by Marie James
“Tell me you forgive me at least,” he pleads, his voice broken and full of unspoken emotion.
I focus my eyes on the ceiling, only blinking when they become full of my tears.
Chapter 35
Wren
I knew walking out of here with a broken heart was always a possibility.
I knew that my fuckups could be what ruined my life.
If she tells me to eat dirt, I can’t really blame her.
I broke her trust.
Lies of omission are still lies.
And she’s right. I did go after her online. I did put myself in the position for her to help me on that game. I did strike up conversation and flirt with her knowing exactly who she was.
But who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get to know the love of their life better? I didn’t know I was head over heels for her until those words came from my lips, but the minute they were out, I felt them soul deep, and I know no matter what her response is, I’ll feel this way for the rest of my life whether she’s in my arms or not.
“Liars are a hard limit for me,” she whispers, her words broken but filled with determination.
My heart cracks a little more, and I pull my mouth from her skin.
“I’ll never utter another lie to you,” I vow, even though I doubt it will make any damn difference.
She lifts her head, seeking my eyes.
“I swear, baby. Never again.”
“Make me come.”
I search her face, looking for the anger I heard in her words earlier, but they merely glisten with her tears and need.
“Am I forgiven?”
Time slows to a stop, the seconds taking a year a piece as I wait.
She nods once, blinking another tear down her cheek, and I want to whoop for joy. I want to scream the roof down that she won’t hate me forever. I know it’s not an offer for everything I want from her, but it’s the first step. If she forgives me, it means she doesn’t hate me, and that’s something I can build on.
“I need to hear the words, angel.”
“Forgiven,” she whispers. “I forgive you.”
The first strike of my mouth lands just above her clit, and the second hits pay dirt. Her moan of pleasure is a symphony composed by angels. She writhes against my mouth, coming faster than I ever thought possible, but ending this now isn’t possible, so I’m relentless. I suck her swollen clit in my mouth, pressing fingers against her clenching core, relishing the response of her body to mine.
I’m fucking filthy, the dirtiest person I know using her body against her, but I knew while she was stuck in her head, we’d spend days or even weeks before she came to her senses. She never opened her mouth once to tell me it was too much, to whisper or even yell her safeword. And that tells me she wants and needs me as much as I do her. We’re perfect for each other, something I’ve known all along, and after tonight, I hope she understands as well.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chants, her arms struggling against the chains as she comes over and over on my tongue.
Fuck, if it were possible to drink from her like this for the rest of my life, I’d live on only the things her body had to offer.
I want to dive in. I want to slide my cock through the slickness of her releases, and impale her on my cock, but she’s whimpering, her cries of ecstasy quickly turning into sobs.
I move as fast as possible, releasing first her legs then her arms from the restraints and drag her to my chest. She settles against me, the warmth of her body on my lap a balm to my injured soul.
“Baby.” I push damp hair from her eyes, but she buries her head in my chest. “Tell me why you’re crying.”
It’s a plea, because dominance and demands have no place in this moment right now. Aftercare isn’t about power, and only assholes try to transform it into such.
“I hated that I had to walk away,” she sobs, her fingers digging into my shirt as if she’s afraid I’m going to walk away from her. “You understand that, right?”
I knew she walked away. I’ve been burning with her absence the last two days. “I do. I’m also glad you gave me the chance to explain my position in all of this.”
She huffs, the derision clear in the sound. “Gave you a chance? You tied me to the bed.”
I smile against her head at the lightness in her tone. “You never used your safeword.”
With the crook of one finger, I lift her head so I can see her pretty eyes. I wipe tears away with my thumbs as she blinks up at me. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Whitney Nelson. Do you want to leave?”
Her eyes search mine, looking for answers, but she won’t find an opinion as far as I’m concerned. My choice is her choice. Her pretty white teeth dig into her bottom lip, gathering all of my attention.
“No,” she whispers.
“Do you want to go to the bar for another drink?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve already had my allotted two.”
“Do you want to get dressed—”
“No.”
“—and wander around,” I continue after she answers. “Do you want to stay here and play?”
Her teeth find her bottom lip once again, and even though it’s clear what her answer is, I need the words.
“Answer me,” I growl.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I want to play.”
I unhook my arm from around her waist and land a stinging slap to her exposed thigh. “Then get up.”
She squeals, the sounds going straight to my cock and drawing my nuts up tight. Tonight’s going to be fun, but it’s going to be fast.
“You have three minutes to get my clothes off and get my cock in your throat.”
She laughs when I fall back against the bed, giving her no help whatsoever to remove my slacks. She struggles with the zipper from her eager fingers not wanting to work correctly, but my weight nearly prevents her from getting my pants down my legs.
“Rip my clothes and I’m going to spank your ass.”
Her eyes find mine as her hands yank. The sound of popping stitches echoes around the room. She blinks up at me, her faux innocence making my dick jerk against the elastic of my boxers.
“Vixen,” I hiss, flipping her over and breaking several more stitches because my pants are tight around my thighs. I settle between her thighs, and she opens for me like we’re both exactly where we belong.
“Naked,” she complains, her fingers shoving at the fabric of my shoulders.
“Later,” I insist, pushing down my pants and boxers enough to allow my cock to spring free.
She stiffens, then moans when my bare cock brushes against her engorged clit. “Please?”
“This?” I tease, running my length up and down her drenched center.
“Please don’t make me beg, not tonight.”
The emotion in her words isn’t something I’m going to fight her on.
“Bare?” I whisper, knowing I should ease back and let her make this decision while she isn’t engulfed in a cloud of arousal, but she grips my arms when I try to do just that.
“Yes.” Her head nods as she’s trying to assure me with more than just words.
Our eyes lock when I flex my hips back and find her entrance. My mouth opens on a gasp when I slide home. This was a mistake. Not entering her without a condom but the fact that my plans were blown away. I need her mouth first because without that release of pressure, I’m going to embarrass myself the same way I did humping my fucking blankets the other night. Jesus, why can’t I fucking plan things better? Why can’t I show a little damn restraint? Why do I let the scent of her skin and the way she clings to me take over?
I’m supposed to be commanding her, making all the decisions, and here she is topping from the damn bottom. And fuck if it isn’t the best thing I’ve ever experienced. To make me feel more in control, I flip over on my back, taking her with me. If she’s going to top, she might as well be riding.
Her obedience as she’s pushing her thighs out as far as they can go doesn’t give me an ounce of the power back that I’ve relinquished to her.
“Fuck, baby. This pussy is what heaven is made of.” I bite the inside of my cheek, my hips angling up. “Keep rolling your hips like that. Jesus, you’re gonna make me come so hard. Fuck me, baby. Just like that.”
“Wren,” she gasps when my hands clamp on her hips.
I hold her aloft, fucking her from below, my cock sliding out to the tip before driving back inside of her. Light shines off the wetness she leaves behind, and her desire is pooling on my balls, the contrast in sensation from her hot cunt to the air on my nuts is going to be my damn downfall.
“Baby,” I pant. “Gonna fucking come.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m the one whimpering at her loss.
I’m a half of a second away from reaching for her again, an animal that has no control, but then her mouth is on me, licking away her arousal, tasting what she left behind, lips and cheeks sucking and slurping. The sounds fill the air around us, but I can’t concentrate on that because I’m coming, detonating, and seeing stars. With an open mouth, she accepts rope after rope of cum as it slashes against her tongue, and the sight only fuels my orgasm, giving it the power to continue for what seems like eons. Stripes paint her pretty lips, and my balls, although empty, tighten more when her pretty pink tongue snakes out to swipe it away.
I wipe away what her tongue can’t reach, but she catches my hand, dipping my thumb into her mouth while her eyes bore into mine. I use it as a hook to drag her up my body, first kissing her mouth before licking inside. We’re the perfect combination on her tongue.
When her needy hips swivel against me, I do the only thing I can. I drag her further up my body and show her with my mouth what I can’t say with words.
Chapter 36
Whitney
“They hate each other,” I complain as I watch Simon’s tail swish on the floor.
Puff Daddy stares down at my cat from the curtain rod, so high up that his head brushes the ceiling.
“They’re just getting to know each other,” Wren assures me.
“Go away, demon spawn!” He’s so loud, I’m certain the neighbors can hear him.
Simon’s only response is a guttural growl from deep in his throat.
“Plus, Puff is a complete asshole. He tortures that damn cat. He deserves what he gets.”
“You say that now,” I turn in the circle of Wren’s arms and press a kiss to his stubbly jaw, “but I have the feeling you’ll be very upset if my cat eats your bird.”
“Simon doesn’t have a chance at catching him. He’s too fat.”
“Hardly fat,” I argue, pulling back so he can see the disdain on my face.
“Obese. Isn’t that the word the lady at the pet hotel used?”
I scoff. “Neutered cats are fat. It’s science.”
“I can agree with that.” He smiles down at me, not allowing me to pull fully away from him. Honestly, I don’t want to go anywhere. In his arms is the only place I want to be.
“Are you sore?”
“No,” I whisper into his chest.
“I rode you pretty hard this morning.”
God, did he. For a second, I thought he was going to shove me all the way through the mattress.
“I survived.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Your handprint stayed on my ass for over an hour,” I remind him.
“You came before I gave you permission. You know the rules.”
We’ve lined out many more things since we returned from California yesterday, going over a detailed list of kinks we found online, some I hadn’t even considered. We haven’t made any real plans about our future, but we decided that whatever it is, we want to do it together.
“I’m going to make lunch,” he says with his lips pressed to the top of my head.
I give a final squeeze and step back. As much as I’d like to take this conversation to the bedroom, I’m starving and he promised his nana’s favorite lasagna and garlic bread.
I busy myself with making the bed—because it’s so much fun to mess up again—while Wren works in the kitchen. Simon howls in the living room, while Puff screams obscenities at him.
Is this what bliss is like? It feels like it.
The doorbell chimes, which is weird because I didn’t hear the intercom announce anyone. That means that it’s someone who has access to this floor because without a keycard, no one can get up here.
I walk toward the front door, a smile on my face, telling the animals to calm down.
“Absolutely not,” I hear from the other side. “There’s no way to defend his actions. He stalked that poor girl for months. I’m not letting him off the hook this tim—”
I open the door, finding Deacon Black’s piercing blue eyes assessing mine. Anna, his gorgeous wife, tugs on his sleeve, trying to get his attention.
“Calm down,” she urges, but Deacon’s jaw ticks.
“Hello,” I squeak, my hands automatically going to the hem of Wren’s shirt.
I’ve had it on all morning, and although he admitted to not wearing button-downs often, it came in mighty handy this morning during a scene. Who knew naughty schoolgirl and filthy principal was a thing?
“Whitney. Lovely to see you again.”
I know his name because I attended his wedding, but I left before we were officially introduced. With what Wren has told me about getting the box and Deacon’s unhappiness about how he was handling the situation concerning me, it’s not a surprise the man knows who I am.
“Who’s at the do—oh fuck.”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Wren standing several feet away with a knife. Garlic butter is smeared down the edge, proving that he was using it to cook with, but he’s now gripping it like he may have to use it as a weapon.
“Put down the knife, Wren.” Even I step to the side at Deacon’s command.
“I’d rather keep it,” Wren answers, his throat working on a swallow.
I inch closer to Wren, but inside I’m doing backflips. I’d bitched to Sarah about the men of BBS possibly being involved with hurting women, and it makes me happy that Deacon isn’t the type of man to let that kind of stuff happen in his business. He was discouraging Wren’s action before I opened the door.
Wren shifts the knife from one hand to the other so he can wrap his arm around my waist. Anna smiles at us, and I can tell she’s trying to keep her cool when it looks like she wants to clap her hands and jump up and down. She keeps her eyes off of Wren, which I’m grateful for considering that he’s only in a pair of loose sweats. The woman is totally in love with her man.
When did I turn into the possessive, jealous type?
“Are you here to give him shit for stalking me for weeks?”
Deacon’s eyes dart to mine, holding my gaze instead of wandering down to my bare thighs.
“I know everything,” I tell them both when Anna’s eyes go wide with my question. “It’s still a sore subject right now, but we’ll get through it.”
Wren’s hold on me tightens, and I feel his breath against my hair. It’s as good as an I love you, and I’m putty in his hands, despite the fact that we have company.
“This motherfucker!” Puff yells as he flies overhead, landing on the top of the mirror in the entryway.
“You sure you want to put up with both of these idiots?” Deacon asks, but I can see his irritation fading away, replaced by a sense of calm. I wouldn’t call the man happy because he’s still frowning, but the anger has left his eyes.
“Wanna fight, asshole?” Puff raises his wings as if they’re hands, but then his head snaps to the side when
he notices Anna. “Hey pretty girl, wanna fuck?”
Deacon growls, but Puff isn’t deterred.
“Come to Daddy!” Puff Daddy struts his stuff on the top of the mirror, nearly falling off when he tries to turn around to strut the other way.
“That fucking bird,” Deacon hisses, “needs to learn some manners.”
“Leave that sweet baby alone.” Anna swats his chest before stepping to the side as Puff drops down to the table. Anna obliges him with scratches on the top of his head.
“Can we talk?” Wren holds me tighter, a barrier between his boss and me with Deacon’s question, but I step away.
“Stop being a pussy.” I pat his chest, press a kiss to his cheek, and walk into the living room.
Anna follows, chuckling.
“You guys are working through your problems?” Anna asks as she sits down beside me.
“Trying to,” I say, somehow not feeling uncomfortable about answering her question even though I’ve never spoken to her before today. “Not trying. We are. We’ll get through it.”
“Takes a strong woman to do something like that.”
And lots of orgasms.
“He challenges me, and I tried to do the same thing with him. I looked everywhere. Just because his firewalls are better than mine doesn’t mean what I did was any more right than what he did.”
Wren was right when he slapped me in the face with that back at the club, and it just showed me how damn hypocritical I’d been. He was right. Our connection was real no matter how we got started and fighting the inevitable just meant we’d lose time with each other. Neither one of us wanted that.
“How was your honeymoon?”
Stars fill her eyes, and we sit on the sofa together talking about her trip and how in love she is. Normally these kinds of conversations would make my skin crawl. People getting all hearts and flowers was never my thing, but an hour later when the guys emerge from Wren’s home office, and I see his smiling face, I realize hearts and flowers is exactly the life I’m living right now.
Anna stands, molding herself into Deacon’s side the second he’s within reach. We make loose plans about hanging out before they leave, and I find myself gravitating right into Wren’s side.