38. Colton
THIRTY-EIGHT
COLTON
TWO MONTHS LATER.
Our little sanctuary opened one month ago.
The detective working Forrest’s case put us in touch with a social worker in Colorado, who connected us with women seeking respite after rescue.
Currently, in our main home, we’re hosting two trafficking victims. Sarah and Selene.
They were trafficked to the same location, and neither of them have families to return to. From the time we gained acceptance to house them to when they arrived, we had one week. Watching Kinleigh get their rooms ready has been special and I can see how much helping these women recover means to her.
Outside of us, it means everything.
She brings fresh flowers into the house daily. She’s taught them to make bread and even watches them monitoring her sourdough starter. They ride horses together and do yoga, and once a week, we take them across the pasture to Carsyn’s, where Nash and Gen are still living. We eat a meal together and play Monopoly, we light off fireworks and drink hot cocoa around a small bonfire.
The days we go into town for our appointments with Dr. Milovich, they come with us. Sarah and Selene both see the other Dr. Milovich, and after therapy, we get ice cream.
The women have already made so much progress here. When they first came, Selene didn’t speak much. That hit home for me. Though I’d seen the destruction firsthand, seeing another woman so damaged from Forrest that she couldn’t speak nearly gutted me. But our sanctuary has brought back her voice, and our help has helped her.
Kinleigh helped her.
On the property not far from the main house is our house. We call the sanctuary the main house because it’s bigger than our home, with ten rooms. It’s equipped for long-term care for the women who need it, and though it means something bad has to happen for our sanctuary to be at capacity, I know when and if the time comes, Kin will handle it with grace and care.
At our place, we’re lying in bed, enjoying a lazy Sunday morning together, talking quietly, soaking up the warmth of the spilling sun. My body aches from a week of hard work with Nash out on the pasture. We may be in charge of this land now but we’re still actively working each day. Last week we rebuilt the fences after a bad storm.
After captivity, I’m still recovering. I find my lower back sore and achy after work, but it’s getting better. Turns out, life isn’t like the movies. If you’re beaten, starved and drugged for a month, it takes a while to bounce back. I weave my fingers through Kinleigh’s and bring our joined hands to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
Last week was hard.
Two weeks back, Kinleigh missed her period. Two pink lines made her hysterically happy, and I wiped her tears and held her tight.
Not more than six days later did she miscarry.
We went to the hospital and while there, we were told that this can happen unless I get a vasectomy. We can have ectopic pregnancies, miscarriages, all sorts of things. The cruel fact remains, Kinleigh has damage done to her and while conceiving is technically possible, carrying to term is the part that is almost impossible.
Neither of us are ready for me to get a vasectomy, but we’re just putting off the inevitable and opening ourselves up to more pain. That’s what the doctor told us, at least, when we couldn’t come up with a solution right then.
I know Kin is still devastated, and no amount of healing others or playing Monopoly or getting fucked into the mattress will change that.
But I can be the place she breaks if she needs it.
“I love you, Kinney,” I whisper, rolling over to cage her in. She swallows thickly, her throat bobbing, eyes watery.
Beneath me, she spreads her legs and my waking erection slides into her easily. She is swollen and wet, and throbs all around me as I bury myself to the hilt. “You wanted my cock this morning, didn’t you?” I tease softly, licking my way up the soft column of her throat.
A heavy breath slips past her lips as she nods. “Yes.”
Winking, I remember the promise I made her years ago, out in the grass, the first time we made love. I told her we’d try everything, and Kinleigh is always ready to make love. In fact, last night I had her in this very bed, this exact spot, on her hands and knees, bouncing back on my dick so beautifully.
This morning, I’m ready to busy her mind and make her feel good. “It’s yours,” I say, rocking to my knees, settling on my haunches. “Cuff me.”
She sits up, blinking, her blonde hair disastrously tangled. “You want it?”
I do like it. I enjoy the high that comes after, when freedom is returned to me and I can celebrate both my victory in fighting my fear and my incredible orgasm.
And I know she loves sex with me. I do.
But I also remember a certain flare in her irises when she rode me, as if it weren’t the control of her trauma but more so… just her sexual preference.
In the years where I’d slept around, she’d been a prisoner to Forrest. At age twenty-six, she’s not been exposed to the things most women her age have. Cuffs represented prison to me, but to her, they meant control. They meant safety. And fucking me meant all those things too. And pairing heady things like that with love and closeness, I understand why she likes it.
I like it, too.
“I do,” I tell her, switching positions with her as she clambers up and off the mattress.
A few seconds later I’m on my back with my wrists shackled to the headboard, my cock a damn tower between my thighs, and the most beautiful woman in the world smiling at me, completely naked.
She reaches down and parts her pussy, touching herself a little. My mouth goes dry and my cock bobs. My whole, beautiful wife is so erotic she doesn’t even understand what she does to me. Scrambles my brain, short-circuits my limbs, all I can do when I see her touch herself is stare and drool and dream of coming inside her.
We got married under the camphor tree. Her feet were bare and her hair was down, all wavy and gorgeous ending just below her breasts. I wore my favorite boots and hat, and her dress was white and simple, with one slit up her thigh. I adjusted myself more than I’d like to admit.
Being married to Kinleigh is like waking up to the best day ever, every single day. I thank God for her every day.
She sinks down on my cock and I let out a wall-shaking groan. Now that we have our own place, I don’t have to worry about being quiet. And everything she does to me makes me loud, feral, goddamn wild. The little flex she does all around my cock when she’s adjusting to my size makes me crazy.
With her hands on my chest, she rides, rolling her hips a little before rocking some, lifting to her knees and dropping down again, taking my cock the way she wants.
I think about stepping on barbed wire more than once, keeping my orgasm at bay for as long as possible. I love watching her.
Her moans intensify, and when sweat slips down her sternum, highlighting her tight core, I warn her. “Kinney, you’re too sexy, baby. I’m not gonna last much longer.” I want her to come first. I imagine a rice cake with peanut butter with no water to drink after.
She lifts off, gripping my cock, her breasts swaying as repositions herself over me again. When she sinks down once more, she’s much tighter, so much tighter. The pressure intensifies as heat fills my cock and ribbons out of me in jolting, needful shots. “Yes, oh, Colton, yes,” she murmurs, her thighs quivering around me as she slows, her orgasm crashing into her as I fill her ass up.
When her body ceases its heavy pulsing and her breath steadies, she smiles at me and slowly lifts off. My hot orgasm dribbles from her, coating my cock and groin. Never thought I’d be into that, but goddamn. I let out a low whistle and shake my head. “Well, baby, I think I found my new thing .”
She giggles, swiping a towel over my body before bringing it between her legs. Duckwalking, she makes her way to the headboard and frees me. I love that she brings my wrists to her lips and kisses all the places the cuffs rubbed.
I wink at her. “You can cuff me and make me fuck your ass anytime you please, sweetheart.”
A flush crawls up her cheeks and she gets shy for a second. Uncuffing my other wrist, she finally says, “Okay.” She pulls one of my t-shirts on and my cock throbs. “Want some water?”
I nod and tuck my arm beneath my head, using my other hand to scratch my chest. “Yes, please.”
She leaves the room and my phone rings. I answer and listen after I get to say “Hello” and “Yes, this is him.”
Kinney returns with two glasses of water, one in each hand. She mouths the question “Who is it?” but I just blink at her, listening to the woman on the other end of the line.
A moment later, I say, “Yes, and that’s perfect. Thank you.”
The call ends and Kinney passes me my water. “What’s the matter?” she asks, sipping her water. Her hair is up now, and her eyes are clear, so crisp and blue. I love her light freckles and her sweet voice. My chest constricts.
“There’s a baby. They’re on the way with her now.” I swallow hard against the nerves and amazement bubbling up from my chest. “She’s six months old. Recovered from an operation like Forrest’s.”
Kinleigh’s hand goes to her wedding ring, then her sternum, next her stomach. Her eyes well. “Really?”
“Oh my god,” I breathe, scrambling out of bed, pulling on sweats and a t-shirt. “We don’t have anything, we don’t have a crib,” I say, suddenly aware of all the complex items needed to care for a baby.
Kinney stops me with her hands on my biceps, rocking to her toes to plant a comforting kiss to my lips. The chaos in my veins settles from her affection, and I take a breath. “We’ll order all that from Baby Bucket and Carsyn and Nash can go pick it up. Okay?” She kisses me again. “Our dream is coming true.”
She didn’t think it was possible, but I knew it was.
Where there’s a will…