“I love your cars, but according to Amber, the Swamp Shack needs a parking garage for your addiction.”
“I’ll get on that in the spring,” he assures with a smile. “Right now, I’m going to get on you.”
“Classic? Missionary style?” I inquire, breathing against his lip. “That’s tame for you.”
His mouth hovers, lingering from my lips to my cheek and the soft flesh beneath my earlobe. “Not when I pin you down and bite your neck, it won’t be.”
“Sally…”
“Yes, baby?”
“Make love to me,” I request with all of the love I have for him aching deep in my bones. My hand skims over his chest, and I wrap my fingers around his cock. I stroke slow and deliberate, punctuating my movements from base to the mushroom and back again. I stick the tip of my pinky in the piercing and take one step back. “I am having a lifetime love affair with your dick.”
“Is it customer appreciation week?”
“It’s all you can eat,” I candidly reply, poking fun at myself. “All night long at Iris’ big bushed buffet.”
“Baby, we gotta get you to the groomer.”
I giggle. “Tell me about it. My hair is a rat’s nest. I haven’t had lashes in two months. My nails look like they were done during an earthquake as a tornado was touching down. It’s not good. I’m bad. Maybe I am nothing more than a cheap hooker on the side of a road under construction.”
“In ice…”
“Well, I’m not dead yet, but the verdict is still out depending on my current client’s fetish.” He shakes his head, and I take another step back. “You’re following because I have you by the dick.”
“I’m following because I want to get my dick wet.”
I plop my ass on the bed and spit on his shaft. I nail him. “There you go.”
“Damn, you been practicing?”
“Oh yes, part of the initiation ritual in joining the boy’s club. I can also burp, fart, and scratch with the best of them.”
His laughter fills the room. “Can you change a tire?”
“I probably can, considering I have a shanty shack nail treatment.”
“I’m calling Dom,” he declares.
“Wait, right now?”
He snickers, “Why does even mentioning his name get you going?”
“I enjoy Dom, but I blame you for that!” I uproariously excuse, carefully easing back onto the bed. “You are the one who turned me on to his high protocol deviance years ago.”
“Is that the standard?”
“Probably,” I admit, gathering a few pillows and laying back. “I’ve been waiting for you…for us…for this…all the others, they mean nothing to me. They’re sex toys, Sal. I waited for your boy to grow into a man.”
He kneels on the bed and crawls between my legs. “I want to be your sex toy.”
“Then you have to be present because Mama has needs, and I don’t own stock in batteries.”
His finger slides against my nether lips, slipping inside. I moan and arch up. He’s finger fucking me, teasing, and taunting, but it isn’t enough.
I want him—every glorious inch.
He pulls out, leaving me with a vacancy I don’t appreciate. I feel his fingers moving, perhaps stroking his dick. The captive ring hoop clatters on the table and startles me. “I’m not risking anything.”
“Honey…”
“What?” he asks, running the head along the seam and resting it at the opening. He leans over, lowering close to me before his lips meet mine. Our tongues tangle, reminding me where I should be. He lights my way back to where his heart resides in the dark recesses. He is such an escort.
“Are we really…” I start to ask as he abruptly thrusts into me. I gasp. My body remembers this man. My soul knows this man. His cock is my home—big, thick, and rich with boundless love—and fills my hollow dark place. “Oh, goddamn!”
“Iris,” he whispers, grazing my bottom lip with his greedy tongue. “Love me forever?”
“Yes!”
“Will you marry me?”
“I already did that,” I say, blushing as his hips keep a steady rhythm. “But I would do it again. And again. And again.”
His mouth encircles one nipple, and I gasp at how amazing we are together. We find balance in the barren. Just he and I.
Stay here.
Stay here.
Stay here.
The Master
I lace my hands into hers and pin her to the bed. Breathing heavily, I skyrocket our love on an unparalleled journey higher than we’ve ever been. I refuse to stop, needing to break through the barriers blockading our intimacy.
“Mrs. Raniero, you are perfect.”
“Hardly,” she dismisses. “I am only perfect because you disregard all the imperfections.”
“I know you are perfectly meant for me.” I kiss her cheek and roll to my side.
She grumbles. “Shit, what are you doing?”
Laying side by side, I slowly thrust with precise strokes. She feels too good to stop. “If we stay like that, I am scared I’m going to hurt you.”
“… Are you giving up control?”
“Only for the next two months,” I reply, grinning. “Think of this as an adventure.”
“I don’t know that we’ve ever done it this way,” she observes with a blissful moan, and it only takes a minute before we’re horizontal dancing.
“There you go, move with me, baby,” I encourage. “Rock your hips with me.”
“You’re such a demanding little shit.”
“Why?” I laugh. “Because I insist that you don’t just lay there stiff as a board while I do my thing?”
“Yes!” she groans. “And it may be your best quality as a lover. You make me a better lover.”
“Feels better if you move too.”
“Is that why you aren’t into tight restraint?” she asks, just now realizing it. I grin and grab her ass as I push deeper inside of her. “I can have anal.”
“I’m not having anal with my wife tonight,” I declare. “Your hot mess feels too good.”
Our legs twist like a pretzel together, and she blesses my shaft in her dew. She rests her hand on my cheek, and I dive my tongue into her mouth. We’re making out and making love and making it through the wreckage of four months apart.
“I am in crazy fucking love with you.”
I smirk. “I could say the same to you—In. Crazy. Fucking. Love.”
“Up.”
I carefully move, keeping my arm braced around her as I sit us up. “You want to go to bounce town.”
She laughs. “You’re so fluid and easy. You don’t care if we switch positions sixteen times.”
“Why would I be?” I ask, allowing her to take over and control the pace. My hips arch up to meet hers, but I hold her steady. “Do what you want. I got you.”
“Balance is all off.”
“I can tell,” I whisper, staring at her magnificent rack of loveliness. “But I am strong enough to keep you where I want you. I am not going to let you or the baby get hurt.”
She stops and looks at me. “Say it…”
“Your tits are massive, doll.”
“Have at them,” she offers, playing with my hair. “But don’t blame me if I leak.”
“I’ve had mouthfuls of white stuff before,” I cackle. “If you think a warning will stop me, we need to go back to Sal 101.”
“I’ve been working on my mastery class.”
“By screwing the professor?”
“Acing the class,” she says as I suckle on her nipple and hold the other breast in my hand. I gently knead at it and buck my hips upwards. “Oh God, you’re going to make me come, Sal.”
I flick my eyes up to hers, but I don’t stop lapping at her nipple. Her orgasm washes over my dick in waves. She tightens, but I am not letting go yet. I need more of her love. “Someone needed to come.”
“Yes!” She is out of breath as I lay back flat and place my hands on her hips.
“No one loves me as you do. No one can make me come as you do.”
“Stay still,” I say. “Catch your breath. I want your…wet…tightness…sucking on my dick. It’s so amazing to fuck you after you come to me. It’s my favorite thing.”
“Across the board?”
“Ya,” I honestly admit. “There is nothing greater,” I stutter out, pausing my thrusts and holding back with a bite of my lip. “Than having at you…afterward.”
“Look at you, delaying the inevitable…”
“It’s not easy when I want you this bad,” I mutter. “Your satisfaction is much more important than mine.”
“Do I get to fill out a performance review?”
“Sure,” I chuckle, grazing the back of my hand over her nipples. “You’re gorgeous when you’re pregnant.”
“You’re trying to influence my opinion of you, and skewing my unbiased critique.”
I mischievously grin, rocking my hips. Her body sends mine into overdrive, but she unexpectedly shifts, rolling against me. Her determination will soar me over the finish line. “Shit…”
She gleefully snickers. “Gonna get ya.”
“The gonna is unnecessary in that statement. You’ve already got me.”
“Can we spend tomorrow wrapped up in each other?” she asks as my hands hold her belly. I am holding my baby in my hands. “And take tons of pictures together?”
“Yes!” I groan as her hair brushes against my stomach. I keep my eyes glued to hers and come hard, piston-driving out every last drop. “Forever. No more separation. Always. No more being apart. Staying right here with you,” I moan through the ecstasy, and her shores douse my flames. Her waters calm the burn. “I love you so fucking much, Iris.”
“Well, the boy matured into a man, but you still don’t deflate.”
I cover my face with my hands and laugh. “It’s not as hard as it was. You’re the one who said, ‘Mama has needs.’ I am the ideal sex toy for you.”
“You always were, Raniero,” she alleges, clicking on the light and blinding me.
“Fuck!”
“What the hell!” she booms, staring at my arousal. I squint and grin. She leans over my thighs and caresses my sack. “Here.”
“What?”
“This,” she says, pointing at her belly. “Came from these.”
“Yes, we had sex and made a baby.”
“We made a tiny human, Sal!” she squeals like the reality is hitting her. It keeps side-swiping me, pulling me away in the emotional undertow, which makes me think it will be the spitting image of her. “What do you want to name it?”
“God,” I reply. “You know no one ever tells you how hard naming a child is going to be.”
“We don’t even know what we’re having,” she says. “We’ve already failed at being parents. It’s not like there have been any doctor’s visits.”
I furrow my brow. “You haven’t been to the doctor?”
“Not since we left the states.”
“We’re going home tomorrow,” I warn, pissed off at her and me. “We need to make sure you and the baby are okay.” I roll away and get up. Standing in front of the windows, I stare out at the lights of Houston as she kisses my shoulder and wraps her arms around me. “We’re going to have to be better, Sal.”
“I know.”
“Seriously,” I whisper, spinning around. “We can’t do this like this ever again.”
She begs, “One more day?”
“The doctor or no salon,” he bargains.
“I’ll get it all done,” she promises. “Please just let me have you all to myself for one more day.”
“I shouldn’t bend on this.” She blinks, and I spread my arms. “Fine. One more day. But tomorrow morning, I am scheduling all of your appointments. Do you have something to wear to the funeral?”
“No, but Amber can get me something.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I want to light up the night. Put all your ice on. I am fucking you against the glass.”
Her mouth drops open. “You’re still here. Nothing has changed between us.”
“No,” I sternly reply. “And it won’t. You’re still the motherfucking cupcake I will want to eat for all eternity, Mama.” I wink. “The games must evolve, but we’re always going to be the same Sal and Iris.”
“Raniero…Sal and Iris Raniero.” With tears in her eyes, she beams a smile at me. I told her exactly what she needed to hear, and the boost in her confidence is noticeable. “I’ll be dripping in diamonds, Sir. Give me one-second, Daddy.”
101
Green Lights Shaded Blue
His Master
I pick Sal and Iris up from the airport in Austin at an ungodly early hour in the Bronco. I should be getting up out of bed and enjoying my coffee, but I’ve spent the last ninety minutes in traffic.
The happy couple is holding hands and walking to the vehicle. It is outrageous how cute they are together. They’re crazy about one another, but they always have been.
From the first moment I saw them together at The Dollhouse, I knew they were special. The footing they find in one another is something many have their hearts set on, yet never find.
And I will do anything to safeguard their love affair.
“Welcome home! You two look amazing!” I excitedly greet. “How was the flight?”
“It was good. I’ll ride in the back,” Sal readily volunteers, helping his girl inside. He hands her the seatbelt, and she smiles at me. I lay my hands on her fingers, offering a gentle squeeze as he kisses her lips. “You’re safer in the front.”
“You just want to slide in the middle,” she teases, fastening the belt. He shuts the door, and I lean to kiss her cheek.
“Are you doing okay?” I ask while he tosses his bag in the back. “Is my boy being good to you?”
“Yes, Sir, he was the perfect gentleman,” she voices as Sal climbs in.
“Are you sure you spent the last two days with Sal?”
She grins and giggles, “Oh, yeah!”
“Mwahaha!” Sal hoots. “Have you talked to Cruz yet?”
“Baby Saint got in late last night,” I inform. “Amber picked him up, and Trudy was none too happy about that.”
“Ya, I bet.”
Glancing in the rearview, I ask, “… Are they?”
“I don’t know what is going on,” Sal dismisses, putting his sunglasses on. “But I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“What is your plan?”
“We’re going to the doctor and the salon,” Iris says, very rehearsed. “But Sal has a brunch meeting with Cristos at Lamb’s House after the doctor’s appointment.”
I ask, “Do you need me there?”
“Nah,” he says, scanning his phone. “It’s shit about his boats. Nothing monumental.”
“You’re quite passive,” I note with concern. “You okay?’
“I’ve spent two days with my dick in my wife; I am higher than a fucking kite. And I’m awesome! Thank you!”
His arrogant flair is uncommon, but I laugh it off. “Who is watching Queenie at the salon?”
“I was hoping you would,” he replies with a subtle grin. Despite Sal glowing in her radiance, I detect a sense of sadness in Iris. “If you don’t mind.”
“Even though I am a thirty-two-year-old woman and maintain that I do not need a chaperone…”
“Iris Amarie,” Sal warns, strumming his fingers on the back of the seat. “We’ve been over this. You are going with someone.”
“I’ll go to the salon,” I immediately concede, not wanting a lover’s quarrel to break out en route back home. “Maybe I’ll get a haircut and a shave.”
Sal snickers, “You do that.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m great, Gennaro.”
His Butterfly
“I’m not happy,” Lani says after running urine, blood, and an ultrasound test. “Four months, Iris!”
“I know.”
She closes the laptop. “Do
you want the good or bad news?”
Holding my hand, Sal answers, “Bad first.”
“The baby is smaller than I would’ve liked.”
With concern, I ask, “Why?”
“It could be any number of reasons from as simple as a genetic predisposition—you are small—to something more complicated, but I won’t know until we get the labs back,” she says. “I want you eating plenty of healthy stuff, drinking lots of fluids, and resting. No stress. Mild exercise, but not too much, I don’t want you dropping any weight.”
“I’m huge!”
“No, you aren’t,” she argues, uncrossing her legs and moving to the edge of her seat. “Your small bone structure and short height make it seem like you are huge, but you’re not. Your self-perception is off.”
“Great,” I whine. “One more thing I cannot do right.”
“Oh, Iris, hush! You’re fine,” Lani consoles. “I would’ve preferred if you had at least ten more pounds on you, but there is little we can do about it now. I’ll get the bloodwork back tomorrow, and we can decide where we need to go from there.”
Sal says, “That’s all we can do, Angel.”
“But while I have you both here, please do not do this again. With your severe anemia, I don’t want another conception from you two like this. It would be best if you were ready before you start trying. Proper preparation will ensure a successful outcome.”
“Are you saying there is something wrong with my baby?”
“No, Iris, I am saying we could have had you in a healthier place before conception,” she gently replies. “I must say you are looking much better than the last time I saw you, Sal.”
“Do you need to take my blood pressure?”
“No,” she giggles. “You’re sober.”
“For the most part, I am.”
“Keep up the good work.” She winks. “I’ve got a brochure on low birth weight during pregnancy and what to expect after you deliver. It will answer a lot of the questions that I am sure will come up at two in the morning, which is when you should be sleeping.”
“That’s round two,” Sal chimes in with a grin. “I will make sure she is fully exhausted.”
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