Chapter 17
Melody
I stand in the room that will now be my new office and ponder the location of the furniture. Brody and Dallas have moved it all twice. Without one single complaint. They are standing by the door now, waiting patiently.
I’m half tempted to test my man to see if he has a snapping point. Ridiculous, of course, but if I’m really going to marry this guy in short order, don’t I want to know if he’s the sort who will lose his temper when I can’t make up my mind about something?
They brought my desk chair from my office at the cottage. That was important. I sit in it for hours. It’s a state-of-the-art ergonomic computer chair. The desk currently in here was moved from another room on this floor. The biggest one the men could find. I need a lot of space when I’m working.
I’ve got it positioned sideways in the room so that I can see out the huge windows and also see the doorway. They brought in bookshelves and an armoire, too. The room is huge. All of the rooms in this mansion are big. I guess that’s how they built mansions over a hundred years ago.
I picture some area rugs to warm it up. Maybe some artwork. The view of the grounds behind the mansion is amazing and will get better with time as more gardeners are hired to return this monstrosity to its former glory.
Will I still be here?
I turn to face Brody and Dallas. “I think… Hmmm.” I tap my lips as if contemplating another furniture move. This shit is very heavy.
Neither man looks the least bit annoyed nor put out.
Brody smiles. “I want it to be exactly perfect for you, little pixie. If you want us to move things again, we will. You can change your mind tomorrow, too.”
Dallas points toward one wall. “When you’re sure where you want things, we’ll knock a hole between this room and your bedroom and add a door so you don’t have to go out into the hallway to get from one room to the other. We’ll do the same on the other side of the room to attach the nursery.”
An odd sense of peace washes over me. I should probably run from this house and never look back. I should be totally overwhelmed by how fast I got here and all this talk of babies and marriage. In a way, I am. But I also feel at home.
Does Brody?
I know he’s considering the possibility of staying here instead of returning to San Antonio. But is that what he really wants? I don’t want him to resent me down the line for making him feel like he had no choice but to move to Wilde.
The way he’s smiling at me makes my knees weak.
He adores me. Maybe I should move to San Antonio.
I could escape the current impending madness.
But wouldn’t it just follow me to another city in another state?
Maybe next time I could tell people I’m a stay-at-home wife.
Make everyone think I don’t work instead of having them intrigued and trying to guess who I am.
We’re going to work this out. I know it. And I haven’t touched Brody in like ten minutes, so I run toward him. Luckily, he braces himself so that when I jump into his arms, he catches me.
He hugs me tight against his chest as I wrap my arms and legs around him.
Dallas leaves the room without a word and shuts the door.
Brody swings me around and rubs my back. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but feel free to leap into my arms anytime you want, little pixie.”
I lean back so I can lock eyes with him. “The room is perfect. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it. But anytime you want to move things, just ask.” He carries me over to the desk and sits me on top. I haven’t unpacked anything yet, so the surface is still bare. My office equipment is in boxes by the door.
I keep my legs around him while he kisses me. I’m glad I’m still wearing the pink dress. After years of wearing comfortable leggings and tank tops, I should invest in more dresses. I like the way it feels when the only things between me and Brody are my thin panties and his T-shirt or jeans.
“Someday you’re going to fuck me on this desk,” I tell him.
He growls. “Temptress.”
I giggle. In spite of what happened this afternoon, I feel lighter now that we’re here.
The mansion provides a sense of safety. Even though we’re alone, I like knowing there are so many people in the house.
If I want privacy, all I have to do is come to our rooms and shut the door.
If I want to be around people—family—I can easily hunt down any number of them.
I bounce a bit. “It may be old, but it’s sturdy.”
Brody chuckles. “You’re so naughty.”
I tip my head to one side. “You know you want to.” Will it help if I tempt him?
“Oh, I definitely want to fuck you, little pixie. And I will. Millions of times. Starting after you say I do.”
I push out my bottom lip. “You and your no-sex-before-marriage rule. So barbaric.”
He kisses my neck. “Effective, though. It worked for my brother and cousins.” He lowers me lengthways onto the top of the desk. “How about if I remind you why you’re going to marry me?”
My pussy clenches at the suggestion. I think this is a great idea, so I’m not going to complain.
Brody takes a step back and taps his lips. “Hmm.” He turns toward the box of office supplies.
I have no idea what he has in mind, but his creativity is one of the things I love about him. Sure enough, when he returns to me, he’s carrying an extension cord.
I giggle. “Do you think I need to be plugged in?”
He chuckles. “I think you need to be plugged. Is that the same?”
“No. That’s the opposite.” I twist my neck because he has rounded to the end of the desk at my head.
“Give me your hands, naughty temptress.”
I lift them over my head, already breathing heavily. I feel vulnerable as he wraps the cord around my wrists and then bends down to tie it off to something. Maybe one of the desk legs.
This is the first time he’s restrained me other than with his hands. We bought the fancy nylon system for under the mattress, but we’re not in the bedroom right now. He’s improvising.
Suddenly, I’m thinking he and his brother should take a sledgehammer to the wall between these rooms first thing tomorrow.
“How does that feel?” he asks as he rounds to my side.
“Good.” My chest rises and falls. My breasts feel heavy. My pussy is pulsing.
Brody moves to the end of the desk where my knees are bent over the edge. He lifts them high, parts them, and drapes my spread legs over the sides.
I whimper as he bunches my dress up, slowly revealing my white panties. With my feet dangling, I have no traction, but I still arch my chest as his palms slide under the smocking to cup my breasts.
“Fuck, you’re sexy, Melody. You like being restrained, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pinches my nipples before pushing my dress higher, exposing the swollen buds. When he bends over to flick his tongue over one, I cry out. It’s shocking how much hornier I am now that I don’t have the use of my hands. I write this kind of stuff, but I’ve never experienced it.
After teasing both my nipples back and forth, he kisses a path to my belly and lower. He holds my thighs down with his palms. “Are you still comfortable, baby?”
“Yes, Sir,” I breathe out.
He drags his nose over the gusset of my panties.
“I’ll never get enough of this. I’m going to order a hundred pairs of white cotton bikini panties for you.
That way, I can change them throughout the day when they get wet.
I love nuzzling your pussy over the top, and I love how much you enjoy it even more. ”
“We’re going to need more dresses…” I mumble.
“Oh yes. Those, too. We’ll order some as soon as I finish my snack.”
For a moment, I don’t know what he’s talking about. We’re due downstairs for dinner soon. And then I realize what he means. Or he makes it clear for me when he drags my panties to the side to expose my pussy before sucking my folds.
It feels so fucking good when he plasters his face against my pussy. Who knew? Certainly not me. I’ve been writing sexy scenes for years, and I’ve never had anyone go down on me before Brody.
The weirdest thing is that I’ve nailed this experience in writing time and again. Brody is better at this than any fictional hero I’ve ever read or written. I’m so close to orgasm already that I can’t breathe. People don’t come this fast. It should take a while. But when Brody puts his mouth on me…
I cry out when he shifts his attention to my clit. My body seizes, and I hover in that amazingly fantastic place I get transferred to right before an orgasm.
When I come, my eyes roll back. I think I’m screaming. I can’t hear myself or anything else. I’m under water. Waves of pleasure keep coming and coming until they finally slow down, and I ease back to Earth.
“My girl likes to be restrained,” Brody whispers as he kisses his way up my body.
She really does.
“After dinner, we’re going to put some of those toys we just bought to good use. We’ll see how loud you scream when I secure you on all fours and hook your teats up to a pump.”
A rush of blood fills my clit at his words, making me desperate. He’s so damn perfect. It’s hard for me to believe this is real. He’s giving me things I didn’t even know I needed. And I want more. Why would I not agree to marry him? I’d be a fool to let Brody get away.
I need to tell him I’m willing to go to San Antonio. I will. Later. When we have more time. I don’t want him thinking I have any reservations about us or that I wouldn’t do anything for him.
Brody eases my dress over my breasts before untying me. He helps me to sitting and inspects my wrists. “They’re a bit red. Can I use one of the drawers in your desk, baby?”
I frown. “Sure. What for?” I’m not following his sudden change of subject.
He kisses the inside of my wrists. “I’ll keep some safer restraints in here for times like this.” He smirks.
I roll my eyes and nod toward the connecting wall. “How about you take a sledgehammer to that first thing tomorrow? We can live with the hole for a while.”
He laughs. “Did you forget my specialty is construction, little pixie? I’m pretty sure I’m capable of installing a door before lunch.”
“Good, but I really need to work in the morning. Maybe you could do it after lunch? If you work on that while I’m writing, I’ll be too distracted staring at your ass to get any words written.”
His smile. It’s award-winning. “I bet I have some low-hanging jeans. I could also work shirtless. How does that sound?”
“Sexy as fuck. But after lunch.”
He kisses me. “We should go downstairs. You have two options. Either you eat dinner with those wet panties on or none at all. I am happy to take them off and put them in my pocket.”
I squeeze my legs together. He’s so filthy. I love it. “I’ll keep them, thank you very much.”
He shrugs. “Your choice.”