Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Tess yawned, waking slowly. Alone in the big bed she hugged her pillow, turning to a more comfortable position on her side.
She vaguely remembered Rory kissing her goodbye as he told her he would try to get home early.
Although his intentions had been to take off the rest of the week, duty called.
A big case he was working on had some unexpected snags and there was no way Rory would let the perpetrator slide through his fingers.
Reaching back, Tess gently touched her bottom, grimacing as she felt the still warm, slightly puffy flesh.
The chances of her running away from Rory again were slim to none if this was what the outcome would be.
There was no way in hell she wanted another spanking like the one she had received last night.
Even if she were able to evade him temporarily, Tess had no doubt that he would find her and even less doubt he would follow through on his promises.
Rory did not make idle threats. Not that he would have a hard time finding her.
Tess did not believe she would be able to stay away from him for longer than a few days, if that.
She loved him, plain and simple despite his antiquated ideas.
If he said he would make her wish leaving had never entered her head, he meant it.
Having no idea what ginger root was used for in regard to punishment, Tess was determined to look it up online.
Depending on what she found, she would steer clear of any recipes calling for ginger.
Pushing away the embarrassing memories of her vulnerable bottom receiving his wrath, Tess concentrated on the happier moments of last night.
She was going to be married, she grinned, hugging herself, with all that entailed—a home, a family, a husband.
There would probably be children, although they had never discussed that.
Rory was a doting uncle and would make a wonderful father.
Tess dreamed of having a child of her own, someone who would love her always, a child she could shower with all the love and affection she had in her heart.
Somehow, it did not seem quite so important right this minute.
She still wanted children, but later, after she had some time to fully embrace her new life.
Last night Rory carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and stripped off every stitch of her clothing.
Rolling her onto her tummy, he rubbed soothing lotion into her blazing bottom before turning her over.
Stripping, he settled between her thighs, took both of her wrists in one huge hand pinning them to the bed over her head, and plunged into her.
He stretched her mercilessly as he held still, buried to the hilt, his eyes focused intently on hers.
Gasping, Tess felt her pussy contracting, trying to accommodate his incredibly hard cock.
This was the first time he had taken her without a lubricated condom, and she could feel every ridge and pulse as he controlled her movements easily.
As her pussy relaxed and creamed, she tried to arch her hips, but he refused to move and her sore bottom kept her wiggles to a minimum.
Tess could not believe what was happening, with no foreplay whatsoever, she was beginning to pant, her body praying for the slightest movement of his cock within her.
She could feel moisture leaking from her pussy and she searched his face trying to understand.
There was only the slightest grin around his mouth before he threw his head back and groaned, plunging a little deeper now that she had softened.
Her rhythmic contractions took her completely by surprise.
Pinned by his cock holding her sore bottom to the bed and her captured wrists, her body was going to move the only way it could, internally, clamping down on his raging hard on over and over again.
He was incredibly focused and when she started pleading, he remained firm until she resorted to begging in Spanish.
Finally, Rory began to move, but not in the way Tess wanted.
Instead of fucking her in the long firm thrusts she craved, he bumped her; little short strokes that pressed her clit firmly against his pelvis and stroked a small section of her womb.
He never pulled out far enough to appease her, but continued to brush against that spot inside over and over until she lost her mind, cuming so hard he struggled to hang onto her.
Weeping in relief, she sagged onto the mattress, ignoring the soreness of her butt.
Rory allowed Tess only a moment of respite before he leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
Screaming, Tess glared at him. Rory released her wrists and began thrusting fully and firmly into her, as her scream became a deep moan.
Various insults flew from her lips which Rory ignored.
Higher and higher she spiraled, clinging mindlessly to him as he gave her everything he had denied her.
Every inch of her was vibrating with lust, her hips rising and falling to meet each thrust.
Feeling her contractions beginning around his cock, Rory thrust powerfully, his hands grasping her bottom, holding her firmly against him as he poured his seed into her milking pussy.
Pleasure raced from his throbbing balls outward to every cell in his body.
Collapsing onto the bed beside her, he kissed her shoulder, his hands running over her hair.
Spooning her, cupping her breast, Rory felt his heartbeat slowing to match hers.
“Babe,” he whispered, just before he fell asleep. “Did you just call me a pimple on a whore’s ass?”
Her contented groan didn’t really mask her giggle or answer his question, but when she wiggled closer, pressing her warm ass against him, it didn’t seem so important.
* * *
Smiling, Tess got out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
After she showered and got a cup of coffee from the pot Rory brewed earlier, she surveyed the kitchen.
The cupboards looked a little tired, the flooring needed replacing and the paint was dull.
The big window to the backyard was perfect and she loved the grid that was inside the glass making it much easier to clean.
A lilac tree grew just beyond the window and Tess knew its heavenly scent would fill the kitchen in the spring.
Holding her coffee, she strolled through the house, taking in each feature.
There was a big stone fireplace in the living room that obviously had not been used for some time.
Tall built in bookcases on each side were empty except for some sports magazines and pictures of Rory’s nieces and nephews.
Paint, new carpeting and drapes would make a big improvement.
The only furniture in the whole room was his ugly old recliner, an scarred end table and the massive TV.
As sparsely furnished as the house was, it gave Tess no clue what his preferences would be as far as style, but she did know how to paint.
Rinsing her cup in the sink, Tess grabbed her coat and purse and headed to the hardware store. She still had a long weekend before she had to be back to work on Monday, hopefully Rory would help her decide on paint if she picked up some samples.
* * *
Del sighed in relief while walking up the sidewalk to the office.
Bridget was waiting for him to let her in and today she wore a long black skirt.
Thank God, she decided to dress appropriately.
Ridiculously high heels aside, at least he would not spend the day trying to avoid looking at her ass in a mini skirt.
Her long heavy jacket covered the rest of her nicely, and Del wished there was a way he could force her to wear it all day, it would certainly make his life easier.
“Morning, Winston,” Bridget greeted him cheerfully. “No tickets today I see,” she continued with a grin.
“Certainly not, Ms. O’Malley,” Del replied crisply, unlocking the door. Entering the office, Del set his briefcase and umbrella down, turning to help her with her coat. Her perfume wafted gently to him and he tried not to breathe through his nose. Damn, she smelled good.
Moving to the closet he hung up both their coats. Bridget’s back was still towards him as she put her travel mug and purse on the desk before turning around.
“You’re still coming for Thanksgiving Dinner next week?” she asked. “My mother is delighted, and looking forward to meeting you.”
Del was speechless. Oh, she had worn a long skirt all right.
He believed it was called a pencil skirt or some such nonsensical name, and it hugged her figure from her waist to her calf.
The blouse she wore was sheer ivory silk with an ivory lace corset clearly visible underneath which was trying very hard to push her delectable breasts up and over the low neckline.
Long sheer sleeves ended in cascading lace that dripped over her hands.
Her hair was up, but little tendrils escaped, making her neck look long and inviting.
Bright red lips matched her painted nails reminding Del of the pin-up pictures from the 1940’s.
Holy hell, Del thought, and I thought yesterday was bad!
A small smile played around Bridget’s lips as she watched Winston begin to sweat, tugging impatiently on the tie that frequently seemed to be choking him.
Didn’t it just do a girl’s heart good to have this kind of reaction from a straight-laced man?
Approaching him in feigned concern, Bridget rested her dainty hand on his chest.
“Is anything wrong, Winston? You don’t look so good,” she observed sweetly.
“Good grief, Ms. O’Malley. Do you own any clothing that isn’t suggestive of …?”
“What are you implying, Winston? I hope you’re not thinking I dressed this way for you? This is perfectly acceptable attire,” Bridget insisted, planting her hands on her hips.