever.
You are my savior. Will you give me the greatest honor of all and let me be yours? ”
Tears sting my eyes. “I’ve never been anyone’s savior.”
“You’ve always been mine.” He pulls a royal blue box, the words ‘Garrard, London 1735’ etched in the leather. It creaks when he opens the lid.
Bear flinches at the sound and notices Wes. He stretches and turns, rubbing his nose on the box.
“Hello there, little guy.” Wes pets his head. “What do you think? Do you think your mummy will have me?”
I’ve been so engrossed in them I haven’t yet looked at the ring. Tucked in royal blue velvet sits a gold ring covered in sparkling diamonds. A halo of smaller diamonds surrounds a large pear-shaped citrine stone.
“It matches your eyes,” Wes says. “I remember you weren’t quite fond of their color when we first met. This is to remind you of how beautiful they are to me because they belong to you.”
More stinging tears. I sniffle, trying to keep it together. Bear’s ears go back with annoyance. He jumps to the floor, headed for his bed under the other chair and privacy.
“If you don’t like it,” Wes says. “I won’t be—”
I silence him with a kiss. “I love it. I love you.” The saltiness of my tears lingers on my tongue.
His beautiful face brightens with my confession, eyes filled with so much joy. “To be clear, that’s a yes? Yeah?”
Wes
She giggles. “Yes.”
I set the box on the table and slide the ring onto her finger. “I helped design it, but I had a diamond fitted too, in case you want the center jewel replaced. I almost requested a moss-covered stone for the center,” I tease.
She giggles again.
It’s the best sound, almost as incredible as the way her gorgeous face glows when she’s this happy.
I run my fingers through her silky hair, and pull her to my lips, kissing her passionately with my tongue before going deeper and getting caught up the way I often do when it comes to Fable.
“How do you feel, my love?” I murmur across her lips, noting her faster breathing and heated skin.
Her cast is still on, but if she’s up for it, I’d be willing to tie her to my bed.
The doctor I hired to make house calls says she’s able to do whatever she feels up to now.
Her cast gets removed tomorrow. I was going to wait, but…
“I feel horny,” she says and giggles. “Like really horny, and my nipples are so sensitive.”
My dick jumps to attention. Fuck me. “How would you like me to help with that?” I love being able to talk to her in my accent with no mask and clearly stare into her eyes, watching every little tell. The way her pupils dilate, her cheeks flush, and the rosy hue that spreads up her neck.
She glances at the bed. “You can help by doing naughty things to me.”
My angel and vixen.
In a swift move, I scoop her up from the chair and place her on the bed, sideways. She gasps, knowing what it means. I secure her wrists in the silk sashes and do the same to her ankle and cast.
“Good?”
“Good.” She pants, already desperate for it. “But… my clothes.” She glances at her grey loose-fitted pants and dark green t-shirt, the fabric so delicate it’s almost see-through.
New clothes in any color of her choice are on my to-do list. I want to see her in a variety of things that she was robbed of throughout her life because of her selfish family. But right now, I want to see her in nothing at all.
From the nightstand, I remove scissors from the drawer and run them down her torso. “Trust me.”
She shivers with desire, so I take a moment to gently circle the steel tip around her beaded nipple, hidden under her shirt. She sucks in a sharp breath. “Very sensitive. I’m going to have fun with that Fable.”
I position the scissors at the hem of her shirt. “May I?”
“Yes,” she breathes, restless in her binds.
I cut her clothes off and run the cold tip of the scissors around her bare nipple. She moans. “Wes. I need you. Now.”
“Now?” I tease her. “But we’re just getting started.
” She looks stunning, her honey skin flushed and on display for me.
The small patch of hair at her pussy is not something I’m used to, and a turn-on.
I like it in ways I hadn’t expected. But then it’s on Fable, and I love everything about this woman.
I bend to her clit and kiss it. At the same time, I run a finger up her glistening slit.
“Mmm.” I moan and lick her from my finger. “You taste delicious, Fable.”
She writhes and fusses, “Wes. Please. Fuck me already.”
“I’d love to, darling, and I will, but first…
” I lower to her dripping pussy and enjoy her with my tongue as I strip off my clothes.
Her hips thrust toward my mouth, chasing it, but her restraints keep her from getting what she thinks she wants.
Fable wants the orgasm, but she gets a better one—one worthy of her—because of the foreplay and how I make her wait.
She’s so responsive, if I were to shove my cock in her now, she’d come in an instant.
It wouldn’t nearly be as potent as it could be.
Fable
My skin burns with desire, my body so ready it literally aches for relief.
I pull against the sashes, loving them but also hating them at this moment.
His tongue flicks my clit, and his fingers slide inside, pumping in and out.
I feel my core grip them tight, trying to draw them deeper.
So close. He pauses, and I almost yell at him.
He hasn’t touched my nipples again, even though I’m dying for him to.
The way he circled them with those cold scissors nearly made me explode.
“I don’t want the ties anymore,” I blurt. “Cut me loose.”
He smirks up at me, those blue eyes sinful. Dark blonde locks fall in disarray around his face, shadowing one eye. I’ve never known a sexier man, with a sexier body. He’s massive compared to me, covered in lean muscle and smooth skin that makes my mouth water.
“You don’t want that. Yet.” His hands glide up my torso to my nipples, circling them but not touching where I want.
“Wes,” I hiss in frustration.
He brushes the tip of one sensitive bud, then pinches it.
I moan. “Your mouth. Use your mouth.” I’m dying.
Blessedly, he does what I ask, licking my nipple and drawing it into his mouth. I spread my legs wider and buck my hips, realizing I’m free of the sashes at my ankles. When?
“Do you want my cock, sweet Fable?” He kisses my other nipple.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
“Do you want to be free?” He kisses a trail up my neck, killing me more.
“God yes!” I pant.
In a quick move, he unties me and lies back on the bed, pulling me onto his lap so I straddle his waist, his thick cock under me but not in me. His hands rest on my hips. “Is this what you want? Freedom to do what you wish?”
It takes me a second to get my bearings as I sit there with him trapped beneath me. My hair spills down my back, tickling the curve of my butt.
Wes drinks me in, my breasts, my face, my everything. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”
Shit. Does he plan to make me climax from his words?
“Take me, Fable. I’m yours.” He grabs the headboard behind him, letting me know I can do whatever I want. My plan is to impale myself on his magnificent cock, but then another idea comes to mind.
I catch his gaze and inch down his thighs, surprised my cast doesn’t snag on the silk bedding. When I’m where I need to be, I take his cock in my small hand and lick the top. Wes’s eyes spread wide, desire flaring in them. His biceps flex as he grips the headboard tighter.
I take him as deep as I can and suck on my way up, as if he was my favorite flavored lollipop. I’ve done this to him before during parties, but he always held back.
I work him faster, letting him know he can do what he needs to, hoping he takes the hint. His hand lands on the back of my head, holding me steady as he pounds his cock into my mouth like he’s lost control. I fight the urge to gag and focus on his sexy grunts and the desire they stir inside me.
“Fable,” he groans. “Sorry.”
Sorry? I look up.