Wild

by Angel Payne

  “Ohhhh!” At first it was all she could muster, due to her Sir’s utterly abysmal, completely perfect timing. Since he’d chosen to finish his question by moving the pulsating wand to the first inch of her vagina, the Hold button on her brain got punched again. “More,” she finally squeaked. “I need more…inside me…this is driving me crazy…”

  “Mmmm.” He circled the toy in a bit farther before teasing her clit with a tender pinch. “Those words are prettier’n a song from the first bird of spring, baby girl.” His voice dipped to a curious cadence. “But can you be more specific? Inside you, sugar? Where?”

  Sage squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t sure if her senses swam due to her upended position or his ruthless seduction, but her mind started an incredible flight. She was unable to focus on anything but every inch of skin he touched, every sexual nerve he awakened. “My—my pussy,” she stammered. “P-Please…”

  “You want me in your pussy, sweet S? You want me to fuck you with my cock?”

  Wasn’t that what she’d been saying? Yeah, for all she knew, she was spewing out the weather report right now. “Y-Yes! T-Take me hard, Master, please!”

  His answer came after a maddening pause. “I’m more than happy to oblige, sugar.” He shifted, settling his hips tighter inside of hers. “Just wouldn’t want a fully charged pulsating wand to go unenjoyed by my beautiful S. Hmmm, what to do?”

  His roguish tone gave him away. He knew exactly what he was going to do. But so did Sage. Her sex was wide-awake with the electric certainty of it.

  So was her ass.

  Sure enough, a significant click broke the air. He’d flipped open a plastic bottle. The naughty, slightly coconut scent of lube hit her nose in the moment before he slicked some against the rim of her anus. She released a tense hiss.

  “Relax,” Garrett encouraged. “Take a deep breath, S. Push out. You know how this works.”

  “I haven’t known for at least a year,” she countered. Her voice shook, though she knew Garrett would discern the arousal in it as well as the anxiety. This risqué aspect of submission had begun as one of her least favorites but quickly became a naughty delight after Garrett trained her ass to take it. Even when he’d been out on deployment, she’d had instructions for using plugs to keep her ready for his kinky fun back there.

  Fun that had stopped as soon as she hit her second trimester with Race.

  Which he’d clearly forgotten, since he dispensed more of the liquid now. He didn’t bother with coating his fingers first, either. The lube hit her hole with the force of its straight-from-the-tube chill.

  “Aaahhh!” She instinctively fought her bonds as the liquid slid down to new surfaces in her tunnel.

  “Mmmm.” His approval didn’t lessen the shit-eating satisfaction in Garrett’s voice. He accompanied it by swiping a finger around the ring of her hole, gently pushing as he went, gradually stretching her. It was a little painful. A lot sinful. And made her feel even more wildly wicked for him. “Goddamn,” he murmured, intensifying the effect. “Your naughty little rose is so perfect.”

  Sage could only hiss again in response, because he began to work the tip of the wand into her entrance. There was another cold invasion as he poured lube along the length of the toy, silently confirming that he planned on getting the entire thing into her ass.

  Holy shit.

  “M-Master…it’ll never fit.”

  Instead of a verbal response, he only inched the wand in deeper. Right before he turned it on.

  Sage cried out in surprise and fury—and then awe.

  The setting he’d picked was a forceful one, awakening every cell that lined her erotic tunnel. With every other surge from the wand, she was forced to open wider. Between the beats, her muscles retaliated, clutching the wand tight. Like a disco light on the fritz, she was filled with blinding light one moment and plunged into tight darkness the next.

  It was an experience her ass would never forget—and she soon discovered that her pussy wouldn’t, either. Every throb from the toy rocked straight through her inner walls, vibrating her womb in tandem with her anus. Her thighs clenched against the straps, rattling the buckles as her vagina cried in need. It felt like a subsonic bomb of lust had been detonated in her body, decimating her mind and her will in the blast, along with everything else.

  “Fuck me, sugar. You’re like something out of a dream.”

  His growl sifted into her mind. Part of her completely agreed with him. Her senses swam as deliriously as her balance. The walls and ceiling of the loft ceased to exist. She’d be sold on the whole I’m-dreaming-this angle, if not for the pulses that served as blistering, beautiful reminders of her awake, alive state.

  She was going to add insane to that list if he didn’t fill her body with his soon. She tried to tell him as much in a beseeching wail. Surely he saw how her muscles quivered for him. How her pussy dripped. How her body hovered just a match strike between flame and inferno.

  I need to burn up. Master, please!

  Above her, Garrett readjusted his stance. He dug his fingers into one of her hips, lifting her a little and releasing a long, low growl. “I need to be inside this beautiful cunt.”

  He wasn’t getting any argument from her.

  Nevertheless, the barn rafters filled with her shriek as soon as Garrett thrust all the way into her. Yes, she’d craved this. But no, she hadn’t considered how her body would be pushed to its limits, stuffed full by two throbbing staffs united in one quest: to send her over the edge of sanity and into bliss.

  They sure as hell succeeded. Thoughts and concerns, worries and cares, even her damn name, were all evaporated by the incredible heat pounding at both her illicit orifices. Garrett’s strokes, along with the pulsating wand’s incessant cadence, turned her into something that transcended logic, a living prism. Every color in the world blazed through her, set alight by the force of his passion and the magic of his love.

  The joy of it made her mouth part into a giddy sob. Her pussy flickered with a completion she’d never dreamed possible.

  “Master.” It tumbled from her on a gasp. “I—I’m going to—”

  “Oh yeah, little girl…my beautiful Sage. Do it for me.”

  Her head rolled back and forth. “I’m scared. It’s so much. It’s too much. I don’t know—”

  “Of course you know. And of course you can. Give it up for me, S. All of it!”

  The firestorm grew. More colors ripped through her, this time with exposed edges, tearing off pieces of her resistance as they did. No. Bring it back. It belongs to me!

  She had no idea she’d let it spill out loud until Garrett snarled a countermand. “No. It belongs to me. You’ll give it over to me. All of it.” He began to fuck her differently. His strokes were longer, harder, deeper. “Right now, you exist to please me. And you’re going to please me by coming for me.”

  “Y-Yessss, Massss—”

  She couldn’t say anything else. Her lungs seized. Her heart stopped. There was only Garrett now. His grip was her steel-strong anchor. His snarling breaths kept her alive. His cock, thick and dominating, injected new fire into her body with every ruthless thrust until the blaze consumed her whole, incinerating her from the inside out.

  She screamed. Or thought she did. For all she knew, she’d just sung “The Star-Spangled Banner” as her body imploded and her mind was pulverized into stunning silver dust. Garrett’s bellow of completion became a part of that mindless mix before he shot his torrent deep inside her, searing her walls…completing her soul.

  While he still rocked inside her, he switched off the wand and carefully slid it out of her ass. The ropes around her arms came next. With a few deft tugs, they were loose enough to fall free. After unlatching her legs, he pulled her up by the elbows and guided her arms to encircle his neck. From instinct, Sage wrapped her thighs around his waist. The feel of his body inside her, around her…the knowledge that he was here, strong and alive… It brought a moment of peace she never dreamed of enj
oying again.

  The comprehension swept over her like a surprise thunder squall. And her heart hadn’t brought an umbrella.

  “Don’t make me let go.” The words were barely a whisper, but his deep sigh told her he’d heard.

  “Hang on as tight as you want, sugar. For the rest of our lives.”

  The gift of his strength, wrapped in such perfect softness, snapped off the last latches on her self-control. The sobs came, heavy and profound, raining from her heart in a devastating mix of fear and joy, heartache and elation, terror and triumph. She let it all crash over her as Garrett quickly unlocked her legs before carrying her back to the bed, continuing to hold her close.

  It was one of the most miraculous moments of her life.

  The realization made her spit out a giddy laugh. Yeah, she was a mess. She’d pretty much expected that. What she hadn’t foreseen was getting into the thick of this breakdown and having a moment of such surreal clarity, it made her openly gasp—and laugh.

  She’d spent the last five months wallowing in a swamp of self-pity when what she’d really had was a life. The universe had brought her back from the dead, into the arms of the man with whom she shared a soul, with a kapow of everything life was supposed to be: the lows as well as the highs, the uncertainties as well as the securities, the tear-filled goodbyes…as well as the treasured hellos.

  Just like the one she gave her husband now.

  “Thank you for rescuing me.” She settled a kiss on his sinfully rugged lips. “Again.”

  Garrett returned the kiss and kept his head dipped to keep her eyes locked on him. “You’re welcome, but you know it’s not all over yet. You’ll go see Shrink Sally once we’re home, Sage. It’s not a request anymore. You need to process some heavy shit, stuff I’m not mentally set up to help you with anymore.”

  “I know.” To prove she meant it, she framed his face with her hands and nodded emphatically. “I do.”

  “Yeah, and about that little phrase.” He swept up her left hand and kissed the wedding ring on it. “You’re also ordered to start putting together that damn Princess Bride wedding you want to have, before I change my mind about agreeing to look like fucking Christopher Columbus.”

  She didn’t hold back her jubilant smile. “Readily obeyed, Sir! I prom—” Her own gasp sliced into the thought. “Holy shit, Master. Is that a fresh flogger between your thighs or has Renaissance fashion become a new fetish for you?”

  Garrett curled his lips in a sensual smirk. “I don’t fuck around with fetishes, woman.” The grin dissolved as his jaw clenched, his forehead furrowed, and his cock pushed against her aching walls. “That’s just my wife’s tight, sexy pussy making me hard all over again.”

  She gasped in delight as he lowered his grip to her waist and began pumping her onto his staff with defined purpose. Her thighs tingled; her clit stiffened; her body melted for him anew. “Well, one good ride certainly deserves another…”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely, my little S.”

  He sent more heat through her sex by raising one hand and tugging the tie of her ponytail free. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and teased at the tops of her breasts, guiding Garrett’s fingers to explore her rock-hard nipples as she kept up the sensual pace he’d set. The warmth didn’t stop in her pussy. Her entire being glowed with the renewed fire of their love, made possible by the boldness and bravery of her amazing husband…her Master forever.

  She gazed at the carved, perfect angles of his face and kissed him again with the force of her adoration. “My hero,” she whispered.

  “My heart,” he whispered back.

  Tie the Knots

  Zeke Hayes and Rayna Chestain

  Chapter One

  It was a dark and stormy night.

  Zeke Hayes jutted a mental middle finger at the cliché. “Dark and stormy” he could deal with. This torrent was more like an all-access pass to Mother Nature’s water park, without the Churros and cheesy Beach Boys mixes. The deluge had hit the highway right at midnight, forcing him to pull his truck off at the exit for his apartment instead of Rayna’s house.

  At least the Guy Upstairs had waited to drown the earth until after Sage and Garrett’s wedding. Correction: makeup wedding. Sage had pulled out all the stops to compensate for her and Hawk’s first attempt at formal vows, which had been ruined by a madman who’d nearly killed Zeke and had almost dragged Rayna back to white slavery in Thailand. Though Garrett had marched Sage off to a civil ceremony in order to put the legal seal on things before their next deployment, Sage had insisted on something with pomp, circumstance, flowers, food, music, and even her guy on a horse to sweep her off on a ride into the sunset. She’d gotten it all, including Garrett on a beautiful gray stallion, actually looking damn cool in the Renaissance wedding clothes she’d made them all wear. Yeah, it had been a pretty awesome day, until the second fucking flood of Noah.

  As he and Rayna rushed from the car, the clouds growled and the rain fell harder. Z snarled back before tugging Rayna into the elevator. Shit. Her costume was made mostly of velvet, which meant she now wore every chilled drop that had fallen on her. Despite his best efforts to warm her, his firebird was frozen to the bone.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. The oath spewed from him a couple more times when they got to the door of his place. “Sorry, bird. I’m not used to the lock.”

  Every word of it was true. He could easily count the number of times he’d actually spent the night here in the last year, keeping the apartment mostly as—

  What?

  A place of his own to “get away alone with his thoughts”? Negative on that order, kids. His thoughts weren’t exactly the kind a guy invited over for a few beers and a gut spill.

  A restful retreat between missions? More sarcastic laughter echoed from his brain. If he wanted quiet, he headed for the cabin in the Cascades into which he’d sunk most of his design and decorating dollars. And if he wanted real peace, he slept at Rayna’s.

  A “Master Zeke bachelor party pad”? He didn’t bother to let that one even play with the grenade pin. When he wanted to play Dom, the walls of the Bastille Club, where he was a staff Dominant, held more than enough equipment for his needs—all exercised on the willing body and soul of the woman by his side.

  They truly had come so far together in a little over a year.

  The best damn year of his life.

  The fire-colored jewel that dangled from her black leather collar twinkled at him as affirmation of that. They’d made the most of every chance they had to feed the flames of their love, making sure the kindling of their friendship supported the bigger logs they’d placed on top. The result was a blaze that fed him, mind and soul, more completely than he dared admit.

  And terrified him more deeply than he wanted to acknowledge.

  As the lock finally gave for him, the woman scared him in other ways. Her teeth chattered like Morse code for freezing my nipples off. The tendrils of her fancy hairdo were soaked slashes against the beautiful angles of her cheeks. Her lips and exposed shoulders began to match the peacock blue of her gown.

  “All those p-people b-beheaded by K-King Henry and Qu-Queen Elizabeth?” she stammered. “Th-They must have b-been the fashion d-designers for the c-c-court.”

  He gave her a tender smile while cranking on the heater, though it was impossible to stop his gaze from wandering to the cleavage formed by her tight-laced corset. Sage’s dress had been more of a demure bridal thing, but the maid of honor had free rein to be more provocative in her purple and red gown, featuring a lacy neckline that pushed her breasts into very grab-worthy areas. Holy fuck, it was all he could do not to imagine just pulling them free from the fabric and then pinching them until they were as red as her dress before shoving her skirts around her waist and—

  “Sorry, bird,” he muttered instead. “I’m banging on the heat now.” He also walked over and turned on the flames beneath the artificial logs in the apartment’s excuse for a fireplace. “Isn’t as nice as what we h
ave at the cabin, but it’ll have to do for now.”

  An awkward silence arced between them. Neither of them had to speak the reason why.

  Isn’t as nice as what we have at the cabin…

  We. The word had never flowed naturally off his lips unless he was referring to something that had to do with the guys on his Special Forces team. He sure as hell never thought he’d be including a woman in the phrase beyond an invitation to one of Bastille’s private play rooms—let alone confusing one by looping her into a comment about his personal, solitary sanctuary.

  Personal. Solitary. The words were a damn good credo for him. They’d served him well since the age of ten when the streets became his home and then gained more importance when discovering his kink gene nine years later. Hadn’t taken him long to learn that like many other things in his life, he reveled in sensual Dominance the most when dealing it hard, fast, and rough. That was just peachy, but most of the time, he had to chill on his cravings for the sake of being a good Dom to his many submissives. And basing a lasting relationship on the affinity? That was like a wolf hooking up with a dolphin. Unwise and unnatural.

  Yeah, the wolf card was best played with the “lone” part securely attached. Everyone knew their parts. Nobody got hurt. Pain was only best when it was consensual and clear.

  So when the fuck had that all changed?

  He grunted as he stomped down the hall to grab some dry towels for Rayna. Who says anything’s changed?

  He’d opened his pie hole on the wrong words. That was all. Rayna knew where he stood, where they stood, and she was fine with it. Happy, even. Just because she’d been along for the ride the last few times he’d been up to the cabin—

  The last five times.

  —which didn’t mean shit beyond the fact that she was being his dutiful subbie, and—

  Like she remembers good “subbie” behavior when she kicks your ass in burping contests during the drive up the mountain or reads you jokes in different voices to help you relax.