Chapter 17 #2
The waiting and not knowing is killing me, but not in the way that I thought it would. It’s turning me on and my skin prickles with the awareness that he’s near and I’ll feel his touch again soon.
I don’t have to wait long for his gentle caress to trace down the side of my body as he moves away.
He teases me, circling around my nipple with a fingertip but never touching it, and I want his touch badly.
I’m so lost in trying to follow his touch, track his footsteps, that I don’t realize what he’s doing until I feel the padded velvet of a cuff wrap around my ankle and hear the clink of the latch being locked into place.
I’m a little more prepared with the next cuff.
What I do not expect is the quickness with which he uses a bar between my feet to push my knees up, so that my heels are close to my backside.
I’m splayed wide, held firmly in place with my legs spread erotically.
I bite my lip when I hear the rustle of clothing and wait.
The bed dips by my feet as Rhys climbs up and kneels between my legs.
He grabs me by the chin and places a hard kiss against my mouth.
I open to him needing to feel him, to taste him, and he does not disappoint me.
Though the kiss is shorter than I’d have liked.
“You’re doing so well, wife,” he says and then he bites down on the space between my neck and my shoulder.
Not enough to hurt, but it makes me gasp and arch against him as he kisses and licks his way down my chest. He sucks my nipple deep into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the tip, making me want to clench my thighs together in spite of the cuffs and the bar make it so that I can’t.
When he moves to the other breast, I feel my pussy clench around nothing, feeling empty when what I want is his cock.
The mattress shifts, depressing below my feet.
I smell his shampoo and aftershave before I feel it dips in on either side of my waist where he leans some of his weight on his hands.
His tongue swirls around my belly button and I let out a groan.
Then he moves lower and lower, dragging his lips down my belly, across my thigh and back, before he finally settles in between my thighs and I feel him part me with his thumbs.
He licks the very core of me. Rhys spears me with two of his thick fingers and strikes that spot deep inside me as he flicks his tongue over me again and again.
With his shoulders blocking my knees and the bar keeping my feet apart, I’m helpless to do anything to slow this down, or speed him up.
My legs are shaking and a fire is licking up my body.
“Rhys,” I plead but he just keeps going with no relief in sight. “Rhys, Rhys, Rhys…”
He plunges his fingers into me over and over, coaxing that fire to burn higher and hotter inside me and when I think I can’t possibly take it anymore, my orgasm crests and I cry out.
Rhys surges up and over me, covering me with his body, as he drives deep inside me.
My pussy stretching to accommodate him while I come only makes it better, stronger—somehow even more—and I cry out again as wave after wave of pleasure continues to roll over me as he plunges in and out of me.
With the palm of his hand cupping the back of my head, he rides me hard and fast, tucking his face next to my ear. I can tell that he’s close by the filthy words he rumbles in my ear.
“Fuck, but this cunt was made for me,” he groans. “It’s mine.”
“Yes.”
“Mine to eat and mine to fuck,” he groans.
“Yes.”
“Mine to fill.”
“Yes, Rhys. Yes.”
He holds me tight as he pumps once, twice more, and then plants himself deep and fills me just as he’d promised.
Rhys clings to me until he catches his breath.
He pulls back from where his cheek is pressed against mine and crushes his mouth to my lips, licking into me and making me lose my breath.
He releases me back to the bed, caressing my breasts as he sits back on his heels, and I feel some of his cum slip free as I lose him.
He pushes me up the bed a few inches so there’s a little slack on my arms and says, “Hold on, hen.”
I don’t have a second to prepare as he grabs the bar between my feet and flips me over to my belly, making me gasp. He slides my knees and arms underneath me and I rest my cheek on the smooth fabric of the sheets, feeling sated and relaxed after the longest orgasm of my life.
Until I hear a faint buzzing sound…
I gasp and move to rear up but the restraints and a firm hand placed at the center of my back keep me down when Rhys reaches around my hip and touches the vibrator to my already sensitive clit.
Moisture pools between my thighs, and I feel his hard length at my opening just before he drives deep inside me.
He guides me up to my knees, my arms stretched out in front of me. I’m firmly impaled on his heavy cock with one of his arms banded low around my hips, the vibrator pressed to my clit, and the other lodged between my breasts. He pinches my nipple, driving me closer and closer to another climax.
“Rhys…” I bounce on him as much as my tethers will allow me, needing any friction I can get. “I’m so close.”
“I know,” he chuckles. “I feel your tight cunt milking my cock.”
“Please let me come. Please, please, please…”
He clicks a button on the vibrator ratcheting up the intensity as he pinches my nipple one more time, throwing me over the edge.
I scream as I come. Rhys tosses the toy to the floor and drops me back down so that my knees are under me, but my cheek and chest are pressed flat to the bed.
He drives deep within me, setting a punishing rhythm as he fucks me through another climax before thrusting deep one last time and calling out my name.
When we’ve caught our breath, he pulls out of me and gently turns me to lay on my back.
He carefully unties each arm take time to rub the pins and needles out of each one.
Then he unwraps each ankle, tossing the bar and cuffs aside.
The clatter when they hit the floor fills the heavy silence.
What he doesn’t do is take off my blindfold.
Instead, he turns his body to face in the same direction as me and grasps my knees, wrenching them apart. “Here’s your proof.”
My body stiffens and every warm and fuzzy feeling I was having after so many orgasms is long gone.
It’s as if a bucket of ice water has been dumped over me.
His arctic tone is so cold, so angry. I know it’s not directed at me, it’s for the room full of people who required more proof that I’ve been bred.
I hear fabric rustling as he grabs some clothes, and then the silk sheet is wrapped gently around me before he lifts me into his arms like a bride and carries me out of the room.
“Rhys,” I whisper.
“No’ yet,” he says as he moves quickly through the castle.
“But honey—” I start.
“No’ yet, hen.”
I hear a door open and close behind us as he continues to stride through the castle, but this space feels familiar, safe even. He sets me on my feet, and I hear a shower turn on. Rhys pulls the tie from over my eyes and I have to blink against the sudden bright light.
“Christ, I’m sorry,” he says. He’s got his dress pants barely done up and that’s it. His shirt must have been left behind.
He kicks them off and pulls me into the shower. Soaping me up from head to toe and scrubbing me even harder.
“Rhys.” I try to stop his movements. “I’m okay.”
He doesn’t say anything but turns his ministrations on himself and scrubs his body like he’s angry, only this time, at himself and I can’t have that. It slays me to watch him hurt like this, to blame himself. He didn’t do anything wrong. We’re in this together.
“Rhys, honey, stop,” I plead.
“No’ yet, hen,” he says, shutting off the water. “I’m hanging on by a thread.”
He reaches for a towel and gently dries me off before roughly turning the towel on himself. I pull his hands into mine and still them. Instead, I take the towel and step in front of him, watching him as he stares at me, and I dry him off with the same care and attention he used on me.
“Are you done yet?” he asks, taking the towel from my hand.
“I think so,” I answer honestly. “Are you done being angry at yourself for something you did not orchestrate?”
“Just because I didn’t write the old as fuck laws does no’ mean that I’m no’ angry about them,” he says.
“But to answer your question, I’m no’ mad at myself, I’m mad that they saw you like that.
I fucking hate that you were to be publicly bred like a prize horse and that something private between us that should have been beautiful was made to be dirty. ”
“And now you’ve made us clean again.”
“I had to,” he says. “Can you bear to have me touch you ever again?”
“Of course,” I tell him. “I love the way you touch me.”
“That’s good.”
“If you’re up to it, you can touch me again now,” I tease. “But then again, you are pretty old. It’s all right if you can’t get it up again any time soon—” My snark is cut off with a swift swat to my backside, and I squeal as he tosses me over his shoulder.
“Old,” he grumbles, swatting my ass again and making me laugh. “I’ll show you who’s old.”
Rhys tosses me down on our bed and covers me with his body.
Relishing the privacy in the moment, I happily wrap my arms and legs around him and cling to him. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“I’m going to make love to my wife,” he says and then he proceeds to do exactly that.