His to Bind

by Charlotte Byrd

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says.

  “What?”

  “You promise?”

  I narrow my eyes and look him up and down. “Well, I can’t really promise anything like that, can I? Until I know what you’re going to say.”

  “Okay, okay.” He waves his hand. A big smile broadens his face.

  “What? What is it? You’re freaking me out.”

  “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m starting to see the baby.”

  I glance down at my quite visible stomach. It’s bigger than a pouch now. Now, there’s something definitely in there.

  I give him a little wink.

  “You’re beautiful. So, beautiful,” he whispers. “I just can’t believe that you’re having my baby.”

  I shake my head and bury my face in his shoulders. It’s hard to explain how it feels to have someone be there for you through your pregnancy. This would be the hardest part of my life up to this point even if I weren’t going through all that other stuff. And to not have him beside me right now and fully supporting me? Well, I just don’t know. I have mad respect for all those single mothers out there and pregnant women who are doing it on their own.

  “Why did you think I would get offended?” I ask after a moment.

  “I just wanted to convey that I think you are beautiful. I didn’t want you to think I thought you were fat or anything like that, just because you are showing so much.”

  I look down at my belly again.

  “Am I really showing that much?”

  I stand up and walk over to the floor length window. Oh. My. God. I am showing. A lot. This baby is practically protruding out of me. It’s funny how days tend to pass without you really looking at yourself. I mean, I’ve taken showers and gotten ready. But I haven’t really seen myself.

  “The baby is quite big now,” I say.

  “How far along?”

  “Um, let’s see.” I try to count back to the last time I saw the doctor. It wasn’t that long ago. And yet, I have practically no memory of it.

  “It’s either nineteen or twenty weeks now,” I say. “I think. The last bit of time is all blending together if you know what I mean.”

  “I wonder why.”

  I go back to the bed and sit down next to him. I wrap myself in the sheet and run my fingers through his hair.

  “So, I was thinking,” he says after a moment. “What do you think about finding out the gender?”

  I smile. I’ve been meaning to talk to him about that, but there wasn’t really any time.

  “I really want to know,” I say. “I wasn’t sure if you did though.”

  “I do,” he says.

  “But my doctor is back in New York. And I’m not allowed to leave the state.”

  Wow, those words sound so odd coming out of my mouth. I am actually out on bail. I’m prohibited from leaving the state. Whose life is this? Definitely not this quaint little English major who spent all of her days reading books and writing stories.

  “That’s okay. I can schedule an appointment with someone here.”

  “Okay, let’s do that,” I say as he pulls me back on top of him. “By the way, that’s not really what it’s called anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” Aiden asks, moving a few strands of hair out of my face.

  “Gender. I mean, they do call the parties ‘a gender reveal,’ but it’s not really the gender that we’re finding out. It’s the sex.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Gender is a socially-constructed concept. People are born a particular sex and then they become a specific gender. Like someone can be born a woman with a vagina, but they may grow up and identify themselves as a man. She may feel like more of a man so she can then refer to herself as a man and use the ‘he’ pronoun.”

  Aiden thinks about this for a moment. “That makes sense.”

  “So, when we go get an ultrasound, we will find out the sex of the baby,” I clarify further. “Do you care what it is?”

  “You mean, boy or girl?”

  I nod.

  “Not one single bit,” he says almost immediately.

  “Really? I thought that guys always wanted to have a boy.”

  “And I thought that girls always wanted to have a girl,” he challenges me.

  I shrug. “You know, come to think of it, I don’t really care either. I’m actually excited to find out.”

  Chapter 7 - Ellie

  The following afternoon…

  The following morning we meet with more lawyers. I’m still getting used to just the kind of important guy that Aiden is, because they all come to our suite. I thought we would spend the day waiting in big glass buildings where everyone is dressed in expensive suits, but instead he doesn’t even get out of his pajamas. I get dressed up by putting on a pair of leggings.

  We meet with three attorneys, each one seems sort of like the other. We talk briefly about the case and ask them questions about their other clients. Aiden really takes this part over for me. He feels terrible about what happened with Bill Whitney and his unprofessionalism and is making up for it by grilling the new prospects. When the last one leaves, he turns to me to see what I thought.

  “I really don’t know.” I shrug. “I mean, how do you even evaluate how good a criminal law attorney is anyway? Until the thing goes to trial, that is.”

  “Let’s hope that it won’t get that far.”

  “Really? Is that still a possibility?”

  “I have hope,” Aiden says, tilting his head. “Hey, what do you think about Thurston?”

  “The lawyer who got me bail? He seemed alright.”

  “He was very eager. But also confident. Not lazy,” Aiden says, measuring him up. “I’m going to have another chat with him.”

  I smile at him. I like seeing him back in command. After watching him lying there lifelessly in the hospital room, this is quite a change. It reminds me of the man I first met. The man who I fell in love with. That arrogant, cocky stranger who bid on me at the auction. I get a little excited thinking about that again.

  “What is it?” Aiden asks, sensing my change in mood. I smile a little at the corner of my lips.

  “What?” he asks again, pulling me closer to him. I sit down on his lap. I lower my head and kiss him on the lips. He reciprocates by pressing into me. I run my fingers over his hard chest. He buries his head in my hair, sending shivers down my spine.

  “Are you in the mood for a little break?” he asks.

  “Depends. What do you have in mind?”

  “I want to do bad things to you.”

  “Oh, really?” I feel myself get a little flushed.

  “Mr. Black wants to do bad things to you,” he clarifies. I close my eyes. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for some time now.

  “I’d like that,” I say slowly.

  “You’d like what?” Mr. Black asks.

  “I’d like for you to do bad things to me…Mr. Black.” My whole body tenses in eager anticipation of what’s to come. I point my toes to release some of the tension, but it’s to no avail.

  “Hmmm, let me see,” Mr. Black says. He raises his chin, lost in thought. “How shall I punish you, my dear?”

  There’s that word again. Punish. It’s unassuming and not at all dangerous and yet it makes my heart jump into my throat. In a good way.

  Without another word, he suddenly opens his legs and pushes me onto my stomach on his lap. He’s careful to make his way around my belly, making more room than necessary in between his legs. With one swift motion, he pulls down my pants, exposing my butt.

  Suddenly, my whole body starts to shake. In a good way. From anticipation. We’ve never done anything like this before and the excitement is even making me sweaty. Mr. Black runs his hand around one of my butt cheeks, giving me a little smack. Then he does the same thing to my other butt cheek. Moving the rest of me closer to the ground, so that my head is practically resting on the floor, he open
s my legs.

  “Wider,” he instructs and I do as he says.

  He takes his finger and pushes it inside of me. I exhale deeply. He takes his finger out of me and licks it.

  “Delicious,” he says. I feel myself blush. I move my head to look at him, but he pushes me back down.

  “I didn’t say you could look.”

  “Can I?”

  “No,” he says, slapping my butt. “And you are supposed to call me Mr. Black, remember?”

  I nod.

  He grabs my butt cheeks with both hands and pulls them apart. I moan in pleasure. Then he runs his finger around my butt and inner thighs, toying with me. Large concentric circles become smaller concentric circles. He focuses his energy around my core, but he doesn’t dare touch. Games. Games. Oh, how I love his games.

  A moment later, he is inside of me. In my ass. He pushes his finger deeper and deeper and I moan louder and louder. With his other hand, he presses on my clitoris and begins to rub.

  “Oh….Mr. Black,” I moan. Just calling him that gets me wet. But just as things get even more exciting, he stops.

  “Noooo,” I complain. But he just rearranges me before him. He takes his tie and ties my hands behind my back. Then he opens his fly, pulls down his pants, and positions my face in front of his hard cock. Then he opens my mouth and slides inside. I suck and lick until my jaw feels like it’s about to clench shut. He moans my name and it sends shivers down my spine.

  Just as he is getting close, he pulls out.

  “Oh, please?” I moan. “Will you come for me, Mr. Black?”

  “No,” he says categorically. “You are going to come for me. When and where I say.”

  My body thrusts into a cold sweat. I’m both excited and scared at the same time.

  He pulls me up to my feet. Keeping my hands tied behind me, he flicks one of my nipples and then the other with his finger. Then he puts one in his mouth as he massages my other breast. The space between my legs starts to throb. I step from one foot to another trying to calm myself down. Mr. Black grabs another tie and ties it around my eyes. Now, I can’t see anything.

  “Sit down as if you were sitting on a chair,” he instructs. I do as he says. “Now, open your legs. Wide.”

  Again, I do as he says. “Wider.”

  Now, I’m balancing on the balls of my feet, with my womanhood opened wide in front of him. I can’t see a thing, but suddenly, I start to feel everything. Every breath he exhales. Every tense muscle in his body.

  He presses something cool and hard against my clitoris and begins to move it up and down. I’m so wet that it glides along easily, adding to the sensation. He walks around me, keeping his one hand on me and then pushes something smooth and hard inside of my butt. It’s small, but it fills up every space within me.

  “Oh my…” I whisper.

  “Yes?” he asks. I can sense the smile on his face.

  “Oh, Mr. Black,” I say. The sensation is overwhelming me. At any moment, I’m about to burst.

  But right before I do, Mr. Black stops.

  “Get on your knees,” he says. I do as he says. He unties my hands and ties them again in the front. Then he pulls me forward.

  “Follow me,” he says. I follow him on my knees across the room. Occasionally, he stops and I suck on him until he tells me to stop. He ties my hands to something hard. He doesn’t let me get up. Instead, he pulls my butt up higher in the air.

  “Now, we’re really going to have some fun,” he says. With that, he pushes the familiar smooth object inside my butt as I moan from pleasure. Then he pushes something big and hard inside of me and turns it on. It starts to vibrate, sending impulses through my whole body. Another part of it presses on my clit, only intensifying the sensation.

  My eyes roll to the back of my head, even though I’m blindfolded.

  “Mr. Black,” I moan.

  “Yes?” he asks, turning the speed up and sending my moans into overdrive.

  “I need to come.”

  “No,” he says. “You will wait until I say so.”

  I try to hold on. I grab on to something that feels like a bedsheet in front of me and dig my fingers into it. Just as I think that I can’t hold on any more, he pulls away from me.

  Again, he pulls me up to my feet. This time, I can barely stand up. I’m angry with him. Furious. How dare he not let me experience pleasure? Who the hell does he think he is? What if I can’t get there again?

  And just as I’m about to call him an asshole to his face, he clips something cold and sharp onto my right nipple. Then my left.

  “What’s that?” I ask. It feels…good. There’s a little weight to them and they are connected by a chain. The clips send a tingling sensation through my body, especially when he plays with them with his tongue.

  “Hmmm, that feels…good,” I whisper.

  “I’m glad,” he says sternly.

  He pushes me back down on my knees.

  “Follow me,” he instructs again. I do as he says. My nipples burn a little as the chain moves along with me, but in a really arousing way. What’s next? I wonder. I don’t think I can handle much else.

  Just then, my legs run into something round and hard and he guides my body up and down onto it. It’s like a desk except that it’s soft and cylindrical. Mr. Black unties my hands and ties them around this object. I lie down on it with my ass exposed on the other side.

  Mr. Black walks all around me, running his fingers over my back and down my butt cheeks. Then he inserts the familiar hard object back in my ass. This time, I almost come as soon as he touches me with it.

  “No, not yet,” Mr. Black says, and I do as he says. I’m expecting him to finally glide himself inside of me. I’m practically begging him to. But he doesn’t. Instead, he walks around and pulls my head up by my hair. He thrusts his large cock inside of my mouth and then pulls on a string, activating the object inside my ass.

  “Oh my God,” I mumble with my mouth full of him. With each thrust, he pulls on the object a little more and I squeeze my butt cheeks in pleasure.

  After a few moments, I’m dripping wet. He pulls out of my mouth and finally glides inside of me. Deep. Strong. His thrusts fill me completely.

  “Come for me,” he says and every inch of my body fills with warmth and pleasure before he finishes his sentence.

  While I’m still in full swing of my pleasure, he starts to move faster and moan louder. A few moments later, he yells my name and collapses on top of me, completely spent.

  Chapter 8 - Ellie

  When we make plans…

  The following morning, we manage to finally untangle from one another and leave the hotel room. I had forgotten how much I have missed actually being with Aiden. It’s not just the sex though. It’s the way he makes me feel. Loved. Protected. Understood. Seen. Our sex life is an expression of that. I can give into him because he is there for me. I can give up control and let go because I trust him implicitly. In addition to my lover and fiancé, and soon the father of my baby, Aiden Black is also my best friend.

  It’s a cold dreary day where the clouds are hanging far lower than they have any right to. What is it about the cold in the Northeast that chills you down to your bones? As soon as I opened my eyes this morning, I knew that the last thing that I wanted to do is go outside today. But Aiden insists on it. He got us in to see one of the best OBGYNs in the Boston area and she is squeezing us in between patients. Basically, this is a big favor. So, we can’t just not show up.

  “But it’s raining,” I complain as I am getting dressed. “And I’m pregnant.”

  “So?” He laughs, putting on a nice pair of slacks and a dress shirt. No tie. Only a jacket.

  “Don’t I get to not do things I don’t want to do when I’m pregnant?”

  “Yes, typically. But not when it comes to going to the doctor. Besides, we’re going to find out the sex today!”

  His eyes light up at the statement. He’s really excited to find out. Don’t get me wrong. I am
, too. But I’m also really tired and run down. Just standing up is making my head swim.

  “Okay, how about this? If you hurry and go, I will get you anything you want afterward?”

  “Anything?” Now my eyes light up. Aiden nods, handing me my coat.

  “How about I never have to go again?” I joke, but only partly. Seriously, I hate going to doctors. And I particularly hate going to see gynecologists. That’s one of the reasons I never have until I got pregnant. Doctors are a fear of mine. An irrational fear, I know. But what fears are rational? Aren’t all of them irrational simply as a result of the fact that they are fears?

  “How about we get some ice cream on the way home?” Aiden asks. “A gallon of whatever you want.”

  “It’s freezing out!” I stare at him, dumbfounded. Shocked by the fact that he would even suggest such a thing.

  “So? It’s ice cream. It doesn’t matter what time of year it is.”

  I follow him out of the door, shaking my head.

  “You have to be kidding,” I say. “I only eat ice cream in the summer.”

  “How could I not know that?” he asks. “I think I have to re-evaluate this whole relationship now. No, I don’t think I can be with someone who only eats ice cream in the summer.”

  There’s a town car waiting for us right outside the door, so I don’t have to spend much time in the freezing cold drizzle. The town car is warm and inviting and there’s even a little coffee machine in the back. Aiden makes me a little cup of tea to warm me up even more.

  “God, I wish I was pregnant in the summer. I’m so cold all the time,” I moan. Aiden just takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze.

  We arrive at a beautiful glass medical building fifteen minutes later. The driver drops us off right in the front and Aiden holds my hand as we make our way inside. Riding up the elevator, I expect that this whole procedure is going to follow the usual process. First, I’d have to fill out about a million forms on a clipboard. Then I will have to wait as the office manager enters all that information into the computer and makes calls checking to see if I do indeed have insurance and how much co-pay they will have to charge me. All of this back and forth typically eats up an hour or so. But much to my surprise, we are cordially invited to the back room right away after I tell them who I am. No clipboard. No co-pay. Not even giving out my insurance card.