Chapter 13 Making Arrangements
Roman
Ren concludes her frazzled explanation of free use kink with a big breath, as if she were holding hers the entire time. She presses her lips together and waits expectantly.
I know what free use is, not from any personal experience.
In fact, everything I learned was against my will from Cash .
. . and Niamh was born nine months later.
I haven’t given it much thought since then, no matter how interesting I found the concept, because there didn’t seem to be any point.
There was no one to practice it with, nor was I looking for someone. Until now.
So far, she’s only asked me one thing: have I heard of free use. But how that relates to her thanking me . . . I want to hear her say it.
She gives me a pleading look, her cheeks burning pink, begging me not to make her spell it out.
She bobbles her head and whispers, “You know . . .”
“Do I?” I cant my head to the side. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t, or maybe I want to hear you say it.
” My hand finds its way to her thigh, and I spread out my fingers excruciatingly slowly as I continue, “Say that you want me to use you for my own pleasure. Say that your perfect little cunt is mine to lick or fuck or simply use to warm my cock. Whenever I want.”
I glide my hand higher up her leg, over her dress. Her breathing grows shallow. My palm slides to her inner thigh, and she eases her legs apart. Her teeth bite into her lip with anticipation.
And then I stop. My fingertips an inch from her pussy. “I do need you to say it, Ren. And not just for my own desire to hear those filthy words off your lips, but because this can only work if you’re able to articulate exactly what you want.”
“You’re right.” She sits up taller. “I do want you to use me. I want to give you whatever you want to take.” She reverses the words I said to her in the barn. She lifts her chin, gaining confidence. “I want to feel dirty and desired. Used and owned, but treasured.”
I resist the urge to finish this conversation right here and make her feel as used and dirty as she’s asking for. Instead, I ask, “How long until you consider me properly thanked?
“Hmm.” She thinks. “How about until Christmas?”
It feels like so little, but at the same time, it’s more than I ever expected to get with her. More than I ever thought I’d allow myself.
“Deal,” I agree. “Which means that for the next five days, when you’re awake, you’re mine, but what about when you’re asleep?”
I don’t think she’s aware of it, but at my question, she presses her legs together, bringing my hand closer yet to where she craves my touch the most.
Still, she gives it a moment of thought, which I appreciate. I want her going into this with her eyes wide open clear.
“Yours,” she breathes.
My cock swells at the thought, slipping inside her wet cunt while she dozes peacefully, rocking into her slowly and gently so as not to wake her.
“But only if we go to bed together,” she adds. “No sneaking in through my window”—her lips quirk—“yet.”
“And when we’re in public?” I lightly drag my index finger up and down, just barely brushing the dress fabric over her pussy.
“Yes.” She draws out the single syllable, then adds, “If-slash-when you think we can get away with it.”
“Like a barn in the middle of a gala?” She nods, excitement in her eyes. My middle finger joins my index. “Or the empty back room of a restaurant?”
She inhales sharply when I apply a little more pressure so it’s no longer just the fabric I’m brushing against. Then she exhales. “Yes.”
“So I could just pull you onto my lap.” I mirror my words with action and instantly feel my control fray a little more with her ass now grinding against my cock.
“Yes,” she says again, relaxing back into my chest as my hand splays wide over her plush stomach.
With my other hand, I brush the hair off her neck and dust my lips up her velvet soft skin. “Remember, you can always say no or stop and I will. Immediately. But I want another word, just for us, that you can say anytime, anywhere, and everything stops.”
“I can’t imagine ever wanting you to stop,” she says breathlessly, a haze of lust already heavy in her voice.
I smile into her skin. “All the same, I want that word.”
“Um, okay . . .” Both of my hands rest on her thighs and I slowly push them apart. “It’s really hard to think when you’re . . .”
“Touching you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re right. I’ll stop—”
“No,” she protests, and I chuckle.
“You didn’t let me finish. I’ll stop until you give me that word.”
“Okay, okay,” she says hurriedly. “What about giraffe?”
“Giraffe it is.” I seal it with a soft kiss to her neck. “Now open your legs for me, sweet girl, and put them on either side of mine.”
When she does, her ass cheeks hug my cock, making me quietly groan. She seems to melt at the sound and mumbles lustfully, “God, I want to feel you inside me.”
“Fuck, sweet girl, you really are desperate to be used, huh?” She nods and rolls her hips in my lap teasingly. I clamp them still, my fingers digging into her full, round flesh. “That’s too bad because I had other plans for you tonight.”
I keep one hand firmly on her hip to remind her who’s in control and the other disappears under her skirt. Her thighs are silky and warm, just the feel of them making my blood pump harder.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this needy pussy or the way you came for me so sweetly, drenching my fingers like a good fucking girl. I want you coming in my lap again, just like that.”
“Um . . .” She hesitates. “I don’t think you understand.”
“What don’t I understand?”
“That you can use me for your own pleasure.” There’s a hint of insecurity in her voice. I want to quash it immediately. I’m sure it took a lot of courage to bring up free use in the first place. I want her to keep that confidence.
“What you don’t understand, Ren, is that making you come, getting to watch how my touch makes you fall apart . . . that is me using you for my own pleasure.”
“Oh,” she says, like the idea never occurred to her. That little stunned noise makes me want to destroy every man who made her feel like her pleasure didn’t matter.
“Now, I’m going to finger fuck your perfect cunt, and the only thing that is going to stop me from making you come is your safeword.”
“Yes,” she says with quick, short nods of her head.
I fight the instinct to praise her because even though I love the way she melts when I do, I want her to understand that saying yes isn’t what makes her a good girl. It’s her trust and honesty that do.
“And just so you know,” I whisper in her ear, “the first time you take my cock, it won’t be at some restaurant where I’m rushing just to get you home and fuck you properly.”
My fingers find the lace of her panties and her breath hitches. “If I had known you were so eager to be used, I would have told you not to bother with these.”
I stroke her swollen lips over her panties, getting even harder at the feel of the fabric dampening. “In fact, as much as I love the idea of you soaking your panties, from now on, when you’re with me, you don’t wear any.”
“Okay.” She nods, almost timidly.
I wonder if it’s because she’s uncertain of her answer or if, like before, she’s simply distracted by my wandering fingers. So I pause and ask, “Do you like the sound of that? Always being ready for me to fill you anyway I choose? Always ready to be bent over and fucked filthy?”
I finally slip my fingers into her panties and stroke her slit. She shudders, her answer coming out in a shaky whisper. “Very much so.”
“Good.” I hum into her neck, then rake my teeth down it.
Finding her slick clit, I circle it with two fingers, and she arches into me. I lave my tongue over the pulse at the base of her neck then suck a bruise into the delicate skin. She moans. My cock jerks.
Fuck, maybe I really do want to bury my cock in her hungry little pussy right here after all.
But then her leg twitches, a quick jolt, and I know without a doubt that this is all I want to do. “God, you’re so responsive.”
She stiffens, sitting up a little off my chest. “I’m sorry.”
I twist her in my lap so I can look her in the eyes. “What for?”
“Twitching, wriggling. Sometimes I just can’t help—”
“Ren.” I stop her right there. “I love that your body can’t help but show me how you feel. Getting to learn what you like, what makes you feel good, is an honor.”
Her eyes soften, and she places her hand on my cheek before pressing a light kiss to my lips and spinning back around so her back is to my chest.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur and slip back into her panties.
She trails her hands up and down my arms as I play with her clit. It’s not long until her breath gets choppier and her moans sweeter, needier. She begins to rock into my touch, chasing her pleasure.
“That’s a good girl. Keep riding my hand, baby,” I encourage her, kissing her neck and nibbling on her earlobe.
“Oh, yes, yes,” she mewls. Her legs start intermittently squeezing mine.
“Don’t forget, this pussy belongs to me and only comes with my permission.”
“O-okay.” She nods, her body practically trembling in my arms.
I almost laugh when the waiter choses this moment to return for our glasses and she curses under her breath before thanking him with a quaking voice. When he leaves, she groans needily, every muscle in her body tensing.
I don’t hide the teasing in my tone. “Is there something you want to ask me, Ren?”
“Can I—oh fuck—” Her hips buck. “Can I come? Can I come, please?”
“Hmm.” I delay answering her, and she whimpers. She really is trying so hard. She holds her breath. “Yes, come for me.”
She exhales and shatters. Her hands clamp down on my arms and her back arches. “Oh my god.”
The way she melts in my arms after fills me with pride and contentment. I try to focus on that instead of the hint of dread reminding me this is only for five days.
1. Play “Body”—Rosenfeld