****
Ally whimpered as Greg seemed to withdraw. He didn't actually go anywhere, his fingers were still buried in her body, but he seemed to be in deep thought. She had no idea what to do. She walked a narrow edge of desire, wanting, needing him to take control but unwilling to push him into something he didn't want to do.
But then, almost as if he'd made a decision, he pressed closer, trailed a hand up her belly, over her breasts and shoulders and threaded his fingers in her hair. His other hand started moving against her mound, his fingers wiggling deeper, and the heel of his hand pressing hard against her clit.
He fisted the hand in her hair, pulling her head back so she looked into his eyes and then gave her an order, "Come for me."
And she did. Oh God, how she did. Every muscle, every nerve ending, every cell in her body snapped to attention at his words. Heat exploded through her. Her pussy pulsed, massaging his fingers, coating them with cream, quivering harder even as he gentled his movements.
He leaned closer, pulled her head forward and pressed her face against the soft material of his tee-shirt. He breathed almost as hard as she did and for a moment she wondered if she should've done something for him. Hell, this was the first time she'd had an orgasm against a wall, the least she could've done was help him with his.
She tried to lift her head away but he pressed her face against him, rocking slightly as he smoothed his hand through her hair over and over. She held on to him, uncertain why he would hold her so tightly, but very happy to be held this way.
After several minutes he breathed out heavily and took a small step back. She watched his face closely, trying to understand his reaction. Did he regret what they'd just done?
"Greg?" she asked quietly, her usual self confidence fleeing in the face of his unexpected reaction.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, not really looking her in the eye.
"What? Why?" She must've yelped the words because his gaze swung to hers immediately.
"I…" He hesitated, took another step back and then tried again. "I pulled your hair." He looked as confused as she felt.
"I…um…liked it." She prayed she wasn't making a big mistake. She knew there was more to love play than what they'd explored together. Granted, she didn't have any experience with the wilder side her sister and friends had described, but Ally certainly wanted to try at least a few different things.
Greg looked at her like he'd never seen her before, while she tried to pretend she hadn't actually admitted anything. She could feel a heated blush climbing her throat and was searching for something to say when he smiled. But not just his regular smile. No, this was the type of smile the wolf wore after he ate grandma.
He stepped forward and touched the stiff peaks of her breasts. "Is that so?" He tugged hard on the sensitive nubs and she had to lock her knees again to stop from sliding down the wall. "Anything else you'd like to try?"
"Uh…" She blushed and this time she felt pretty sure it covered her neck, breasts and stomach as well. Hell, it probably covered her ass, too. "Some of the stuff they described sounded interesting." Okay, she was hedging, but hell, she'd only just discovered this need inside her, talking about it felt really weird.
And very, very naughty.
Her husband raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.
"The nipple clamps sounded interesting in a painful sort of way." He looked shocked at her answer and again she scrambled for a way to take back the words. But then he smiled that smile again and squeezed her nipples really, really hard, twisting slightly. Her pussy convulsed, heat exploding in her belly as liquid fire travelled her veins. She gasped, panting for breath, practically on the verge of orgasm again. Never in a million years would she have expected such overwhelming pleasure from that sort of pain.
"Open your eyes," he ordered, when her lids fluttered closed. As she tried to catch her breath he slowly released his grip.
"You find pleasure in pain." He mumbled the words almost as if he was talking to himself. "How the hell did I miss that?"
"What?" Ally shook her head, wondering if she'd woken in some strange alternate reality. He seemed pleased. Pleased by her reaction? God, the man who stood before her seemed stranger than the husband she'd grown comfortable with, and she had no idea where this conversation was heading.
She glanced down at her jeans still pooled around her feet and wondered what she should do now.
Her husband made the decision for her.
"Step out," he said, and knelt at her feet to remove her shoes. Her jeans and underwear came next. He threw them onto the lounge, and then pushed the shirt from her shoulders before undoing the back clasp of her bra.
Completely naked and feeling more than a little vulnerable, she squirmed as he simply looked his fill, his gaze traveling up and down her body. He lifted her hair over her shoulders arranging the strands so the tips brushed against her erect nipples.
"You're so beautiful," he said reverently, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. Greg pulled back with a smile, and then bent and lifted her over his shoulder. She writhed and giggled as the blood ran to her head, but gasped when he smacked the back of her thigh, hard. "Stay still," he said sternly. Heat radiated from the sting and she found herself fighting arousal once again. "Beautiful," he whispered, massaging her heated flesh.
He carried her all the way to their bedroom and then placed her on her feet in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Very deliberately he pulled her face-down over his lap. He moved slowly, slow enough for her to protest, but when she didn't stop him he gathered both hands behind her back and held her still. Ally could barely breathe her body and mind a riot of sensations and thoughts. She felt trapped and helpless with absolutely no control and yet she loved it.
She knew Greg would keep her safe.
****
Greg held her still, watching, waiting, praying she wouldn't protest. He needed this, needed her faith, her trust, more than he needed his next breath. When she relaxed in his grip, he felt the tension flow from him. Trust. She trusted him and he'd never before received such an amazing gift. Without any idea what he intended, his beautiful wife trusted him not to hurt her, to bring her pleasure, and he loved her even more in that moment than he'd ever imagined possible.
He held her tight as he landed the first slap on her ass. She jumped, trying to escape the harsh sting but he held her immobile, watching, waiting for the pain to morph into pleasure. When she finally relaxed again, he smacked the other cheek. She grunted from the impact but moaned with desire a moment later.
Careful not to hurt her arms, he held her still as he smacked her bottom and thighs over and over until she was moving into the blows, asking for them, begging for his touch. He traced the red welts with his finger tip, dipping into her sweetly soaked pussy and then sliding back over the reddened skin.
She shook against him, panting from her arousal, wriggling to get closer to his questing finger. He knew she was close to orgasm, could feel it in every shiver that coursed through her. One hard flick of her clit and she'd be flying.
He released her wrists, massaging the circulation back into her arms as she slowly relaxed against him. He dipped his hand between her thighs, playing in the juice that dripped from her, spreading it higher to the rosette of her anus. She tensed as he pressed a slippery finger against her forbidden hole.
"Shhh," he soothed quietly. "Let me look at this pretty ass."
She held her breath as he pressed harder against the ring of muscle. "Don't tense," he admonished with a hard slap against the back of her thigh. "Breathe, relax." She did what he told her immediately, again trusting him implicitly. He pressed the top of his finger into her ass and held still. Running one hand up and down her back in a soothing rhythm, he waited for her to relax again before wiggling the digit deeper. She gasped as her orgasm started, her ass clenching against his invading finger.
He watched in awe as his wife lay across his lap shaking and moaning with he
r second orgasm. She released a keening cry when he grabbed the back of her neck, pushing her head down and her ass higher, increasing her need, increasing her vulnerability, increasing the intensity of her climax.
****
Greg soothed her with soft words and gentle caresses and Ally had never felt more loved or cared for in her life. She felt boneless as he lifted her up and arranged her on his lap so that she lay cradled against his heart. She rested her head on his chest and snuggled into his embrace.
Hell, he was still fully clothed.
She'd just experienced the most intense, most unexpected pleasure of her life and her husband was still fully dressed. Shit, if this is what he could do to her with his clothes on, she was in a whole lot of trouble if he decided to get naked too.
She giggled at her silly thoughts and he lifted her away from him to see her face. Concern etched his features for a moment, but then the wolfish smile was back and she had a feeling she was going to find out exactly what he could do.
"Hands and knees," he ordered, as he turned and placed her on the bed. Her arms shook when she heard him hurriedly removing his clothes. They'd done this before—doggie style her friends called it—but he'd been so gentle that she'd felt loved and cherished but strangely unfulfilled. Tonight she suspected things might be a little different.
Understatement.
He entered her in a single thrust, grabbing her hips and slamming into her over and over. There was no gentle build-up, no concerned questions, just raw fucking—and she loved it. God, this was what she'd been missing.
Greg held her hips in his hard grip, his fingers biting into her soft flesh, his rhythm fast and hard. He growled, slapping her thigh and then snaking the hand around her stomach to pinch her clit.
Fuck. Pressure built rapidly, her eyesight blurring as desire rushed through her. Greg fucked her harder, pulled her closer, and squeezed her clit until she exploded. Gasping, thrashing, wriggling, he laid claim to her, possessed her. Owned her. And then he was coming too, his seed pouring into her body as his cock pulsed inside her aching pussy. He pressed his face against her back, both of them breathing raggedly, and then he carefully rolled them onto their sides.
"I love you," he said in a strangely tense voice. His tone sent worry skittering through her. She tried to roll over but he held her tight refusing to let her see his face. She stayed still, acquiescing to his wishes, but something felt wrong. He ran a gentle hand over her ass but this time it didn't feel like he was admiring the pinkened flesh, but rather, trying to smooth away the evidence of what they'd done.
"Greg," she asked in a small voice, "is something wrong?"
He didn't answer, just held her close, soothing her with gentle caresses. She felt tears sting her eyes, the feeling that something wasn't right threatening her composure. Had she asked too much of him? He'd seemed happy to take control but did he regret it now? Was he repulsed by the fact that she'd enjoyed it?
He kissed the top of her head and then slowly rolled off the bed and went into the adjoining bathroom. She held herself rigid, relaxing only slightly when he returned with a wet washcloth and her wild yam cream.
Greg cleaned her with infinite care and gentleness and then rubbed cream into the tender flesh of her bottom and thighs. He pressed against a sensitive spot and she gasped at the unexpected pain.
"Oh, baby girl, I'm so sorry." His voice was choked and tight and sounded full of remorse. She tried to lift up to see what he was referring to, but he held her still for a moment. Then he seemed to second-guess himself and let her sit up.
"Sorry? For what?" she asked as panic began to grow. He was withdrawing emotionally and she felt helpless to stop it. She'd had the most incredible experience of her life and he was pulling away?
"I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry."
"Shouldn't have done what?" She probably sounded like a demented parrot but she needed to know what the hell he was apologizing for.
"All of it." He wouldn't look at her and her heart sank. He regretted what they'd shared and she had no idea where to go from here.
****
Greg couldn't take his eyes off the bruise. He'd spent years training as a Dom and he'd always been certain to control his darker urges. Spankings were always for pleasure, never a punishment, and he'd never left more than pink skin. But today, with the woman who meant more to him than breathing, he'd failed. The bruise on her outer thigh was horrendous, black and blue and edged in red.
How would she ever forgive him?
"I'm sorry," he said again as he tried to pull her back into a spooning embrace. But she fought him and he died just a little as she rounded on him in anger.
"You're sorry? That's all you have to say? You're sorry and it should never have happened?"
He nodded, accepting her anger as his due. He'd fucked up so badly he didn't deserve forgiveness. "I'm sorry," he said once more, "and it won't happen again."
She inhaled sharply and rolled off the bed. He watched her as she grabbed her robe and covered her beautiful body. He couldn't see the bruise anymore but the sight was burned into his brain and he wasn't sure he'd ever close his eyes again without seeing it.
Ally paced at the end of the bed, her temper obviously building. He waited for the explosion. They'd argued many times in the last two years but they'd always been able to work through their differences. Tonight he wasn't so sure.
Looking more agitated than he’d ever seen her, Ally opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, blew out an annoyed breath and then the fight seemed to seep out of her. She stood at the end of the bed looking at him with sad eyes.
"Fuck it," she said quietly.
****
Ally left the room quickly. God, her chest ached like she was being squeezed in a vice. She'd been so happy, so amazed that they seemed to share slightly kinkier needs that the apologies afterward were even more devastating. She'd trusted him, followed his lead and loved every minute of it, and then he'd rejected her.
Hell, if she wasn't so tired and emotionally broken she'd go back into the bedroom and verbally kick his ass. Who the hell did he think he was? And why would he do all of that only to regret it moments later? God, did she even know this man she called husband?
She stared at the woman in the mirror's reflection. She didn't look any different yet in the last half hour everything had changed. It seemed so silly, but even though this morning she'd been happy with their quiet, gentle sex life, the thought of going back to that made her ache with frustration.
She massaged the tensed muscles at the back of her neck, as memories of how wonderful the unexpected pain of having her hair pulled rose to taunt her. She dropped her hand, rolling her head from side to side, trying to ease the tension.
Maybe hot water would help. She dropped her robe and turned toward the shower, but something caught her eye and she turned back to the mirror quickly. Twisting awkwardly, she finally managed to get a good look at the bruise high on her thigh.
Bloody hell, first thing tomorrow she was going to move her desk. If she bumped into that stupid, too low, filing cabinet one more time she was going to break something. This bruise was even worse than the last one. She ran her fingers over the reddish lump in the center and realized it would probably get a lot blacker before it started to heal.
She winced even with the gentle touch and wondered how the hell she didn't notice it when Greg spanked her. Fuck, the orgasm had been so intense she wasn't sure she'd actually felt any pain at all.
A thought crept into her head and she quickly twisted trying to get a better look at the slightly pink skin on the rest of her ass. Did Greg think he'd hurt her? Did he think he was responsible for this bruise?
Her heart rate sped up at the thought. If he was backing away from her because he thought he'd hurt her, then once he understood he wasn't responsible, would everything be okay? She turned to rush back into the bedroom but hesitated.
What if his change in attitude had nothing to do with the brui
se?
She stared in the mirror, grinding her teeth with uncharacteristic indecision.
Did she have the guts to confront this situation head on? To ask for what she wanted? Did she even know what she wanted? The resounding 'yes' in her head was enough to get her feet moving.
****
Greg was wondering where the hell to go from here. How do you put the metaphorical cat back into its bag? He wasn't sure Ally would listen to one more apology so he sat on the edge of their marriage bed and worried for the future.
Ally flung open the bathroom door so hard it bounced off its doorstop and almost hit her in the ass. Completely naked once more, she marched over to him and pointed to the large bruise on her upper thigh.
"Is this it? Is this why you pulled away?" Her words were angry and he really, really didn't want to look at that finger sized bruise again. He nodded and looked away but she moved into his line of vision and asked the question again. "Is this why?"
"Yes," he said, feeling complete disgust at his behavior. She'd trusted him to protect her and he'd let her down.
"Greg?" Her voice sounded so soft and kind now that he didn't quite know how to react. When he looked up at her, she smiled. "This bruise is from the cabinet behind my desk at work. I bump into it at least three times a day. You didn't do this."
Relief poured through him. He'd been so shocked by the deep purple bruise he hadn't really stopped to wonder how he could've caused it. He'd just assumed the spanking had been harder than he'd intended, but now, with her explanation, it made much more sense.
He smiled as she pulled his arms around her and climbed onto his lap. He held her close for a while, just breathing, enjoying the marriage that wasn't nearly as shaky as it had felt a moment ago.
"Greg?" she asked quietly. "Did you enjoy what we did together?"
"Yes," he whispered. "Very much."
"Excellent," she said, surprising him with her enthusiasm, "because I have a whole lot of other things I want us to try." He must've let his mouth fall open because she laughed shyly, touched his face and said, "No sense in letting the butt plug thingy and matching handcuffs go to waste."
'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas Page 11