by Smith, A. T
“Abigail. Stop!” he says sternly and I feel my body tense on the spot. It has been far too long since he has used this voice on me, and now here I am, privileged enough to hear it twice in a day. For the past few months, we have both been so stressed with wedding plans and the reintroduction of his family and son that our DOM/sub relationship has gone out the window. It makes me all kinds of tingly to hear that deep, clipped British tone.
Abigail, control yourself. Now really isn’t the time to be getting yourself in a hot wet mess, I tell myself, squirming in my seat. I can see Antonio looking at me, acknowledging my sudden influx of need.
“You do not get to give up, not now, not ever. Our daughter does not need you like this. Joe needs you to be strong and help him with what life will throw at him. Bring your chin up and push yourself. If I know you like I know I do, you will get through this regardless of the outcome. You will be a fantastic mother and wife.” I smile sadly back at him. “Now, focus on getting yourself better. You will be getting discharged within the week and then when your stitches are out and the wound is better you will be going to physiotherapy, whether you like or not, because I am not allowing you to fall down when you have brought me up so high.” He kisses my lips gently and strokes Melissa’s hair.
“We’re going to get going Leigh. Do you want us to leave Mel and Joe here or take them with us?” I hear Ant ask Leighton as I continue to enjoy my cuddle with my girl. I know he is deliberately doing this, knowing I need time alone with my husband.
God, husband. It sounds so strange but so bloody right.
“Babe, you want them to take the kids home or do you want me to see if I can get a travel cot brought in for Mel?” I contemplate keeping them with me forever, but I know it is in their best interest to be in their own beds, safe and comfortable with their big bad uncle caring for them. I lean in and kiss Mel once more.
“Take them home guys, they need their own beds. But bring them back tomorrow for me?” I ask them kindly as Georgia walks forward and bends to take Mel from my arms.
“Night baby girl, sleep well for Aunty George and Uncle Ant.” I kiss her once more, her hands clasping onto the side of my hair. “Let go Mel sweetie, you’re hurting mummy.” I open her tiny grasp and release my hair. I stroke her head once before Georgia takes her from me. She leans and kisses my cheek herself.
“I’ll see you tomorrow babe, get yourself some sleep.” Her voice is so soft and calming.
“I will, thanks for coming down so late.” I look to the clock on the wall and it reads 01:43. It is late and it is too nice of them to wake up from their sleep, if that was what they were doing, and bring my girl and boy here to make me feel better.
“Never a problem sweetie,” Antonio replies on behalf of the pair, taking Mel from Georgia and snuggling her to his side. He really is an amazing man, uncle and friend. More like a brother to me now, on level with Thomas when sharing my heart.
“Come on buddy, let’s leave them to sleep. We’ll come back tomorrow,” Georgia says, coming over to take Joseph.
“Come here Joe,” I instruct him kindly as Georgia approaches. He comes to my side, from his position standing with Leighton at the door seeing Ant out.
“You have given me the best gift there ever could be. You gave me your trust and love. I will treasure it always, Joseph. You will always be my son. I love you.”
“I love you too.” He replies softly, leaning up and wrapping his arms around my neck, squeezing me hard.
“Now, be a good boy and help look after Mel for me.” I kiss his cheek and stroke his soft hair.
“I will be the best big brother ever. She will be safe with me, Mum,” he informs me and then runs off and leaps at his dad, clinging to Leighton’s thick neck as he enjoys a cuddle from him. “Look after mum, dad, or you’ll have me to deal with, okay?” Joe warns his father and I laugh on my bed, wiping happy tears from my face at the sight.
“Okay, Solider. She is in good hands. Love you, kid.” He kisses his son on his head and then plops him on the floor where he holds onto his auntie’s hand and waves as he leaves the room.
“Night,” I say and wave to them as they leave the room.
“How do you feel now you’ve seen them, baby?” Leighton asks me as he sits further up on the bed, turning onto his side a little to cuddle me into his enormous frame.
“Good, really good. I know it’s only been a day since I’ve seen them but it seems so much longer.” Nobody knew of the hell I had gone through, literally, to get back here with my family. I’d probably never tell them to be quite honest, it isn’t anything they need to know, all they need to know is that I am here and I have survived. I don’t want their pity, or for them to see me as a crazy person because I had escaped the fiery inferno of hell with the guidance of a little angel, who, to this minute I still can’t fathom who she was.
“You’re a fantastic mum, you know that Abbi. And you will get through this, I know you will angel.” He rolls over a little more, his body chest to chest with mine, his intoxicating heat smothering me from every angle. It is making it fucking hard to control every urge that has me raring to attack him.
I am still frustrated from our wedding and the arousing and erotic things he had told me as we danced our first dance as a married couple. I had been more than ready for the night of sex we had planned before I was shot. Now all of the arousal that surges my every vein is magnified and intensified as his green eyes bore into me.
“Stop looking at me like that, Abigail. I’m trying to be serious with you right now,” Leighton says simply, trying to avoid my gaze.
I lean forward so my breasts, covered in the hospital gown, brush against his shirted body. My lips gently touch his ear as I whisper quietly, “Enough of the serious, oh husband of mine. My pussy is far too wet and hot for anything other than your cock.” I hear the hiss as he draws a heavy breath through his perfect teeth, his dick hardening beneath his trousers. It is already straining and begging for as much attention as it can get.
I bring my working hand between us, the other currently being lied on, and stroke his bulge desperately. Every firm fondle of his anatomy makes his cock stir further, hardening beyond anything I have ever felt before.
In my head I calculate that it has been five days since we have been intimate. We have withheld sex so our wedding night was as explosive and nuclear as possible. I wanted him to ruin me, use my body so expertly that I couldn’t walk, talk or concentrate on anything for the next week.
“Abigail, you need to stop. We cannot be fucking in a hospital again. You’ve already checked that off of your list once young lady.” I keep my lips by his ear, my breath smothering his lobes and moving to his strong neck.
“Who says I don’t want to double check that bad bastard off my list and have you buried deep inside of me Leighton?” I say his name with as much erotic emphasis as I can. He has taught me to be the naughty, submissive I long to be right now.
He moans loudly, the door to my room sealed shut, keeping the nosy doctors and nurses out. I silently beg him to stand and flick the lock across the door so I can have his clothes off and his cock visible for my own eye fucking.
“What do you say Leighton? Do you want me spread open for you, my tight wet pussy clamping down on your big hard dick as you pound into me, making me scream and beg you, calling you the one thing I know makes you explode? Would you like that, Sir?” I accentuate the Sir, knowing that is the one name that makes his cock harder than granite. If there is anything in this world that he is exceptional at it is dominating me, and god do I just crave it like air, possibly more.
“Abbi,” he warns me and I can tell his eyes are rolled back within their sockets. I can’t see his face, but I can feel the muscles everywhere in his body tensing hard as he struggles to remain where he is.
“Sir,” I reply, answering his use of my name. “I need your hard cock in my pussy. I wish you could paint my arse red with your big strong hand.” I tease him, but in all serio
usness that’s exactly what I need. I want to feel the pain his touch can bring, the pain that drives me over the edge.
“Fuck,” he moans out as he grinds his length into my palm, his trousers struggling to contain the firmness it houses inside.
“Give it to me Leighton, take the control baby, make me yours in every way you want to. I give myself to you, Sir.” His own lips move to my neck and begin to lick and suck at the sensitive skin there, as mine continue to breathe erotically into his ear.
I yelp in pleasure as his teeth sink into my skin, barely piercing the top layer, but sending sparks of arousal throughout my entire being.
“MINE!” he says deeply as his hands move between us and shimmy my gown up and over my stomach and breasts. “Everything is mine,” he continues to say and I can’t help rolling my own eyes in utter arousal.
“Yours Sir” I state before letting him possess me completely, truly and utterly.
Chapter Thirteen Leighton
I try to stop myself from letting her get to me. She needs to sleep and heal but as she begs and hangs onto the one side of me that I can’t control even if I wanted to, I can't stop my hands as they roam down her delicious body to the edging of her plain and boring hospital gown.
I definitely need to bring some of those beautiful silk nighties back with me tomorrow if I am to stay here with her for the remainder of her stay; I need to see her in something that accentuates these glorious curves of hers, to be able to see her pebbled nipples through the material as I stroke them firmly.
“Leighton, baby, Sir, please own me,” she begs me again, and it drives me to an edge I wasn’t even used to. She is driving me crazy with desire and lust. Something needs to happen soon or my trousers are bound to split at the seams as my cock grows harder and harder with need. I can already feel the material wetting as my dick seeps pre-cum.
“You’re being a bad girl, Angel,” I tell her as I nuzzle into the softness of her slender neck. My lips are like a magnet to the flesh there, caressing and kissing her skin.
“More the reason to punish me, Sir.” She taunts me. She is seeking a spanking and at this point in time, regardless of the fresh bullet wound in her shoulder, I will bend her over and scarlet her arse.
“Don’t push me baby,” I warn her. There are other ways to punish her if she is going to continue to be a brat, and giving her the pain her body craves isn’t one of them. If she wants me to punish her there are much more effective ways of seeking obedience from her. “You continue being a brat and see how long it is ‘til I let you cum,” I tell her.
“Sorry sir, I’ll be good. It’s just... my pussy is throbbing for you and has been for nearly a week,” she tells me and it makes me slightly guilty that we never got to consummate our marriage.
“I’m sorry pet, I promise I’ll make you feel good, that I will appreciate the things you are giving to me freely. I will make you feel divine and precious.” I remind her of how important she is to me, how much I need her in my life, to have her happy and complete.
I reluctantly move from her side, walking the room to the door that separates our little haven from the outside world of busy doctors and nurses. I lock the door and make sure the one blind is also sealed closed to accommodate the privacy I will need to pleasure my sexy wife.
“Pet, do I need to remind you of the rules or are you quite clear on them?” I ask her, referring to the agreed guidelines we have set when I am in control of her body, mind and pleasure.
“No Sir, I remember. I could never forget them.” She lies on the bed, her back to the mattress. The hospital gown is shuffled and laying haphazardly around her slim waist, her working arm sprawled above her head and the other down by her side, her legs lay partially open giving me a perfect view of her bare shaven pussy.
“As I expected. Good girl. Tell me what you need from me Pet, what you need me to do,” I instruct her, giving her the control for a mere moment. I need her guidance here, as I don’t want to hurt her arm and shoulder further. I need to know how far I can take it.
“Everything Sir. I need anything you can give me. I just need to feel you in me, feel you hot and needy for me, to know I can still drive you insane with desire.” So, that is clearly part of the problem. She feels I won’t want her anymore, and the other part of the problem is she is needy and hot with arousal and frustration.
“Angel, my beautiful angel. I will never not want you. Whether you had one leg, or two heads or six tits, I’d still want you with the same fucking need that I have now. So, open your legs for me a little, and put your hand to your pussy, I want to see how you please yourself,” I command her and her thighs separate like Moses parts the red sea.
My own hand reaches to my groin hurriedly as her fingers separate her lips and begin to tease her swollen clit. “Hmm, that’s a fucking beautiful view. Put your fingers inside yourself, feel how wet you are for me.” I hiss as I watch two fingers delve inside her tight channel. Her pussy moulds around them, squeezing furiously at her slender digits, her juicy wetness dripping around them. I don’t need her clarification on how slippery she is, I can see it for myself.
I lick my lips, wanting to taste her for myself. My hand grips at my dick, hard. I need to release it from the tight restrictions my trousers provide, otherwise I am sure my cock will just bust through them regardless.
“How does it feel baby? Are you wet and hot for me?” I ask her in that deep British voice I know she loves. I can’t stop it from happening; my brain automatically changes my accent as my levels of arousal rise. Normally, I sport a typical Essex accent, a little common, but as I become excited or even angry, it changes to a clipped, deep barrelling tone that either scares someone shitless or drives them to extended levels of heat.
“So good, it feels so good. I’m so wet Leighton. So wet for you,” she tells me and I take a few steps closer to her, watching as she clenches down on her fingers and her eyes pop from their sockets a little.
“Good pet, now circle them, stretch yourself a little so I can fit inside your tight cunt.” I make myself groan with the last of my words. Her back arches from the bed a little as she moves her hand around.
“Oh god. Argghhh.” She moans aloud, her hand now pumping in and out of her pussy with vigour.
“You want me? You need me?” I ask her as I take another three steps, my body now at the end of the bed. I look down to her, her cunt in my direct view, her hand pleasuring herself.
“Yessss!” she hisses out, her legs tense and her back rises off the sheets. Her nipples are perfectly stiff, begging for my fingers to grip them and squeeze firmly.
“I want to taste you Angel. Do you want my mouth on you, lapping and sucking at your juicy pussy?” I walk to the side of the bed, grabbing her legs and twisting her entire body round. I pull her to the edge, her arse hanging over, and her back flat on the sheets widthways. I force open her thighs wide, her cunt wet, slick, and delicious.
“Hmm, so pretty and perfect,” I say as I move one of my hands to her, separating her folds once again and teasing her soft wet skin.
“Leighton.” She moans loudly, forcing her groin further into my hand. “Oh god baby.” She continues as she grinds on my fingertips. I graze her clit occasionally, tormenting her further.
I get to my knees, the bones digging painfully into the hard tiled floor.
“You want it, baby? You want me to taste you?” I ask her again as I bend my head towards her, mere centimetres away from her intoxicating scent of arousal.
“Please Sir,” she squeals out as I lower my face further and lick the length of her groove.
God! She tastes like heaven, pure and utter bliss. I use both my hands to separate her completely as my tongue assaults her every nerve ending. I feast on her like a starving man.
“Leighton,” she moans aloud, one of her hands reaching into my hair and gripping tightly to it. “Harder.” She whimpers again, demanding more from me.
I lift my head and look to her; she bites her lip
in apology knowing already that she is turning into a brat again. “Sorry sir.” That is better. Nobody, and I mean nobody, other than Ant, tops me. I am the head of my game, the master in all things. Nobody controls my life or controls the speed in which I let them climax.
“Good girl. Now lie back, close your mouth and let me continue without interruption. Unless it’s screams of pleasure leaving those pretty little lips I do not want to hear a sound, especially you telling me what to do, Abigail.” She nods her acceptance and leans back on the bed. Her hand once again laces within my hair as I restart my onslaught on her fuckable cunt.
I can feel her juices running steadily from within her, coating my lips and even my chin as they continue to drip. I use one of my hands to separate her and spear her harshly with two of the fingers. She screams loud and high pitched as they enter her, spreading her inner walls and stretching her until she is bucking from the bed.
“You want me inside of you pet?” I question her. She lifts her head a little, looking down between her legs to where my face currently resides. She nods her head frantically, the gift of speech currently leaving her. It makes me proud of myself that I can send her so crazy that even the muscles in her mouth and throat fail her.
“I’m sure I can accommodate your need sweetheart.” As I stand myself up and remove my trousers, I am sent back to the last time this happened. Before she had entered rehab we had fucked in this very hospital, not in this room, but a similar one. She had just found out about my tendency to control and now here she was begging for me to do just that.
I can see her throat bobbing in anticipation as I slowly unbutton my clean shirt; the bloodstained one now disposed of in the bin. Each time a small disc slips through the hole it belongs to, her eyes widen that little bit more. “You see the control I exert over you baby, just by taking my shirt off, how needy and greedy you become? You’re desperate for me aren’t you, pet? Desperate for me to push myself inside of you and make you scream, for me to control every breath you take, every pump of your heart as it circulates your body with blood. I own you, don’t I baby?” I interrogate her. I know every word I have said is correct, as it is exactly the way I feel about her.