Pleasure Vows

by Khloe Summers

  “It’s big. Do you think you can handle it?” His lips still sat humidly near the lobe of my left ear.

  I sighed and nodded as he pushed the thick silicone into my depths.

  “Is that far enough?” he whispered, turning up vibration.

  I moaned in agreement until I felt the sharp clamp of a weighted chain on my nipples. Was I supposed to enjoy this? Wanting to be a good sport, I let the mild pain linger as he continued with his tongue down my stomach and onto my hips—still thrusting at the oversized dildo cradled deeply inside within.

  He settled there, between my legs. “When you’re about to orgasm, unclamp the clips… I want to be down here to watch the come drip from the lips of your pussy.” The filth and rasp in his words mingled with the hard vibration, sent a wave of light from the base of my skull, through my spine and into my groin. I unclasped the clamps. The restricted blood flow returned, and a sharp sensation of pain and endorphins heightened the release of tension as come spilled onto the sheets. Moaning, Matteo pulled out the sticky dildo, and dove into my crest, licking up the waves of pleasure that were left.

  Still blinded by chiffon, I moved with Matteo’s strength as he lifted my hips from the bed, tossed one leg onto his shoulder, and twisted me slightly. His cock—a hard pressure against the swollen walls of my garden. His breath—an unsteady echo of pleasure as he rocked his core against me until he came. Our scents—now mingled together like wild animals marking territory. Exhausted from pleasure, he collapsed next to me with quiet reassurance until the morning sun filtered through the soft linen curtains that hung on each side of the picture window.

  In the morning light, I sat up and reached for Matteo—he was gone but the shades had been drawn and the window cracked to reveal the slightest scent of plumeria, and the deep blue Pacific that glittered like diamonds towards the shore. To the right, a colorful city sprawled with dry mountains climbing towards the horizon. Matteo was up and moving I could hear utensils clanking porcelain cups. I stood from the bed and shuffled into a pair of fluffy white slippers and made my way towards the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” I said, pulling my hair to the side of my shoulder. “Where did you find that? I figured we’d have to go out this morning.”

  He was standing on the small lanai just off the back of the house drinking coffee when he heard me and turned around. “It’s not the freshest, but the bag was left behind, and it’s caffeine… so it’ll have to do for now.” He kissed my forehead with warm lips. “What are you thinking today? Hang out here? Maybe play on the beach? Maybe they have a grocery delivery service. I’ll call around.” I’d missed his full attention while we were together, so his sudden willingness to be with me instead of ‘in his head’ was welcomed.

  “All of that sounds great. I see there are some paddleboards up near the house we could use too,” I said, pouring myself a cup of ancient coffee.

  “I’ll get on ordering the groceries, then I’ll meet you down by the beach.” He swiped his left hand along my chin as he passed, comforting any last bit of anxiety I had before I changed for a day with my guy.

  I’d brought a bright pink one-piece that was nearly cut to shreds on purpose, then backfilled by black lace. Alone, I was never this adventurous, but Matteo talked my sexy outfits up, making me feel like an undiscovered model. So, I wanted him to see me in it for the very first time lying in an erotic position on the lounger by the shore. I dressed quickly, brushed through my hair, threw on my robe, slinked out of the house, and made my way out the back door onto the loungers. As I was getting myself settled, my phone went on the attack. Fucking balls… who the hell… I reached for my cell between my breasts to see who was being so persistent.

  Kevin: Is he telling you how much danger you’re in? He said they’ll go for you to get to him.

  Me: I’ll be okay. We’re taking precautions.

  Kevin: I would feel better if I knew you were here with me while he figures out whatever it is he needs to figure out.

  Ignoring Kevin’s last message, I busied myself with checking local news and weather forecasts as I listened for the back door to slam shut—an obvious sign that I should ‘get into position’. Though, as I scanned websites and checked messages, time continued until I could only assume that the wildfire had consumed him again. A slice of anger beat at my sensibilities, but I forced it away. He was safe and I knew where he was. That should be enough.

  Though, after another hour passed, and then another. I began to feel forgotten and a wave of bitter anger settled in as I listened to the swells crash against the shore. It was as though he were having an affair with Kings Ranch—always consumed by the details of destroying them. And now—I’d officially had enough.

  Sometime later, when the sun had almost dipped into the middle of the sky, his voice startled me from my irritated haze. “My Bella, I’m so sorry… I don’t know what happened. I got distracted and time got away from me. The groceries are here though, please put them all away.” He sulked when he walked, then sunk into the lounger with a sigh, not even noting my bathing suit.

  I sat in defiance, still looking out at the beach silently.

  He continued, “You know I was inside thinking, and I started to wonder what we were waiting for?”

  I looked towards him, tipping my head slightly into the conversation. I knew what he meant, but I played dumb. “What do you mean?”

  Taking my hand in his, he stared out at the horizon with me. “The wedding. Why are we waiting? We could… we could elope tonight.”

  Now that I had him in the trap, I snapped my head towards him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I stood from the lounger. “You’ve ignored me all day! You said this trip was for us, and so far, I’ve spent most of the day by myself.”

  He narrowed his eyes and stood to be next to me. “Bella, you know I love you. I’m working through something. It’s going to be difficult for a while. I’ll get there—but right now can be about us. This very moment. Just promise you’ll wear that bathing suit.”

  I looked back at him with an expression so severe I was sure I was burning a literal hole through his soul. “You have to be kidding me? You think you can just say some sweet shit and make everything better again? You have a problem. A problem that time and revenge plots won’t fix. You need therapy. The island… everything that happened there… it did something to you!” It could have been the amount of sun my pale skin had absorbed in waiting, or my abrupt change in emotion, but the world began to spin. I reached my hand to my head, then sit back down.

  Matteo joined, wrapping me into the side of his solid form. I loved living in that space—between his heart and arms.

  He rested his head on top of mine as we both looked down the beach at a row of palms that swayed in the afternoon breeze. “What do you say? You, me, and the stars?”

  I stayed quiet, still absorbing the moment. He didn’t deserve a yes today. He deserved a day of passive-aggressive comments and light ribbing. But at that moment on the lounger with my head tucked beneath his—I wanted ‘you, me and the stars’ more than anything.

  Chapter Seven

  Matteo

  I didn’t deserve a ‘yes’, but she gave me one. One that I didn’t intend to take lightly. I’d planned to make up for every second I’d missed drowning in my head with a memorable day in town. Followed by a nice quiet ceremony under the starlit sky.

  In town, colorful crocheted flags flew between narrow stone streets, and vendors lined walkways with cheap goods for sale. Palm trees flowed down sidewalks leading to tall white churches with multiple arched bell towers and large rounded wood doors. Mosaics laid hidden in the church gardens with hundreds of glass-enclosed candles lit beneath the facade in a prayer of saints. I’d been to Mexico multiple times, but never had I spent time wandering the streets.

  Hannah’s hand laid still in mine as we roamed in search of a florist we’d found online that had access to the best dahlias in all of Mexico. On the GPS, the b
uilding looked like all the others: Spanish Colonial style. The only difference in the florist was the vines of purple and pink flowers growing up and around the windows—a scene that could have been taken from Rome. For twenty minutes more, we walked through the narrow streets, studying each crevasse as though we were foreigners who never left our couch. These days, that wouldn’t be far from the truth.

  Inside, an older Mexican woman wearing a long white dress with colorful appliqued flowers along the edges attended to us. Hannah had been beaming since we left the house, but once we’d finally arrived at the tiny shop, her eyes lit with exhilaration.

  “Hola! I’m Hannah, and this is Matteo.”

  The kind woman nodded her head and held out her hand to shake. Her body language told me I’d need to translate, so I began by asking about the dahlias and where we could go to find a last-minute clergyman. At first, she didn’t speak but showed us to the back where a warm, humid greenhouse was lined with dahlias of every variety and height. Some were over five feet tall, others short and more like a shrub. The petals were daisy-like, though some laid flat and wide, while others curled into tubes.

  Hannah looked toward me; her eyes more alive than I’d seen them in months. “Look at all the colors!” I loved seeing her like this, so ecstatic for life, excited about flowers and dreams coming to reality.

  The stocky woman turned through the isles then handed Hannah a pot with a dahlia that faded from dark pink to salmon and yellow at its heart. The woman continued, motioning for Hannah to hold the flower to her face, as she rambled on about things Hannah couldn’t interpret.

  “She said that color goes nicely with your complexion. She could do a bouquet like this with wildflowers. It would be ready in an hour,” I said, looking towards my bride to be.

  Hannah smiled and nodded politely towards the woman, then looked back. She was easy to please and would’ve been happy with anything. But I liked the dahlia because it was unique—like us. I confirmed Hannah’s decision with the woman and took down the name of who to call to officiate the ceremony. Looking back at Hannah, I couldn’t help but mirror her expression.

  She lit the room with the widest, most genuine smile, then dropped it just as quickly and raised her brows. “The rings! We didn’t bring them!”

  Months ago, shortly after I proposed, we’d chosen wedding bands, but kept them in the safe at home.

  “We’ll just buy another set, I’m sure there’s a jewelry shop around here somewhere.” I pulled out my phone and began to search, but Hannah grabbed my arm and yanked.

  “No—we’re not buying new rings.” She looked up and down the street, her thoughts clearly in motion. “That guy right there…” she pointed towards a young black man selling wooden jewelry on a blue blanket near the end of the street, “We can buy a couple of rings from him to use until we get home.”

  “Are you sure about all this? I want this memory to be beautiful for you. It’s no big deal, there’s a jewelry store a few blocks from here.”

  “As long as you’re there… it’s going to be just what I want,” she spoke as she walked, half dragging me towards the vendor. “What about these?” she asked, squatting beside the blanket to lift two wooden rings from a pile with small elephants stamped into the side.

  The lanky salesman with a Rasta hat studied Hannah. At first, I figured he was admiring her beauty, or sizing up what kind of tourist he was dealing with. But he didn’t keep me guessing long. Instead, through a thick Jamaican accent, he gave us every detail of his thoughts.

  “You’re Hannah… that porn lady. I’ve seen your videos! I really enjoyed them…” He spilled out a half-smile then stood and grabbed for his phone. “And that makes you… Matteo.” He laughed, holding his hand over his mouth. “I can’t believe I’m meeting celebrities…” His voice became louder and louder as he spoke and waved his long arms like pendulums in excitement.

  Hannah looked towards me, her eyes, fevered with anxiety as the man continued to record his ‘celebrity’ sighting.

  I lifted my hands to cover our faces and walked away. “You have the wrong people.”

  The man followed pursuing us at every angle, as he laughed and smiled. “No one will believe this; people are waiting for your next video. You’ve been laying low.”

  “Back off…” I felt my blood pressure rise as the man continued to record. Hannah motioned towards a cab, but the man followed us into the street.

  “Last time I’m asking, put your fucking camera away.” My teeth ground together when I spoke. This fucking ass was about to ruin everything we’d been working towards, and despite asking multiple times, he continued to record, this time, forcing my hand back to get a better shot of Hannah—this infuriated me to the point of thoughtless rage.

  I pushed the man back against a nearby car and took the phone from his hands. The smile disappeared from his face and he started yelling expletives I didn’t pay much mind to as I deleted the videos he’d taken. Hannah was now clear on the other side of the street hailing a cab. Though when I turned to meet her, I realized it no longer mattered that I’d deleted the salesman’s videos because there were thirty others pointed at me.

  Hannah motioned for me to join her. I ran across the street and hopped into the beat-up van that had taxi marked on the side—assuming anything was better than the wild streets of Ixtapa. Once we’d turned the corner away from the craziness, I looked towards Hannah, her eyes had begun to water, though she stayed silent.

  “What’s wrong my Bella?” I asked, even though I knew.

  “I think we should go home.”

  She was right. Anytime now, the internet would be live with videos of me acting like a lunatic and our location would be known.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to go like this… he was… I thought I could stop him.” I reached for her arm, pulling her into my side. “We’ll figure this out and have the wedding soon. I’m not going to let you down.” I said the words in truth, but I felt like I’d already disappointed her. I wanted so much more for Hannah—for our life together. And if I hadn’t been convinced before, I was now. Our life would never be ours with Kings Ranch after us, and nothing was going to stop me from ending this once and for all.

  Chapter Eight

  Hannah

  It was nearly 2 AM, but Matteo sat awake with his back against the dresser, angled between the bedroom door and the picture window in the cabin. A loaded pistol, hanging in his tired hand. He’d been awake for days, and we hadn’t left the cabin since we got home three days ago. I laid haphazardly across the bed, not wanting to leave him alone with a loaded gun but feeling rather faint from lack of sleep. He wasn’t right, he hadn’t been since he got back. And now, more than ever I realized I should have gotten him help.

  Looking up in a haze, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “I’ve made a decision; you’re going to Kevin’s. I hired security today. I’ll take you in the morning.”

  Fire met my veins in anger as I leaped from the bed to face him. “You can’t be serious! You don’t run my life! I never once said I was—”

  “Bella! I’m not going into this. We can’t stay holed up in this cabin for the rest of our lives. I have to take care of Kings Ranch and I need to know you’re not alone. Do you have some other friend you’d like me to call instead?” He barked the words as though I had no choice.

  I laid still in bed, trying not to feel sorry for myself as I came to terms with my reality. Matteo was right. I had no one else. My family died when I was young, I’d secluded myself in an abusive relationship after that, and then immediately threw myself into a life with Matteo. Kevin was the only other person I knew on an individual basis.

  Matteo looked up, but his expression stayed flat. “I need two weeks—stay away from the cabin and the shelter entirely. Just promise you won’t come after me. Don’t think you know how to fix this,” His eyebrows furled as his tone lowered, “Let me handle it!”

 
I stood from the bed. “Damn it! I’m so tired of being told what I’m doing.”

  “You’re not being told what to do!” He laid the gun on the hard floor and stood. “You’re being loved and cared for.” His eyes were bloodshot and strained, as though whatever ameba was eating away at him was almost through. “Once this is over, we can be free to live our lives without fear, without hiding. We have to do this. I have to do this. It’s the only way.”

  More tears forced their way into my vision. “What am I supposed to do with myself while you’re gone? You want me to stay away from the shelter, but that’s all I do… and it’s spring. I have so many wounded animals coming in.”

  He stood still, thoughtfully looking back at me, but I could tell he didn’t have the brainpower to solve my problem.

  I shifted my weight from one leg to another. “If you’re leaving and I’m going with Kevin than you better promise me… come hell or high water you’ll tell me all the details before you make a move… and we decide together if you should go.”

  He stayed still; his eyes focused on the wall behind me. “I will let you know when I leave, but the decision to go to Kings Ranch will be mine alone.”

  I wanted to rage. I knew he was exhausted, but the ice radiating off him was too much.

  “And that’s it? I do what you tell me to, and you do what you want. End of story?”

  “End of Story.”

  “You need a fucking nap.”

  “No… I need my life back. I need to have the freedom to get it back without worrying about you.”

  “Really? Without worrying about me?”

  “Yes! Bella, I’m not doing this because I want to and you’re fighting me at every turn. I don’t have a choice! And I can’t be in the thick of this worrying about what you’re thinking or worried you’re upset because you can’t get into the shelter. You just have to let me do this and stay busy while I do it.”