Tell Me

by Olivia Cunning

  hips and suddenly thrust hard. A large bump on the underside of his cock stretched her beyond her limit.

  She whimpered in pain.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I need to design a better way to insert it. I promise it will feel amazing once I find your spot.”

  Gabe, plus whatever sleeve he was wearing over his cock, slipped deeper. When the thickened nub on the underside of the device rubbed against her front wall and found the spot he was referring to, she groaned.

  “There it is,” he said. “I’m going to turn it on now. Are you ready?”

  She didn’t know what she was agreeing to, but she nodded. The nub inside her vibrated hard against her G-spot, and pleasure shot through her entire body. Gabe began to move and apparently the sleeve around his cock was doing something for him too because he was groaning and gasping and swearing under his breath with each thrust. The motion of his hips moved the cock sleeve just enough to rub that maddening vibrating nub against Melanie’s G-spot over and over and over again. She wasn’t sure when she’d started coming, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t ever be able to stop.

  “Tell me when you come, baby, so I can pull out the beads,” he said.

  “I’m already.” She gasped.

  “Did I miss it? I can’t tell when I’m wearing the sleeve. It massages the base of my cock so good, but it prevents me from feeling you squeeze me when you come.”

  “Still… coming. Oh… God.”

  “Take a deep breath.”

  She tried, but she was gasping too hard. Were those tears on her cheeks? Or drool? Was it possible to literally explode from pleasure?

  She felt a harsh tug on her ass and the first bead popped free. She cried out, her fingers clinging to the bedclothes beneath her face as she held on for another round of exquisite pleasure. The successive and rapid removal of the beads sent deeper waves of bliss crashing through her body. She couldn’t even track what was happening to her any longer. Gabe soothed her raw and quivering ass with his fingertips. She whimpered as he thrust his hips faster and churned deep inside her. She wasn’t sure when she started begging for mercy, but she simply couldn’t take any more.

  “Too much, Gabe. Too much. Too much. Oh God.”

  “Rub your clit,” Gabe murmured. “It will help.”

  “I don’t need to come again,” she snapped. “I need to stop coming.”

  “Well, if you won’t do what you’re told…”

  Still massaging her in the back with one hand, he reached his free hand around her and massaged her clit with the exact same cadence. She cried out as a more familiar orgasm ripped through her pussy, and he was right—it let the one caused by overstimulation of her G-spot to fade from torture to bliss.

  Gabe’s motions became jerky behind her, and he called out as he joined her in release. He shook and sputtered far longer than was usual, and then he collapsed against her back, his arms falling limp on either side of her body.

  “That was fucking amazing,” he murmured.

  She murmured something unintelligible in agreement. She’d never felt anything like what she’d just experienced. That had been so much more than a typical orgasm. She was going to name it megagasm. Or she would once she remembered how to move her tongue.

  “I have to pull out before I’m too soft,” Gabe said. “It should be easier coming out than going in.”

  She was boneless, so she didn’t have to concentrate on relaxing for him. It was the only condition she could experience at the moment. He tugged the device free of her body and set it aside. She would admire its ingenious design eventually. For now she would just lie face-down on the bed and float on a sea of tranquility.

  She must have nodded off. Her next conscious sensation was a wet tickle against the sole of one foot. She lifted her head and found Beau sampling the flavor of her toes.

  “Gabe,” she mumbled. “I think your dog wants out.”

  “He’s already been out,” Gabe said. “There’s a doggie door to the back yard.”

  She flopped her head over in the other direction and found Gabe lying beside her, looking as exhausted as she felt.

  “How long have I been unconscious?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. I think it’s already Tuesday.”

  She chuckled. “So four days?”

  “At least.”

  Melanie stretched languorously and snuggled up against Gabe’s side. “What?” she said, “No breakfast in bed? What kind of host are you?”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’ll take you out to a great little diner for breakfast,” he said. “As soon as I can move.”

  “I can’t believe you’re worn out already.” The reason she was giving him such a hard time was because she was pretty sure her quivering legs would be unable to support her. “Is that jetted tub in your bathroom big enough for two?” she asked. Maybe a nice underwater massage would rejuvenate her tired muscles and soothe the ache between her thighs.

  “Yeah.”

  She forced her exhausted body to slide from the bed. She was surprised when her legs supported her weight. “Care to join me?”

  “Baby, I couldn’t fuck you right now if my life depended on it.”

  “That’s not why I asked,” she said. “I’m craving the pleasure of your company, not your cock.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” he promised and closed his eyes, his face slack.

  She smiled, figuring he’d need the better of the part of the morning to recover, not just a minute, but she hobbled toward the bathroom and turned on the faucets to fill the enormous sunken tub with hot water. His bathroom was larger than her entire apartment. And why a single man would need a huge shower with dozens of showerheads was beyond her comprehension.

  When the tub was half-full, she collected her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash and climbed into the hot, soothing water. She found an unmarked button on the side of the tub and pushed it, hoping she wasn’t about to be violated by one of Gabe’s crazy inventions, but the tub sputtered and whirred and began to shoot jets of water over her flesh. She sighed in bliss as the massage worked miracles on her aching muscles. She sank beneath the water, wetting her hair, and then jerked upward with an explosive splash when something brushed against her shoulder.

  Gabe chuckled. “Did I startle you?”

  “Nope,” she said. “That’s how I always wash my hair. Whiplash makes it more manageable.”

  “Can I show you how I’d wash it?”

  He sank down behind her in the tub, with her seated between his legs.

  “Um, yeah, okay,” she said. “But be careful not to get lost in there. My hair’s a rats’ nest this morning.”

  “I love your hair,” he said. He turned off the water and then reached for the shampoo. He dumped enough on his palm to wash a small mohawk. She didn’t bother to correct his folly. He’d soon figure out that it took at least half a travel-sized bottle to clean her thick and unruly locks.

  “You have gorgeous hair,” he said, burrowing his fingers in the wet mass and snagging on several tangles. “It’s one of the million things about you that I can’t stop thinking about.”

  She giggled. “I can’t stop thinking about your hair either.”

  He added more shampoo to his hands and began to work it into a rich lather, massaging her scalp so deeply that she sighed in bliss.

  “Yeah, well, my hair is pretty unforgettable,” he said.

  “It’s your smile that’s unforgettable,” she said and moaned in contentment as he continued to massage frothy, clean-smelling bubbles into her hair.

  “If you keep making those sounds, my brain’s going to issue a check that my cock can’t cash.”

  “Feels so good,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

  He washed her hair until her entire body was relaxed, and then he eased her forward so she could lower her head back into the water in the open space between his legs. His fingers worked the shampoo from her hair.

  “Beautiful,” h
e whispered, and she opened her eyes to gaze up at him. He appeared upside down to her, but she could tell he was enjoying the view of her wet, naked body almost as she was enjoying the water jets against the soles of her feet.

  “Your hair floating all around me,” he said. “Your skin shiny wet. Your breasts peeking above the surface of the water. Beautiful.”

  He cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. She shuddered, unable to stop the flood of heat his touch always caused. It didn’t matter that her pussy was tender from the pounding he’d given it less than an hour before, she could feel herself swelling with desire once more.

  He helped her sit up again and began to work conditioner into her hair.

  “Taking a bath was a great idea,” he said. “My body has decided it can handle a bit more physical activity if you’re game.”

  “I’m game,” she said. “You’ll have to take it easy on me though, I’m a little sore.” She flushed as soon as she said it. Were they far enough into their relationship that she could share her discomfort with him?

  “Then I’ll try to curb my enthusiasm for your body until later. You’ll just have to dazzle me with your mind.”

  She laughed. “Not much dazzling in there,” she said. Not when compared to someone as smart as Gabe was.

  “So what do you do with your time outside of accounting and babysitting Nikki?” he asked. “What’s your family like? Did you have pets growing up? Tell me everything.”

  “Babysitting Nikki is a full-time job in itself,” she said with a laugh.

  “How did you meet her?”

  “I first met her when I was six. We spent an entire summer playing in the park. Then she moved away and I lost track of her. Imagine my surprise when she was assigned as my roommate freshman year of college.”

  “So you two are the same age?” he asked. “You always seem so much older than her.”

  “Gee, thanks. Call the retirement home, Melanie’s escaped again.”

  “I didn’t mean old, I meant more mature. Like you have your life together. Know what you’re doing.”

  “Does anyone really know what they’re doing? Some of us are just better than others at pretending we have a fail-proof plan. Did you plan to be a rock drummer?”

  “Well, no, I didn’t plan it.”

  “There you go.”

  “Did you always plan to be an accountant?”

  She laughed. “Nope. I wanted to be an entomologist, but my parents convinced me that collecting butterflies was not a reasonable vocation for a responsible individual.”

  Thinking about butterflies made her think about Nikki, reminding Melanie that she still hadn’t called or texted. Melanie couldn’t help the worry that churned in her belly. Or maybe she was just hungry.

  “See, now, that’s interesting,” he said. “I figured you’d be the type to squeal like a girl when confronted by an insect.”

  “First off, I am a girl. You’d think the breasts would have clued you in.” She swept both hands at her fully displayed boobs as if she were a game show hostess showing fabulous prizes. “And second, I’m not fond of all insects. Just butterflies. I used to collect them as a child. Dead bugs all over my bedroom walls—pinned to little squares of cotton batting inside wooden shadow boxes, their wings pressed flat against the glass. Kind of morbid, don’t you think?”

  “Not at all. If you hung cockroaches and dung beetles on your wall, I might be a tad concerned, but butterflies? I’m sure they were pretty. Maybe we’ll see some at the lake today. You can tell me their species.”

  She hadn’t focused on butterflies for years. “If I remember them.”

  “Tell me about your parents. From what little you’ve mentioned, they sound a bit stuffy.”

  “Stuffy? That’s putting it mildly. They were so overprotective, I’m surprised they allowed me to breathe unpurified air.”

  “Why were they so overprotective? Because you were so cute?” He tapped her nose.

  She shook her head, not because she hadn’t been a cute kid, but because their reasons were a bit deeper than that.

  “They were in their mid-40s when I was born. I had an older brother, but he drowned in a kiddie pool in the back yard years and years before I came into the world. He was only three, but his loss devastated my parents and they weren’t planning on having any more kids. Then surprise! Melanie decides to defy all forms of birth control and make her entrance. They were so afraid of losing me that they smothered me. I can’t be too angry with them about it. And at least I never had to wonder if I was loved. What about your family? You never talk about them.”

  “Not much to say. Eternally married, well-rounded, fairly nonpsychotic parents. Three kids spaced exactly eighteen months apart. Two family dogs. Happy home. Very boring.”

  “You have siblings?”

  “Yeah, two sisters. Both older.”

  “Are they also musically inclined?” she asked, trying to picture what his sisters would look like, who they were. And she wondered about his parents too. She wished she could meet them all. Maybe someday.

  “Nope. I got all the percussion genes in the family.”

  “Are your sisters married? Do they have kids? Are you an uncle?” She wondered what Gabe was like with kids. Weren’t men who were good with animals supposed to be good with kids? His dogs obviously adored him.

  “Not yet. My mom is dying for grandkids,” he said. “I’m glad she has my sisters to pester about it. Being the youngest and her only son does have its perks.”

  Under a running tap, Melanie rinsed the conditioner from her hair and turned to face him.

  “Can we go fishing now?” she asked.

  “Breakfast first,” he said.

  She’d forgotten she was starving. “Okay, then fishing.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to go fishing.”

  “I couldn’t care less about fishing,” she admitted, “but we’ll have all day together to talk just like this, right?”

  He smiled with thought-shattering perfection. “I suppose we will.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. “Best plans ever. We don’t even have to make love for the rest of the day, and I’ll be perfectly content.”

  Gabe lifted both hands to in an attempt to calm her obvious hysterics. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” he said. “Let’s not get hasty here.”

  Melanie climbed from the tub, and reached for a towel. “I’ll also be perfectly content with anything you want to try, Dr. Kink.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The diner was quaint, the kind of place a person wouldn’t likely visit if they were just passing by. The locals held no such qualms regarding the outdated décor and sagging awning outside. Apparently they came for the food, not the ambiance. Melanie tried not to notice the dirty grout between the linoleum tiles or the spots on her fork.

  “Well, if it isn’t Gabriel Banner,” their waitress said.

  “Hey, Fiona,” Gabe said.

  “What brings you to town, sugar?” Fiona nodded toward Melanie. “I’d guess it was the purty lady, but I ain’t never seen her before, so she cain’t be local.”

  “We came all the way from New Orleans just for your mama’s biscuits and sausage gravy. You know I can’t stay away.”

  She laughed and tapped the bill of Gabe’s ball cap with her order pad. Melanie might have been jealous of the woman’s obvious flirting, but she had to have been pushing eighty. Melanie couldn’t imagine how her mama was still capable of running the kitchen of a busy restaurant.

  “I don’t know why I even bother to take your order. What would your lady friend like?” Fiona stood with her pen hovering over her tablet.

  “What’s good?” Melanie asked, looking over the single page menu in its yellowed plastic sleeve.

  “Uh, the sausage gravy and biscuits are good,” Gabe said. “I’ve never tried anything else.”

  “He’s been coming here since he was knee-high to an armadillo,” Fiona said. “And he a
lways gets the same thing. Always. Always.”

  “I guess I’ll have what he’s having,” Melanie said. “I hope my