A Mess of Reason

by A. Wilding Wells

  “What? I don’t mean with him!” She’s giggling, hitting me, then rubbing her forehead against mine, signaling what a complete dope I am for not understanding her. “He’s yesterday’s news. Page turned, book closed, ball-and-chain severed. I have moved the fuck on!”

  For the love of God ! It’s all that and a bag of chips. Touch-friggin’-down! Put the oxygen masks back.

  “I want a do-over with you, Scout. My insides have been screaming at me for years to claim you, and I thought our cabin weekend was a start, but you were a perfect gentleman…well, sort of, and you didn’t let us do all the things I wanted to do. I was so pissed when you left without saying good-bye, but I know you had to. I was the idiot. I wanted to have it both ways and you wouldn’t let me, thank God.”

  “A do-over with me? So the separate penthouses I got for us so that you could have some alone time to sulk, eat your way through boxes of chocolates, and watch An Officer and a Gentleman and Beaches 24/7 was a bad move, then?”

  I bury my face in her chest as I chuckle, breathing every bit of her in…every single bit of her beautiful awakened self. My Tess…she sees me. She finally, finally sees me.

  “You are sicker than the average fuck. You love torturing me, don’t you? Are you going to make me crawl to you on this night of all nights? I just outed myself after a very raw day. You aren’t going to torture me now, are you? Please don’t embarrass me…I don’t think I can handle any more humiliation. Are you going to make me beg?”

  “Oh honey, you have no idea how I’m going to make you beg. Oh, and yes, I want to see you crawling. It might not be what you were thinking, but sweetheart, I’m going to have my way with you and you are going to be crawling. All over me.”

  “I can crawl. I’ll crawl down the aisle to your bedroom back there if we can join the mile high club. I’ve always wanted to be a VIP member.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “I intend to enjoy this feasting. I have no interest in a quick fuck in the dark. So if that’s what you want, go for it. I hope you brought along your blow-up Bobby doll or Pecker Pete.”

  I’m tracing my finger up and down the front of her sexy-as-hell wedding dress corset, stopping each time I reach one of the clasps, wondering if she’ll let me open it for her tonight.

  “I have rules about fucking and light…you know this. That’s not playing fair.” She’s dead serious. Sadly for her, I’m writing the game rules this time.

  “I have rules too, sweetheart.”

  “Such as?”

  I pull her face to mine, then whisper near her ear in my deepest panty-dropper tone, “Such as, when my fingers make their way up your legs to see exactly where your thigh highs stop, I want to see your eyes sparkle with want. And when I spread your legs after I peel your panties down, I want to watch your chest rise and fall in anticipation. And when I finally taste the sweetness between your legs as I lick you, I want to see your head falling back and your lips mouthing my name. And finally, when I make love to you for the very first time, Tess Harlow…I will be on top of your entirely naked body, my flesh against yours, and I will be looking into your gorgeous, sparkling eyes.”

  “You’re making yourself unattainable.” Her cheeks are scarlet, but one hand is petting my thigh.

  “I could say the same of you.” But I know damn well she’s sitting in a puddle of want right this very minute. I can’t help but wonder what will win her over in the end: lust and want, or fear and angst?

  “What if we do this, then crash and burn…because you don’t like what you see?”

  “What if we do this and fly to the moon? I already like what I see. I’ve told you this already.”

  “Okay, Mr. Glass Half Full…so what? You want to just play house for a few days?” She starts in saying those words as she peppers my neck with small kisses, then proceeds to suck my earlobe like it’s one of my nuts. I gotta say, that tongue of hers for the fifteen seconds it was on my cock when we were by the hot tub at the cabin…yeah, that was fifteen seconds of pure, unadulterated, joyful cock-tonguing.

  “Sure, we’ll have no problem filling our time as far as I’m concerned. I even got us the penthouse with the rooftop pool so you could feel as free as possible—when you’re walking around naked.”

  “You’re dreaming…and trouble. I hate you for it. Since when have you been a rule follower?”

  “Since my best friend’s internal courage bank account needed a major infusion of bravery. I’m the perfect person to help you overcome your fear of self. And you, Tess, are portraying yourself as a damsel in distress far too well. I think you actually want to show yourself to me. I think you’re dying to. I think you want me to tie you up and strip you down like one of those paintings from the Middle Ages where the woman is chained to the tree in the woods and the knight comes to her rescue.”

  “You’re deranged.”

  “We’ll see. I’ve held out this long. I can wait as long as you like. I’m like a puffer fish holding my air. We can stay down for as long as you like, gorgeous. But at some point you’re going to ask me to strip you all the way down and love the ever-fucking daylights out of you,” I tell her as I inch my fingers up inside of her skirt, teasing her inner thighs until I reach the top of her stockings. I steal my fingers inside for a bit until she lets out a little breathy moan. And really, I want her more than anything I’ve ever wanted. I know she’s close to letting me in; I know it’ll happen tonight or tomorrow night, or the night after…

  I’ve got all the time in the world. We’re not leaving the penthouse suite until it does happen—the whole fucking shebang, that is.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  TESS

  For the first time in our lives we are both finally free to explore a relationship, one that we have both confessed to wanting for years, and I manage to be the one that puts up the No Diving in the Deep End sign.

  He’s right on all accounts. Again. I do want to show him all of me. I want my entire naked body pressed against his promised land of rippling six-pack fuckage. That body that was designed for pure and primal pleasuring. Hell, we’re not even locked in that penthouse alone yet and I’m panting. My mouth waters just from me watching his perfectly formed lips that were made for kissing and sucking. What he wants is what I want. I want to be free. Free and naked and fearless with him in every way possible. I realize, of course, I need to get naked with myself on the inside first; that’s where the real battle lies. Again, here we sit… There are three sides to our story. Mine, his, and the truth.

  I hate that I’m sitting like a caged bird. Problem is, I’ve done this to myself. I flew right in, then settled contentedly on the perch for years. Now that Scout has the key and has offered to open the cage to free me, I don’t know how to handle it. I only know how to move around inside the cage. How does one fly into a world that they’ve never allowed their heart or brain into? I don’t think rain will slide off my feathers. I don’t know how to build a nest out there. I don’t know if I’m capable of dealing with all the predators that could claw me to death.

  Do I want to walk down the white sandy beach in a sexy little bikini, holding hands with the man I love? Damn right I do! But for now I need to just get used to the idea of fucking with some light on. Candlelight? Maybe a slow transition? You know…I fly out of the cage, land on top, look around, then slowly make my way off of it?

  Scout has every detail organized by the time we arrive. Of course he does. You’ve seen how he deals with my birthdays, so you can imagine what went through his head when my wedding day crashed around me like a crystal bomb.

  Perched on the ocean, with a bank of shimmering glass doors that opens in a seamless slide, the penthouse is spacious enough to house fifteen guests. It also happens to feel luxurious enough for Elton John. Hundreds of candles flicker through the space along with a sliver of moonlight that slices straight through the center of the room like a glistening fairy-tale sword.

  “So your fancy thumbs
were able to coordinate all of this on the flight here? I feel so Duchess of Cambridge.” I’m sitting on the edge of a massive fifteen-foot-long wooden slab of a dining table that’s covered with enough food for a small country. Still in my wedding dress. Pathetic, I know. He’s sitting in front of me, nursing a beer, with his feet up on the table as we talk.

  He’s managed to have the hotel chef make all of my very favorite things, including a coconut cake with a Twinkie topper. That’s my Scout: always pulling more strings than a marionette for me.

  “You think this is fancy? You ought to see what my tongue can do,” he says as he stands up and starts moving all the food behind me aside, making a runway of sorts. Then he sits down in front of me and holds my right foot in his hands. My heels are about five inches tall and they scream “Come fuck me!” in their finest opera. Hopefully he appreciates all they are saying and turns a blind eye to his superfluous rule book.

  “You keep telling me. It’s a lot of hype…sure you’re not over-selling it?”

  He kisses my ankles, then slowly starts moving up my calves, pushing the flounce of my skirt up as he travels up. Goosebumps race across my skin, then seem to dive straight through my belly in anticipation of where he might go next…or if he really might use that gold standard of a tongue in all sorts of naughty ways.

  When he reaches my stocking tops, he stops and stands up. My heart races. Maybe he is going to bend his rules? Maybe he will give me a mercy fuck? Please, angels of jilted brides, please let him give me a mercy fuck…I promise to try harder the next time he asks me to fuck with the lights on. He’s positioned right between my legs, kissing my neck—which feels mind-blowingly sexy, until he shatters me with the low vibration of his voice. Fuck if it’s not all whiskey-rough sliding over me like warm, hypnotizing honey.

  “You know what I was thinkin’? I want to do naughty things to you tonight: things that might help you change your mind, things that might convince you about my tongue, things that might convince you about how sexy your flesh will feel against mine, naked and bathed in all this golden candlelight.”

  Oh God. He is deeply male and I am aching for him. The sexual tension between us rocking me to the bone.

  “Oh, is that right? I might let you try to convince me,” I tell him as my heart jumps from a skip to an all-out dash.

  “Good girl,” he says as his face meets mine. He crushes me with a kiss that’s sinfully erotic as his tongue caresses the inside of my mouth in all-consuming licks of carnal want, igniting hot sparks that zing through my nerves at an unrelenting pace.

  “One,” he says as his fingers go the top of my corset and unclasp the very top hook. There are exactly ten clasps between him and my naked body. Ten clasps between my fear and my freedom. Looks like Mission Flesh on Flesh has just begun.

  “Oh, is this how we’re doing this?” I ask with my best-ever bedroomy eyes, because I’m so turned on my eyes couldn’t possibly say anything else in this moment. The smile in his, along with his devastatingly sexy grin, says all I need to know.

  “Yes. We’re doing this my way. Now be a good girl and I’ll reward you with the best fuck of your life. You’d like that tonight, wouldn’t you, Tess?” His hands are at the bottom of my corset, which is snapped onto my skirt. As he undoes the bottom clasp of my corset, he figures this out.

  “Two. And a nice surprise in waiting,” he says as he undoes every snap on my skirt, leaving me panting in my panties, garters, stockings, and corset.

  “Mmmm. Damn. Look at you, beautiful. Like a present for me to unwrap. So sexy. We’re gonna go slow, baby. I’ve waited a long time for what I’m going to do with you. Slow…you understand, sweetheart?” He slides my ass right to the edge of the table, spreads my legs apart, then drags his hands up and down the insides of my thighs, behind my knees, then back to my panties, where he begins to feather his fingers across the wet lace that barely covers me.

  “Oh, Jesus. Slow…yeah, slow…”

  He silences me with a hard kiss. A hungry lip-lock that has me moaning into his mouth. I surrender, feeling its vibrations. It’s deep, wet, dirty, and rough, baiting me ravenously and undressing me without warning. He answers my moans in deep growls as his fingers meander over my panties until he reaches around to find the narrow sliver of lace that skates across my ass, dividing my cheeks as it buries itself in my crack. And holy sugar land does he tease… He’s got game, all right. He’s committed to the vibe and it makes me desperate for his everything.

  “Tess, Tess, Tess. So sexy.” Both hands surround me, teasing up and down the lace on my ass, gently cupping my cheeks with each sweep while his thumbs come nearly around to my front side. All the while his tongue has intercourse with my mouth as if I’ve never been kissed. The man can kiss.

  “Three,” he says, and a wave of hesitation runs through me while he undoes another clasp at the top of my corset.

  “Scout, I…”

  “Shhh. Turn over onto your knees before I get to four.”

  Not for a second do I hesitate. His command erotically imprisons me. I love that he knows exactly what he wants this to be, that he takes such pleasure in what he’s going to do to me. That confidence he has—oh hell, I want to surrender everything to him when he tells me what to do.

  I flip onto my knees and look back at him. His eyes are committed, dark and brazen. He catches me glancing at him while he looks me over seductively, staking his claim. He has no idea how liberated it makes me feel.

  “Damn, woman. I love your beautiful face, but this view of your ass and your sweet pink cunt…oh Jesus…” He melts all my resolve with shamelessly wicked words along with his adoring smile. He traces the edges of my panties with his fingertips like a man on the make.

  “These have to go.” In a quick shred, he rips my lacy bits off, then spreads my legs apart. I feel like a pleasure-seeking lush about to be devoured by a tomcat. And let me tell you, I’m going to enjoy every last bit of his exploration.

  “Head down, sweetheart.”

  I nearly come at his words…the timbre of his tone. So dominant and assertive, he’ll be my undoing. His hands rest on my ass as he tenderly massages it, then his lips…they’re kissing me. Big, wet, open-mouthed kisses across my cheeks, between my thighs, then that tongue washing me. He’d told me…was bold about it…so clear when he’d said what he could with it…and…

  “Oh sweet Jesus, I…” It’s decadent, forbidden…euphorically perfect. He shouldn’t…but thank God he does. I can’t resist the crossfire of sensations. The ache of want, the crushing tease. So in an end-all, be-all surrender, I widen my legs as I moan in merciful, pleading pants, letting him invade me intimately. I feel vulnerable, roused, claimed, and more turned on than I ever knew I could be as his tongue sinfully enters my ass, his fingers sliding into the aching wetness of my pussy. I’m walking on water. Everything is new, intense, disturbingly raw and sensual—a delicious violation if ever. He teases over and through my folds and in and out of my slick openings as though he knows my body by rote. Demanding every ounce of my attention and lust in his fearless, purposeful meanderings.

  “So tight…wet…deep…you like that, don’t you?”

  So delicious is his claim on me, it’s maddening. My senses spin, my words lost in tangle of knots deep in my throat. His electric touch and laves of his tongue crush me as I fall decadently into every last swell, taste, and tease.

  “Give it to me, Tess. Let go…feel it…just like that. Feel me fucking you with my mouth, my fingers…. So wet for me.” His passionate calls become irresistible and I go from dancing along the edge of a cloud to shutting out the world in a moment of carnal delirium.

  “Scout…oh fuck.” I’m desperate with exquisite ache as he invades me everywhere, capturing me, worshiping me, discovering me in ways I didn’t realize hadn’t been discovered before now. My hips rock against him in want, each new sensation more of a seductive, arresting assault than the last.

  “Tell me, sweetheart. You want it harder?
Deeper? Let go, baby. Tell me what you want.”

  I answer first in moans, unable to find words between the thrusting collision of his flesh against mine.

  “Please…yes… Deeper…harder, oh…” His fingers find flesh I never knew existed, his hands and tongue instinctively purposeful in their claim of my orgasm.

  “So deep… Let go, feel me. Let go, baby.” I’m pure energy under his touch as tiny electric tremors collide with convulsive jerks of pleasure that move through me, smacking every nerve ending on my body. Finally all points fire together, revealing my release, which has me flying through—and giving into—a new world.

  “Scout, I…” Tears fall down my cheeks in answer to my unraveled emotions as I lie slumped on the table in a heap of sated revelation. This man. He’s more than ravenous for me and for my transformation.

  “My beautiful girl. You okay? You’re crying…too much?” His arms surround me as he rolls me over while sweeping me into his arms. His face nuzzles mine while he carries me as my insides reel from the most powerful orgasm of my life.

  “No, not too far at all. That was intense. So incredible.”

  “Okay, good. You trust me, right? You can always tell me to stop if you don’t like something, if I push the boundaries to far, okay, sweetheart?”

  “I want you, too. I like that…boundaries pushed, all of it. It’s what I want with you. I want to be free. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s all I want with you too, baby.”

  I open my eyes, coming out of a dreamlike state as Scout lays me down on the center of a king-size bed that’s luxuriously tented in ivory netting. It feels safe, ethereal, and almost womblike. The sparkling lights of hundreds of candles dance across the room’s surfaces in magical leaps as a rawly scented ocean breeze blows through the space in a barely moving whisper. A bottle of champagne sits uncorked, awaiting celebration, on the bedside stand. As Scout comes to sit next to me on the bed, he hands me a bubbling glass.