Pillow Chase

by Jeanie London

  With a nod, he reached out to take a sheet from her and said, “Allow me.”

  Heading toward the bed, he shook out the sheet as he went, leaving Miranda to watch him, to inhale a deep, relieved breath as she segued through the tense moment, and focused her thoughts back where they belonged right now.

  On the man who was making the bed with the sharp easy moves he’d honed during years in the Navy.

  “Where’d you learn to make a bed like that?” she asked, a familiar question that had turned into a joke through the years.

  Tossing a grin over his shoulder, he gave her the answer she’d come to expect. “You should appreciate a man who can make a better bed than you do.”

  “Oh, I do, Lieutenant Commander. I do.”

  Her admission was rich with implication because in that moment Miranda had never felt luckier.

  Like the specialty sheet sets that housekeeping had supplied daily since their arrival at Falling Inn Bed, the Polar Bear Pack had pockets all around the fitted sheet for easy access. The design your own sheet set party meant their job was to fill the pockets.

  Glancing around at the variety of sex toys at their disposal, Miranda chose his and hers items from the Incredible Edible table then moved to the table with the lubricants and creams to inspect the offerings there.

  Happy Penis Lotion definitely. Troy had earned a happy penis with the thoughtful way he’d let her take the lead without questions. He looked so scrumptious as he leaned over the bed, his pants molding his tight butt, that she felt her arousal reawaken with one moist clench between her thighs.

  She’d let him choose the vibrator or dildo himself.

  He’d earned that right, too.

  Turning back around, he found her smiling at him as he strode toward her, all expectant male. He plucked the goodies from her arms and tossed them onto the bed.

  “You, on the bed, while I grab a few things.” His words were a command, even though he hadn’t won their bet yet.

  Miranda wondered what he would choose and draped the flat sheet over the bedpost. Slipping off her sandals, she climbed onto the bed. An interesting match with the huge gold sleigh bed, the faux fur sheets felt as sleek as cool water against her bare skin. Slithering onto her belly, she leaned over the side and fitted her sexy goodies into the sheets pockets.

  “Oh, yeah, I like this,” Troy said.

  She turned to find him watching her while he dangled a chain from his finger. She recognized the padded clamps on the ends and knew where he wanted to attach those clamps.

  “Am I in trouble?” she asked.

  “Definite trouble.”

  She felt a thrill of arousal at his tone, a tone that reminded her of his earlier words.

  “I won’t make love to you until you beg me.”

  She loved this challenge growing between them, loved that she could escape into this moment and indulge herself. This was the beauty of being married, of feeling so comfortable together that they could share adventures between the sheets.

  Dangling the chain from his finger, he strode toward the bed, eyeing her with cool purpose. Her breasts began to tighten at the promise in his expression, a result of the hunger that had been allowed to go unsatisfied. Her head might be racing lately but her body responded to this man on an elemental level, and the design your own sheet set party spread all around them…

  She rose to her knees on the edge of the bed, feeling decadent as he towered above her. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers along her cheek.

  “Do you mind?” His question filtered between them in the bubbling quiet, erotic, filled with promise.

  She shook her head. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders with the motion and the intensity of the moment built until she was aware of the strands against her bare skin.

  Troy stepped closer and she expected to feel his hands on her. Indeed, her breasts grew heavy and tight anticipating his touch. But he lowered his face and zeroed in on a nipple, catching the peak between his lips and drawing her inside with a slow, wet pull.

  The shock of his touch reverberated through her like an electrical current, and Miranda reached out to steady herself, gazing down at the top of his blond head. The muscles in his neck flexed and his jaw tensed as he flicked that wicked tongue over the achy peak, and he dragged the cold chain along her stomach, a deliberate, tantalizing move that made her steel herself against the anticipation of what would come next.

  With a final swirl of his tongue, he reared back to blow on her nipple, a gust of warm air that somehow felt tender, thoughtful. Then he fitted the clamp around her swollen nipple, and Miranda held her breath as he eased it shut by slow degrees.

  A shock wave of sensation made her gasp aloud, the feeling so intense, so potent, she gazed up to find him watching her, gauging her reaction, clearly aroused by the sight.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  “No.” Already the intensity was leveling off to a steady buzz of sensation that made her blood hum. “It’s fine.”

  It was more than fine. They’d never played with this toy before, and the steady pressure echoed through her body, made her feel hypersensitive and excited.

  Miranda arched her back and thrust her breasts out. “Go ahead and put that one on.”

  He gave a husky laugh. “Fine, hmm?”

  “Really fine.” So fine that the erotic pinch was making desire pool low in her belly.

  She could almost feel his warm mouth on her skin but this time he thumbed her nipple to life, squeezing it between his fingers, his gaze fixed on her as she gasped out in pleasure.

  He fitted the second clamp into place. Another shock wave. Only the weight of the dangling chain intensified the sensation. Her breasts had always been erogenous zones, and Troy skilled in bringing her pleasure with his touches. But this, this was enough to make her squirm.

  And the man hadn’t taken off a stitch of clothing yet.

  Her chances of winning this bet were looking slimmer and slimmer by the moment, and that thought had her reaching out for his belt. “I want to feel skin, Lieutenant Commander.”

  His only response was a light tug on the chain.

  The clamps stretched her nipples enough to skyrocket the fever in her blood, one sharp pull that made her cry out, a broken half-gasp, half-moan. The intense sensation shimmered through her entire body, along every nerve ending until her sex clenched hotly and her legs felt weak.

  She dragged in another breath, managing her reaction, the need to be touched that was making her ache.

  “I like your game, Mrs. Knight,” he said. “I like teasing and torturing you.”

  Before she realized what he was about, he speared his fingers into her hair, forced her head back and lowered his mouth to hers for a hungry kiss.

  Their lips collided in a clash of heat, and Miranda recognized this phenomenon, this urgent, pressing passion that grew dark. Gone was the easy comfort of a couple who lived together and loved a lot. That comfortable couple was replaced with two people who knew each other well enough to push the boundaries, to allow their hungers to take control, to reveal their deepest desires without the fear of reproach.

  Troy knew she could handle whatever he tossed at her, just like she knew he’d follow wherever she led. Even if she wanted to build his tension and leave him unsatisfied with her game of never-ending torture. They had trust and respect, and that made this dark, hungry mood all the more titillating.

  He drove his tongue deep inside her mouth, his kiss demanding an honest response. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d been holding back, shielding herself, censuring her reactions, the anticipation of a vanishing orgasm preying on the back of her mind.

  Never again.

  Miranda threaded her fingers around his head, drew him deeper into their kiss, an unspoken promise. Their tongues tangled together, and the need swelled between them, impossibly hot, the most wicked of indulgences.

  His mouth never let up the demand as he trailed a hand down her thr
oat, a forceful touch that left fire in its wake. When he tugged on the chain again, she cried out. He captured the sound with his mouth, a possessive but tender kiss that pushed her to the edge and challenged her, cherished her.

  A kiss that left no room for doubt.

  A kiss that convinced her never to hold back from this special passion they shared, never to hide or retreat or shield herself from a feeling so unique, so extraordinary.

  Suddenly she felt Troy’s muscles gather and he broke their kiss while locking his fingers into her thong. One tug, and he dragged the silky panties almost to her knees.

  “I’ll get naked and join you.”

  She’d wanted to undress him herself, but he’d already backed away from the bed, acting as if he’d won this bet. His tone smacked of his officer’s right to command, and after she’d teased him with her own striptease, Miranda didn’t mind. Not when he had such a wolfish look about him.

  She knew this mood, knew his tension mounted in pace with her own. And that was exactly what she wanted right now. Anticipation. Excitement. A good kind of trouble.

  She got it in spades when she rolled to her side to remove her panties. The chain swung wildly between her breasts so the clamps tugged on her nipples. The sensation shot through her fast and hard, made her insides melt into a puddle of desire.

  And before she’d managed that feeling, Troy’s hand connected with her bottom, one sharp slap that made her yelp. He laughed as she swung around to face him, her skin prickling hotly, and her sex growing oh-so wet.

  With her heartbeat throbbing in her ears, she stared up at him, found him watching her as if she’d been spread out before him for his pleasure, a tasty morsel to be savored.

  He held out a cellophane package.

  “Put these on.” Another command.

  With her bottom tingling hot and that look on his face promising so much pleasure, Miranda took the package.

  Incredible Edible Panties.

  “I’m going to lick them off you,” he said.

  “If I let you, Lieutenant Commander. You haven’t won this bet yet.”

  He shot her a look of pure sex. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

  “We’ll see.” Pure bravado.

  “Yes, we will,” he promised. “You’ll comply or I’ll hold you down and spank you some more. I’m bigger than you.”

  She rolled to her knees, the chain hanging from her breasts and weighing on her nipples until she could feel the ache straight to her toes. But two could play this game, and she poised her backside high in the air, shooting her husband a suggestive pose that made a flush creep into his cheeks and his features sharpen with barely restrained desire.

  “Are you trying to scare me?” she asked.

  Troy laughed, another sound she recognized as the bravado it was because he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch her.

  Trailing his hand over the curve of her cheek, he seemed to be absorbing the heat that still radiated from that tender place. They’d played this spanking game before, and the exquisite heat of a few well-placed slaps had always given her some seriously memorable orgasms that still had the ability to make her insides melt by just thinking about them.

  Troy had been on the reciprocating end before, too. His tight butt made an excellent target, and the reverent way he touched her assured her he was remembering.

  “You should be scared.” His voice was throaty low. “I’m so horny right now, I don’t know if I can control myself.”

  “Who wants you to control yourself, Lieutenant Commander?”

  Certainly not her. She was so hot right now she didn’t think this heat would vanish anytime soon. Not when she couldn’t think about anything except how hungry her handsome husband looked.

  So arching her bottom higher, she rocked her hips to caress the palm he still held against her skin.

  Troy smoothed his palm along the curve of her cheek then down her thigh. He brought his hand back up again and grazed her exposed sex, trailing his fingers through the moist folds.

  Miranda shivered.

  “Do you know what happens when I’m away,” he said in an achingly soft voice.

  “What?”

  “I can get so damn busy I don’t have much of a chance to think about everything I’m missing at home. But then you’ll launch a new page to our Web site, and I log on to see your picture and read your posts. And I want you, Miranda.”

  His fingers trailed inside her, just deep enough to tease and torture. His gaze raked over her with aching softness, a look that underscored the conviction in his words.

  “Sometimes I want you so bad I’m not sure I’ll make it until I get home again. And that want just keeps building until I think I’m going to explode. It’s agony.”

  A slow smile touched his lips. “But I can close my eyes and see you. I can remember what you feel like when I hold you and how I feel when I’m inside you. I can hear all those little sounds you make, the purring sighs and the moans. And I know if I can just hang on a while longer, that I’ll get home and you’ll make me feel that way again. And when I get home, you do.”

  The longing in his voice crumbled away the edges of her heart, made her eyes sting with unshed tears. She knew the feeling because she’d felt it herself, only unlike her, Troy didn’t shield himself from the ache or try to distract himself. He embraced the way he wanted her, welcomed it.

  And she realized just then why their homecomings were always so overwhelming. Troy’s tension had mounted to the breaking point, while she’d withdrawn so far inside herself to hide from her longing that she needed time to warm up.

  Another epiphany.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I know.” He looked at her, his expression heart-achingly gentle. “That’s what gets me through—knowing the reality of being with you will beat the fantasy hands down.”

  “Always?”

  His expression softened and the love in his eyes made her heart melt. “Man, it just keeps getting better.”

  Propping a knee onto the bed, he leaned toward her, swept aside the hair that cascaded all around her, so he could meet her gaze. “I say thanks every day for you, Miranda.”

  “I like the sound of that.” More false bravado she knew he’d never buy when her voice sounded trembly and overwhelmed.

  “I hoped you would.” Then he popped her other cheek, a heated slap that broke the moment. “Now put those on. I’m ready for breakfast.”

  With a laugh, Miranda rolled away and got to business, treated him to a very deliberate striptease as she kicked off her thong and maneuvered into the pair of nearly see-through blue candy panties.

  Blueberry Bonanza.

  “You’d better get busy, Lieutenant Commander. I’d hate to melt all over these pretty white sheets.”

  Troy shoved his slacks over his hips and let them drop to the floor. The fact that he didn’t pick them up and fold them away with his usual neatness told her everything she needed to know about his lust level.

  “Pleased to know you’re hot enough to melt.”

  “Oh, I am that,” she said, and she meant it.

  As she stretched out on the furry sheets, watching Troy pull off his socks and hop onto the bed to join her, she not only felt hot and decadent, she felt excited. To feel his hands and mouth on her intimate places. And when he clamped his hands around her calves and shimmied her toward him, she let her legs part wide in welcome.

  But it wasn’t until Troy had licked away every last bite of the edible undies and curled her into the shelter of his hard body to torture her with his sex toy of choice—a wicked little vibrator called the Extreme-ina-tor—that Miranda began to appreciate the irony of the situation.

  Her husband was on a mission to make her beg, and with an almost supernatural precision, he manipulated that fierce little vibrator into every sensitive place between her thighs.

  She kept expecting her thoughts to start racing and chase away another perfectly good orgasm, but the only thing tha
t vanished was her chances of winning this bet.

  And that made them both winners in Miranda’s book.

  She didn’t beg exactly, but she did need to climax, and she wanted Troy inside her while she did.

  He only wielded that wicked vibration like a weapon, pitching her into a gasping orgasm that proved to be one of those all-over numbers that almost made her swoon…

  She could barely keep her eyes open as her triumphant—obnoxious?—husband watched her go to pieces in his arms, the sounds of her moans echoing in the fountain-soaked quiet.

  And when she finally managed to catch her breath, she asked, “I cried uncle and you won. Why can’t we make love, so I can satisfy you, too?”

  He arched a dark brow in a too-smug expression, released her aching nipples from the clamps and told her, “Because I won. Now I get to choose the time and the place.”

  Miranda heard the threat in there and shivered.

  13

  TROY HALF SAT on the desk beside Miranda, who sat in front of the computer, still looking soft around the edges after losing their bet. But those dreamy edges were fast giving way to tension as she stared down at the blank monitor.

  She lifted her deep gaze to him. “Here to gloat?”

  “Nothing to gloat about. We’ve got a win-win situation.”

  Definitely win-win. After bringing her to climax with the vibrator, Troy had gone to work on her with the tingly body butter, massaging her delicious curves as if he could speed up the demise of walls that were finally crumbling between them.

  After he’d stimulated every inch of her skin had come the Ticklers—a variety of feathers he’d used to tease her sensitive skin until she’d cried uncle again.

  “Why didn’t we make love so you could claim your prize?”

  “I wasn’t done teasing and torturing you. Just because I won the bet doesn’t mean your game has to be over. It only means I’m in control now.” Wrapping his finger in a springy black curl, he tugged, liking the cool silk feel against his skin. “And let’s face it, Miranda. I totaled you. I don’t make love to comatose women.”