by Gemma James
“You’d better make me come long and hard before you unlock me.”
“You think you deserve to come?”
“I think you’re going to want me to come.”
“Why would I want that?”
“I promised I’d be gentle with your ass.” He licked his lips. “If you don’t fuck me like you mean it, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Oh, boy.
If he kept talking like that, I might lose my nerve. I scrambled from the bed and returned to the bag of tricks I’d dropped on the floor inside the door of the bedroom. Digging through the various implements of torture and pleasure, I settled on a solid rubber ball gag. I also grabbed a flogger. For some reason, approaching him with these foreign items in my hands made me question my ability to go through with this.
Don’t back down now. Do it right or don’t do it at all.
Sitting astride his chest, I pushed the rubber ball to his lips. “Open your mouth.”
“Jeez, Kayla.”
Shifting positions, so I was able to reach his cock, I gripped the handle of the flogger and brought it down on his throbbing, wet tip. He cried out in shock, every muscle in his body spasming.
“Take the gag, or I’ll keep striking your prized possession.”
“You’re my prized possession.”
“Open your mouth,” I demanded, pressing the gag to his lips once more.
He fought me for a while until the fifth strike landed with the kind of force that drew a high-pitched cry from him. Breathing hard, he gave in and parted his lips. I wound the strap around his head and fastened the buckle, my pulse skittering at my throat.
He was mine.
Unable to move.
Unable to break free.
His eyesight taken.
His voice silenced.
With a sigh of satisfaction, I mounted him and positioned myself over his erection, holding shy of his tip for thirty seconds before taking him deep inside, inch by slow inch.
He moaned, writhed underneath me, his body a powerful machine disarmed by my longing to conquer. His hips took over, held hostage by his current state of mind. They wouldn’t stop thrusting. Right when I sensed him teetering on the edge of orgasm, I jerked up and let his cock slip free. The gag made anything he said unintelligible, but I was positive he slung muffled obscenities at me.
This was going to be hell for him and heaven for me. I counted to sixty, one palm pressed against his chest where his heartbeat thundered, then I sank onto his cock again and rode him to the next edge.
And the next.
There were an infinite amount of edges on this night when time ceased to exist. I let my head tilt back, my short hair brushing the back of my shoulders, and rolled my nipples between two fingers.
“Do you want to know what I’m doing right now?”
I took his stifled moan as a yes.
“I’m playing with my nipples. Pinching them hard, Gage.” Taking control from him was empowering. Exhilarating. I could do this until the sun rose.
But two hours later, my resolve wavered. Sweat drenched us both. I’d ridden him slow and steady the whole time, pulling off whenever he came close to blowing his load. But I was getting antsy. I wanted to feel his lips under mine, our tongues clashing together in mutual madness, and when I came again, I wanted him to take the plunge with me.
If that made me weak, then so be it. I found more satisfaction in pleasuring him than hurting him. Leaning forward, I unbuckled the gag and tossed it on the floor.
“You’re in deep shit, Kayla.”
“Shh,” I said, placing a finger against his mouth. His ragged breaths puffed against my skin. “Don’t make me put the gag back in.”
“I hope you enjoy a red ass.”
“I’m only doing what you gave me permission to do.” I removed the tie and watched him blink me into focus. His deep blue eyes trapped me, dragged me under. I was sitting astride him while he couldn’t move, but I was the one submitting now.
With a quick thrust of my hips, I impaled myself.
“Fuuuuck…” He bucked, angling up to meet me. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I whimpered, my mouth colliding with his, and our tongues tangled as we joined in a new tempo.
The dance of languid fluidity.
“So fucking good,” he rasped. “You want control? Take it. I’m all yours.”
“What will you do if I untie you?”
“Do it and find out.”
Deliberating between having him exactly where I wanted him, and being exactly where I wanted to be, I ran my fingers along his bicep. “If I release you, no anal.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“I don’t mean ever, I just mean tonight.” I bit my lip. “I want something else, Gage.”
“You’re a demanding little thing tonight, aren’t you?”
Bringing my lips to his, barely touching, breathing him in, I worked on unbuckling his left wrist. “I don’t want chains, cuffs, whips, or clamps. I just want you.”
“You have me,” he said, threading his fingers through my hair. “I’m at your fucking mercy.”
“Then love me.”
“I do love you. So damn much.”
“That’s not what I meant. You used to make love to me, but lately, all you do is fuck me.”
Licking his lips, he pulled on the restraint trapping his right hand. “Let me go.”
I studied him, uncertainty straining my mouth.
“Baby, trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I whispered as I released his right wrist, followed by his ankles. He hauled me into his arms and flipped us.
Hands in my hair.
Mouth coaxing mine open so his could plunder.
He slipped inside me with the sort of patience I didn’t expect. The weight of his body grew heavy. Each thrust wrenched synchronized howls from us, his a heated blast on my neck, and mine unleashed into the air as I arched underneath him, head thrown back. He laced our fingers together and shoved my hands to the mattress.
It had been so long since he’d done more than take; tonight, he gave something priceless in return. Gave a little piece of himself in the way he held me, the way he kissed me, the way he surrendered even though I was on my back again with my hands pressed to the bed.
Mostly, the unhindered loss of control strangling his vocal cords was the real gift. “You feel so fucking good. I can’t stand it.” He jerked to a halt. “So good. Come with me.”
With a breathless cry, I followed him over the edge.
15. Ultimate Sin
I lived off the high of that night and Gage’s submission for three weeks straight. That weekend had been a tipping point for us, and we fell into a new routine of sorts. Friday night still came around like clockwork, but something had finally settled, finding its rightful place in the midst of our marriage.
Our anniversary and the unveiling of my deception had helped us build a new foundation.
But with new beginnings came new endings. I hadn’t been allowed to visit Emma at all, despite begging him for the privilege. I had many freedoms I hadn’t had before our anniversary meltdown and reconstruction, but he wouldn’t budge on the subject of Ian or anything about Ian.
Sadly, that included what he referred to as his hospital.
A rare occurrence of blue skies and sunshine made the day perfect for running errands. A nippy breeze rustled my hair as I unlocked the front door. I hefted a bag of groceries in one arm and pushed my way inside. My phone went off in my pocket on the way to the kitchen. I set the bag on the counter and dug out my cell, finding Simone’s smiling face flashing on the screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” I held the phone between my shoulder and ear so I could unload the bag of groceries.
“Kayla,” she said, her tone immediately putting me on alert.
I halted, and a jar of spaghetti sauce thudded on the counter. “What’s wrong? Is Emma okay?”
“Emma’s fine. Great
actually. She’s going home in about another week.”
I let out a relieved breath. “That’s great to hear.”
“It is.” She paused. “I didn’t call about Emma though. Can we meet somewhere to talk?”
I glanced at the time on the microwave. Gage had given me four hours to do my errands. I still had an hour left. “Of course. Where should I meet you?”
“Can you come to the hospital?”
I hesitated. “I haven’t eaten lunch yet. That pizza place a few blocks away sounds good. You up for that?”
She sighed. “Don’t bullshit me, Kayla.”
“I can’t meet you at the hospital. I’m sorry.”
“The pizza place it is then. See you in twenty.” She hung up, and I stared at my cell for a few moments, bewildered. Something was wrong. She was never that curt, even for Simone.
I rushed to put the groceries away, checked for any new messages from Gage, then hurried out the door. Traffic was heavier than usual, causing me to walk into the pizza place ten minutes late.
Simone sat in a booth by herself. “I ordered pepperoni,” she said.
“Okay.” I slid in across from her, studying her distraught face. Fear tightened my gut. “You’re worrying me. What’s going on?”
She wouldn’t quite look at me, and when she wiped a tear away, I reached out and grabbed her hand.
“He needs you right now,” she said, holding onto my fingers like a lifeline.
“Who?” I squeezed her hand back, wishing my ears would rebel and not listen. There was only one he she could be referring to.
“He came looking for you a couple of weeks ago. I told him you’d quit your job, and things just…happened. We started having lunch together every day.”
“Okay…” I eyed her cautiously, wondering where she was going with this. As much as it hurt to think of Ian with anyone, I wanted him to be happy. I also wanted Simone to be happy, so if they were hitting it off… “If you guys are dating, I think that’s…it’s great, Simone.”
“We’re not dating. I’ve grown attached, but we’re not dating.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “He didn’t want me to tell you, but I can’t keep my mouth shut on this. Kayla, he’s sick.”
“Sick?” Like with the flu or bronchitis or pneumonia. As I swept my bangs to the side, the tremor in my fingers said otherwise. That tremor knew the truth before she said it.
“He’s got cancer.”
I shook my head, denying. “But I just saw him three weeks ago. He was fine.”
“He’s far from fine,” she snapped. “He hasn’t been to work in days. He’s stopped treatment. I think he’s given up.” Another tear slipped down her cheek. “You need to talk to him. He’s still in love with you. Maybe he’ll listen to you because I can’t get through his thick skull.”
“What are his chances?” I blinked, willing my eyes to stay dry. If I started crying, I wouldn’t stop, and that wouldn’t help anyone.
“Without treatment?” She dropped her head. “Not good.”
Our order arrived then. The waitress set the steaming pizza between us, but neither of us had an appetite.
I didn’t want to believe her, and I knew part of me would refuse to accept it until I heard it from him. I stood, glanced around the restaurant at the half-filled booths, the people from the nearby hospital and other businesses gathering to share lunch. The setting appeared too normal. Just another day. I wanted to scream at everyone and ask how they could go about their day as the earth shook under my feet. It all seemed so unfair.
“Do you have his address?”
She pulled a pen from her purse and wrote on a napkin before pushing it into my hands. “You’ll talk to him?” Hope held her vocal cords captive.
I clutched his address to my chest. “I’ll try.”
“Get him to start the chemo again. We both know how fast things can turn around. He’s throwing away any chance he has of living.”
It was true. Volunteering in the oncology wing had taught me a lot, and Simone had more firsthand experience with this frail thing called life than I did. Fear seized my gut. Eve had come close to dying, and she would have if Gage hadn’t intervened. People could definitely take a turn for the better with the right treatment…but it didn’t always play out like that.
“I’ll talk to him.” Vomit had found a new home in my throat. Simone and I exchanged one last glance before I exited the restaurant in a fog and slid behind the wheel of the shiny Lexus Gage had bought for me. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten to the car, or how I made it to the other side of the Willamette River.
I pulled into his driveway, or at least, what I believed to be his driveway. The parking spots were empty, so unless he’d parked his SUV in the garage, he either wasn’t home, or I’d found the wrong place. I exited the car, cringing when the slam of the driver’s side door ricocheted in the quiet, and headed toward the front door.
Stepping onto his stoop, I raised my hand, readying myself to knock, and almost turned around. Simone had to be wrong. Ian was fine. He’d seemed perfectly healthy three weeks ago, if not a little…off. Swallowing my fear, I pounded on the door. Footsteps sounded from the other side. Something crashed, a curse whispered through the door, then the lock clicked over before he yanked open the barrier standing between us.
My knees nearly gave out at the first sight of him. The pallor of his skin was too familiar, and the sweatpants and T-shirt he wore were too big on him. He’d lost weight. Dread coiled my heart, constricting with lethal power. I denied the truth staring me in the face, even though Simone had laid it out straight.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, gazing past where I stood as if he expected someone else behind me.
“Simone gave me your address. Can I come in?”
“Why? You made it clear you want nothing to do with me. I’m done, Kayla.”
“You can’t give up.”
He scowled. “She told you, didn’t she?”
The air knocked from my lungs. “So it’s true?”
He ushered me inside and shut the door. When we reached the living room, he sank onto the sofa and let his head fall back against the cushion.
“What kind of cancer is it?”
“A brain tumor. Inoperable.”
I shook my head. “No…no. You’re gonna be fine. You just need to start the chemo again. Simone said you’d stopped.” Desperation clouded my tone, strained my expression.
“Kayla…no. Don’t do this now. I can’t handle any more pressure. I’ve made my peace with it.”
“Well I haven’t! They made a mistake. You need a second opinion.”
“I got a second opinion, and a third and a fourth.”
“I don’t care!” I spun around, my hands clutching my hair because if I let them loose, I’d put a hole in the wall. He was going to beat this. There was no other alternative. “Gage can help. Like he helped Eve.” I didn’t recognize my voice, could barely see through my tears. Barely heard him through the shrill ringing in my ears.
“Our situations are completely different. Besides, we both know he won’t lift a finer to help me.”
“You’re his brother! This goes beyond grudges.” I blinked hot tears down my cheeks, hating the turbulent cyclone of terror that had taken over my stomach. “You can’t die on me. You just…you can’t.”
“Come here.” His voice held a quiet note of resignation, and I didn’t like it.
Crossing the few feet between us was a no-brainer. “What do you need from me?” I whispered, drained to my soul. “What can I do?”
He opened his mouth, seemingly at a loss. “Just let me hold you.”
I placed a knee onto the cushion and straddled him, squeezing his frail body with enough force to steal his breath. As I laid my head on his shoulder, he buried his face in my hair. My heart cracked in two at how much weight he’d lost.
“I dig the new haircut,” he said.
“I was pissed at Gage.”
His chest rumbled u
nderneath me. “You’ve still got it in you.”
“Instances of temporary insanity? Yeah.”
He pressed his lips to my neck. “Do you remember our first kiss?”
“Of course I do.”
“That kiss knocked me on my ass.”
“Me too.”
“That night was the most intense bout of temporary insanity ever. We were so young, so fucking clueless.” He inched back and caught my gaze. “But I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes, remembering the intoxicating taste of first love on my lips, the exhilarating way his fingers had slipped beneath my panties. The first time he’d pushed inside me. Like he belonged there.
Like I was home.
“I loved you so much,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Past tense, Kayla?”
I only hesitated a moment. “No.”
“Jesus. This isn’t easy for me. I planned to go quietly.”
“You would have done that to me?”
“I didn’t want to put you through this.” His sigh fanned across my mouth. “You chose him—”
“Ian, please…” A sob hitched in my throat. One more ding to my composure.
“Let me finish, sweetheart.” He nudged the bangs from my eyes with his nose. “I don’t like that you chose him, but it was your decision to make. I just…I needed to know you and Eve were okay.” Tears rimmed his hazel eyes. “I can accept the cancer taking me. But leaving you…that’s really killing me.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“I have to be realistic.” He paused. “Is he still hurting you?”
I lowered my gaze.
“Tell me the truth, Kayla. No matter how ugly or hard to hear. Give it to me straight.”
“He’s sadistic, controlling, domineering, possessive, jealous—”
“Sounds like a great guy,” he interrupted, his mouth twisting in disdain.
“But he’s also passionate…” I softened my tone. “Caring, protective. He’s a disaster, but he’s my disaster. And he’s incredible to Eve.”
“You’re head over heels.”
“He loves me more than I deserve.”
“That’s bullshit.”