by Tijan
“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard before,” I rasp. “It hurts, Beth. My dick . . . God. Do you see it? Do you see how much I want you?”
“Reed.”
She only says my name, but she’s begging me.
To move. To do something. Anything.
I grab my belt.
I don’t need to tell Beth how to position her hands. She knows, and she never hesitates. She never did. Even in the beginning, the first time I did this with her, she was always so willing. So trusting.
That drove me fucking wild. It still does.
Linking her fingers together, she extends her arms out in front of her, offering them to me.
“You were made for me. Do you know that?”
Her cheeks burn hot.
I loop the leather around her wrists, pull the strap through the buckle, and tug hard, tightening it.
She gasps at the pressure.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” she says, nodding, wetting her lips. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Fuck, I love you.” I kiss her, fast and hard, and grab the rope.
She giggles. “Wait. What about my pants?”
“We’ll get to that. First things first . . .” I secure a knot around the belt where the backs of Beth’s wrists are touching and test it, yanking on the end and giving her arms a light jerk. “Wouldn’t want you to get free,” I tease.
She blushes and bites her lip.
“Ready?”
“Hurry.”
“So bossy, Mrs. Tennyson. Don’t forget who’s tied up here.” I toss the rope over the thick, wooden beam and pull until Beth’s arms are fully extended above her head. Her back is arched, her lips parted, breaths leaving her like she’s being chased. If I were to pull any more, she’d go up on her toes, which is typically where I like her to be, but . . .
“Careful,” I remind her, when her eyes question why I’m not putting any more tension on the rope.
She nods once and watches me tie the end of the rope to one of the table legs.
The table is heavy. Solid metal. The only way she’s lifting it and putting slack on the rope is if she starts swinging from it. And that won’t be happening.
I’m a dirty fucker, but even I have limits.
“Now, about those pants.” I move behind her and run my hands down her sides, pressing my lips to the skin beneath her ear as my fingers tease the button of her jeans. “Mm. Do you feel that?” I ask, my cock rubbing her hip. “I think I’ll leave mine on and fuck you like this—just my dick out. What do you think? Are you gonna get it nice and wet for me if I do that?” I smile when all she can do is nod, her breathing so ragged she can’t form words anymore. I unfasten the button and slowly drag the zipper down. “But where should I fuck you . . . that is the question. I’ll leave this up to you. Where do you ache most, sweetheart? Here?” I push my hand into her panties and thrust two fingers inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, her back arching away and her arms shaking. “Oh . . . oh, God.”
“No need to be formal when I’m finger-fucking you, Beth. I’ll answer to Reed.” I chuckle darkly, biting her neck. “Now, option two. I’m going to need to slide these pants down so I can get to that sweet little hole. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes.”
“So, you’re saying you want me in your ass . . .”
She drops her head forward and whimpers. “You know I do.”
“I do. I just like hearing you say it.” I pull my fingers out and drag them over her clit until she shudders. “Say it, Beth. Or I’ll stay right here and do this for hours.”
I’m bluffing. I’m too hard not to fuck her until we both can’t walk, and I think she knows that, until . . .
“Yes!” she cries out, craning her neck to glare at me. “I want you in my ass, okay? I want you everywhere, Reed. God, just . . . hurry up and do it already. I’m dying. Get in my ass.”
I smile, keeping my laughter silent, and kiss her cheek. “You might want to watch the volume. I’m pretty sure our daughter can hear you.”
Beth blinks, eyes going as round as saucers, her lips pinching together into a tight thin line.
“Horniest woman on the planet. You weren’t lying,” I tease.
“Well . . . you asked for it.”
I lose the smile and bring my fingers to my mouth, letting her watch me suck them. “You’re perfect,” I say. Fuck, the way she tastes. “Absolutely fucking perfect. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’m glad you think so. Not that I’d let you back out of this now even if you tried. But I would feel bad leaving a pregnant woman tied up in a storage room.”
She giggles sweetly, and we share a kiss that’s too tender for this moment, but we let it happen anyway. And even though our lips are soft and there’s barely any tongue, we’re both still panting when I pull away, because it’s us, and we know what’s coming.
We share a look—desire. Beth wets her lips. I squeeze the base of my dick until I groan, grip the sides of her jeans and yank them down to her thighs. Her panties follow. Then moving to stand beside her, I cup her pussy with one hand and slide my other between her cheeks.
I’m not smiling anymore. Neither is she.
I dip a finger into her pussy until it’s wet enough to press against her ass and do just that, slipping past that impossibly tight ring of muscle to the place where she grips me. I move my digit in and out. Her mouth falls open and her eyes roll closed.
“Reed,” she gasps, wiggling against my hands, taking me deeper.
Two fingers in her pussy. One in her ass. I drop my head beside hers and bite her jaw.
“You squeeze me so fucking tight,” I say, licking my way to her mouth. “Fuck, Beth.”
“More,” she begs.
I don’t ask where, because I know where. I know Beth. I know us.
I wet a second finger, push two in her ass, and add a third in her pussy. I fuck her steadily, rubbing my cock against her and moaning into her mouth.
“Fuck,” I breathe, pumping my hips and sliding along her skin. I stare at myself, at the swollen head dripping. “God, Beth, I could come like this.”
She’s so soft and warm, and wet. So fucking wet.
“Oh . . . oh, God.” Beth sags against me and rolls up onto her toes. “Let me come. Let me come,” she begs, knowing I’d typically stop now so I could feel her go off around my cock, but fuck, she doesn’t need to beg. Not now. Not like this.
I can’t stop.
“Yeah, do it,” I tell her, holding the fingers in her ass still and just fucking her pussy now. “Come. Come all over me, and I’ll lick it up after.”
“Oh shit.” Her back arches. “Reed. Oh . . . oh, God, yes. Yes!”
By some miracle, I’m able to slow the thrusting of my hips as she clamps down on my fingers, and lazily rub myself on her stomach. Beth moans through her orgasm, turning her head so I can take her mouth. I suck on her tongue, her body trembling and those sweet pulses dying out until she’s sighing and sated.
“God,” she pants against my mouth. “That was—”
“Nothing yet.”
I slip my fingers out of her and put a good amount of slack on the rope, then I press against her back and squeeze her breast with the hand she just drenched. “Bend over so I can eat. I’m fucking starving,” I growl against her ear, biting the lobe.
“O-okay.” Beth drops her elbows on the table and leans forward, sticking her ass out.
Standing behind her, I remove her boots and peel her jeans off so she can widen her legs. I drop to my knees and hold her open with one hand, stroking my cock with the other as I stare.
“Fuck, look at you.” I lean in and swipe my tongue between her legs, licking her cunt. She gasps and sits back, pushing more of herself into my mouth, and I groan. “You taste fucking unreal, you know that? So sweet. Like honey.”
“Reed.”
I lick up to her ass and wiggle my tongue
inside her.
“Oh yes,” she moans.
I chuckle. “Dirty girl. Always want me right here, don’t you?” I slap her ass. She yelps, and I keep eating, moving my tongue all over her. Dipping in and out. Circling. “I’m not stopping until I get it all. Every last drop, Beth.”
“Shit.” Again, her thighs begin to shake, and she rolls up unto her toes and pants my name, over and over.
I pull back and stare. “Fuck. Are you coming again?”
Beth doesn’t answer. She can’t. She’s moaning and cursing because she is.
And there is no fucking way I’m not feeling that around my cock this time.
“Hold on. Fuck. Just hold on for me.” I stand and twist her around so we’re facing each other. Her eyes are wide. Her head flops on my shoulder.
“I can’t. I can’t stop,” she pants, elbows bent above her head. “Reed, hurry.”
I lift her up and set her on the edge of the table, grab the base of my dick, and sink in.
Wet. Tight. Perfect.
Fuck.
“Beth,” I gasp, just the first inch inside. “Good God, holy fuck.”
“Fuck me. Please!”
I guide her legs around my waist and reach around her to pull the rope free from the table. She stretches out on her back, arms still bound, which she keeps above her head. And when I watch her lips form that word again, hurry, with her eyes rolling closed, I squeeze her tits and thrust in.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah. Just like that,” I pant, bucking into her wildly.
“Reed.” Her body locks up, her pussy jerking my dick as her orgasm rips through her. “Yes! Oh, God. Don’t stop.”
“I can’t,” I tell her. I bend down and suck her nipple into my mouth, moaning against her slick skin. “Ah, fuck. Fuck! Touch me. Fucking touch me, Beth. Please.”
Beth’s fingers slide into my hair and tug until my eyes water.
“Ah, yeah, God. Fuck yeah.” Blood rushes in my ears. My orgasm races down my spine and tingles in my balls. “Close,” I grunt. Growling into her cleavage, I fuck her deep, keeping myself from getting too rough with her, and I think I have it—that discipline it takes to keep from getting too lost, too wild in this moment, but then I feel her nails dig into my scalp, and it’s over. I can’t.
And doctor’s blessing and all, so why not?
I lean away just enough to watch her, keeping her hands in my hair, and fuck her mad, crashing my hips against the back of her thighs. The table beneath us drags along the floor, screeching over our grunts and heavy breaths. Beth’s heels dig into my back. Sweat drips from my brow onto her tits, and I lick it up. My vision blurs. Right there. Right there. I suck and suck on her skin until she demands I bite her. And when my teeth sink into the plump flesh around her nipple, I come with a growl.
“God . . . damn,” I murmur, breathless and body spent. I kiss the red sting away and lick up to her neck, moaning, “Beth. Beth. Beth.”
Her name is my favorite sound.
She hums in content beneath me, stroking my hair. “Well done, Mr. Tennyson.”
I smirk, lifting my head to meet her eyes. “I wasn’t too . . . me, was I?”
It’s still a fear, even though I have all the assurance I need. I know it’ll always be something I worry about.
I couldn’t live if I hurt her.
“You were perfect.” She hits me with that smile, my smile, and sighs. “Everything. You were everything.”
I look down at her flushed cheeks, her messy hair falling out of her pony, and her lips—wet and ready. I bend and take them in a kiss that matches my dependency for this woman. Heavy. Pulse-pounding. And all-consuming. Even in the moments after, when my limbs can barely hold me up and I couldn’t feel more connected to Beth, it’s still there. That desperation. I’m hopeless against it. I’m hopeless against her.
In this bar, I’ve always been. From that very first kiss.
“I believe we have a party to get ready for,” I murmur, kissing her softly now.
“Mm. Just a few more minutes of this.”
“A few more minutes, and I’ll be hard again.”
“I know.”
I lean away, eyebrow cocked. “Good Lord, Beth. I just made you come how many times?”
She bites at her lip, fighting a smile. “I don’t know. Three?”
“Are you still horny?”
“It kind of doesn’t go away,” she reveals. “But, I mean, it’s not me. I read something about pregnant women being like this. It isn’t weird or anything.”
I chuckle and press a soft kiss to her mouth. “Well, that settles that. We’re having thirty kids now. One after the other. TLC will probably offer us a show.”
“Reed,” she giggles.
“I could stop working. Hell. You could stop working. We can just fuck all day and collect our checks.”
“And eat,” she says, beaming up at me and no doubt remembering the time I suggested we do those two things, and only those two things, for the rest of the day. “Actually, I am pretty hungry. Maybe we can break for a snack real quick, and then I can tie you up?” Her brows wiggle suggestively.
Tie me up?
Yeah fucking right.
“You would hate every second of that, and you know it,” I say, knowing how my wife gets off better than she does.
“I’m not sure.” She pinches her lips together, thinking. “I might like it.”
“Beth.” I give her a look.
“What? Reed Tennyson, from McGill’s.” She gives me a look back, which she loses almost immediately when a laugh tears from my throat.
“God, I can’t wait to do this for the rest of my life with you,” I say, kissing her smiling lips.
“You and me,” she murmurs, her bound arms tightening around my neck.
I breathe deep, loving the way that sounds but even more, loving that soon, it’ll be changing to us—you, me, and her. Layla.
I close my eyes, happy, relaxed, my life so fucking good because of this woman.
The same one gently tugging on my hair and shyly requesting, “Um, Reed? About that snack . . .”
LUKE
The line I’m standing in moves ahead a couple feet when another group is instructed to “Stay on the path. Don’t divert, or you’ll regret it!” by some kid dressed as the Grim Reaper.
He holds out his scythe and tries to look intimidating as thunder claps from stereo speakers mounted to nearby lampposts, and four teenage girls squeal and run past him, disappearing into the dark woods.
“I’m so scared! I might pee myself!” a young girl behind me shrieks.
“If anyone touches me, I’ll die!” another cries before breaking into excited laughter.
Two kids holding lightsabers carry on a fight just off to the side while they wait their turns. They can’t be any older than Nolan. And for yet another time tonight, I shake my head and wonder what the fuck I’m doing right now, because aside from their parents and whoever oversees the lighting and special effects at Weber’s Haunted Woods, I am the oldest motherfucker here.
Halloween is a holiday for kids and women who want an excuse to dress up. I don’t have any reason to be coming to shit like this anymore. I haven’t been to one of these things since I was in middle school. And if it weren’t for the voice that turns my head every fucking time I hear it, I wouldn’t be standing here now.
“I’m not cutting in line. Relax, before your hair frizzes out any more.”
Laughter shakes my chest as I turn sideways and watch Tessa.
She moves down the long line of people like she owns this fucking farm, walking with attitude the way she always does—hips swaying in those tight jeans, chin lifted, eyes bright and daring, looking sexy as hell with that smirk on her face she wears when she’s either thinking about telling someone off or just got finished doing it.
Fucking love that look. Especially when it’s being directed at me.
And it’s directed at me a lot.
I shouldn’t get off on riling
Tessa up and getting a helluva lot of lip from her, but I do. And she gets off on giving it. That shit just works for us.
As Tessa moves closer, curiosity has me scanning the crowd, and I spot the woman who will absolutely think twice before she gets up in my wife’s business again.
Scowl on her face and cheeks flushed in embarrassment, she quickly smooths her hands through her hair.
“The Porta-Potties are disgusting,” Tessa shares, stopping beside me, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she wipes her hands off on her jeans. “Seriously. People are animals. Fucking aim already. It’s gross. I basically had to bathe in hand sanitizer.”
“You could’ve just held it,” I offer, knowing anything I say right now aside from agreeing with her is a gamble.
That’s a risk I gladly take though. Give me that fucking look, babe.
And she does.
Her eyes harden and narrow. Her mouth pulls tight.
I smile, my cock hardening in my jeans.
I can’t help that shit. It’s her.
“Shut up.” Tessa laughs, knocking her fist against my chest. “You got it made, you know that? I swear to God, Luke, my life would be so much easier if I had a penis. I wouldn’t even need to get out of line. I could just whip it out right here. Problem solved.”
I glance around us, making sure no kids are standing close enough to hear the conversation we’re having, because knowing Tessa, she didn’t bother to look. Then getting the go-ahead I need, I pull my arms across my chest and turn to face her again. “Can we not talk about a scenario involving you having a dick? ’Cause that’s really fuckin’ weird for me.”
She tilts her head back, her mouth fighting a smile. “Why? ’Cause you’d still be interested and wouldn’t know what to do about that?”
“Wouldn’t be interested once I got your pants off, babe.”
“Yeah you would. My dick would be huge.”
The fuck?
Shoulders pulling back, I stand taller before blinking away and moving forward with the line, and I don’t know what look I’m giving off now, but whatever it is has Tessa clutching at her stomach and nearly doubling over in half.
“Oh my God. You look freaked,” she cackles.
“There’s something wrong with you.”