by Tamara Lush
“You’ve been gentle with me all week. Too gentle. And you chided me last night.”
Caleb frowned. “You mean when we make love?”
I nodded. “You’re treating me like porcelain. You need to stop. I’m pregnant, not breakable. The doctor said we could pretty much indulge like we did when I wasn’t pregnant.”
“But you’ve seemed satisfied. What’s the problem?”
I stroked his short hair. “There’s no problem, exactly, but I want us to be like we were before I got pregnant. The orgasms have been wonderful, but I need…intensity. I crave it. My sex drive is off the charts, Caleb. And I don’t want you to go down a path where you start thinking of me as a mother and not a sexual woman. I want you to continue to crave me.”
He swallowed hard. “I do crave you. I think about your body all the time. I’m so turned on by your pregnancy, you know that.” He paused and stroked my face with his thumb. “We were pretty rough with each other before you got pregnant, Em. I can’t be rough now. I can’t get in the head space.”
I sighed. “Okay, so maybe not that rough. I don’t want you to bruise my wrists like you did at the beginning of the summer. And I won’t beg you to slap me like I did that one time.”
He rubbed his lips together. I knew he’d been a touch uncomfortable, and at first he’d done it to please me. Then he’d later admitted he loved it.
“I want you to tie me up tonight,” I whispered.
He looked at me with wide, imploring eyes. “Tie you to what? With what? I can’t tie you to the bed. It’s a solid wood headboard. And from what I’ve read about pregnant sex, you shouldn’t lie on your back. It’s why I’ve been moving you to your side or making you be on top.”
“And I love being on top. But I want you to act like you used to. More dominant.”
I kissed him, then whispered in his ear. “I want you to bind me tonight. I want you to bind my arms behind my back and my calves to my thighs. I’ve thought about this. I’ll be kneeling, with my legs spread. Or you can fold me forward. And then you can do whatever you want with me.”
He chewed on his cheek. “You mean like what we saw in the BDSM club that night? The woman who was on the floor?”
“Exactly. What did the guy who was giving us the tour call it? Frog tie. That’s it.”
We sat in silence, looking at each other, him caressing my nipples softly with his thumbs. The little touch made me feel melty between my legs and itching to orgasm. The room was so quiet I could hear every movement of the wind outside and every inhale of my lungs. I already felt a low buzz through my body merely thinking of being restrained by Caleb.
“I brought straps,” I said helpfully. “And my vibrator.”
He nodded thoughtfully, probably wondering what kind of woman he’d married. Maybe it was finally sinking in that he’d married an erotica writer who would bring straps and a vibrator on her honeymoon.
I grinned, and my voice dropped to a sultry, exaggerated whisper. “You can spank me. You used to love spanking me.”
Caleb broke out in a grin. “You are insatiable, aren’t you?”
“I am, and I’m not going to apologize for it. The doctor said an increased sex drive was a possibility with the pregnancy hormones. I look at you and want to fuck.”
He growled and then cupped my face rougher than he had all week. “Well, I can’t argue with that. I’ll go along with this. But I don’t want to get carried away and hurt you or hurt the baby.”
“Remember, we have the safe word. We can use it again.”
He nodded. “Trust. I remember. Now get off me and get those straps, my little pregnant sex doll. God, that sounds so perverse.”
I laughed and scurried to the closet, where I’d been keeping them in the suitcase. I’d ordered them online months ago, intending to surprise Caleb. But because we’d been so busy and my first trimester I hadn’t felt much like having sex, we’d never tried them out.
Laying the four black leather straps with silver buckles on the bed, I sat in a kneeling position. Caleb picked up one of the shorter ones and inspected both sides.
“Now, if I recall the position correctly, your arms should be around your back.”
I obediently shifted my shoulders and folded my arms, one forearm on top of another, behind my back. To tease Caleb, I arched my back slightly, and his eyes went to my nipples.
He leaned forward to suck on one breast. “See, this is where I get distracted,” he said.
I wriggled away. “You can do that after you’ve bound me.”
He sat up with an exaggerated sigh and wrapped one of the straps above my breasts, anchoring my upper arms in place.
“Okay, this one goes here.” He tightly buckled it in between my shoulder blades. “Too tight?” He slid a finger under the leather.
“Nope.” I grinned.
“And this one goes down here.” The second strap went underneath my breasts and bound my arms just below my biceps. The strap supported my breasts, which looked and felt fuller than normal. The black leather accentuated the paleness of my skin. My nipples grew hard and pulsed a little.
Again, he buckled the strap, checked the tightness, and asked me if I was okay. He ran his big hands over my breasts and sucked in a breath. It was always amazing to hear him so aroused, and my eyes lowered to his cock, which was rigid and ready.
I said yes and squirmed a little against the restraints, the ache between my legs surging. He got off the bed and stepped back to stare at me.
“Fucking beautiful,” he said. “Now for the legs.”
Kneeling, I spread my thighs wide. He took one strap and I slightly lifted one leg from the bed so he could slip the leather underneath. He bound around the calf and thigh, firmly anchoring my limb, then did exactly the same with the other leg. As the name implied, my feet and legs were in a frog pose, splayed, and I rested my ass between my feet, everything exposed to him.
“You’re very flexible,” he said, running his hands over my thighs and the straps, stopping short of where I was most needy.
“Prenatal yoga,” I murmured.
He kissed me in a deep devouring motion, letting out little groans every few seconds. My skin was warm, flaring almost. This was exciting, being completely at his mercy. I shivered a little.
“Where’s your vibrator?” he asked.
“It’s in my suitcase, in the closet. In the little black bag.”
Once he retrieved it, he walked back into the room, grinning and holding the small device. The silicone vibe was small and curvy, shaped almost like a coke bottle, and pink. I’d also bought it online, and it was a powerful little toy. Caleb slipped back into the bed and sat behind me.
“Jesus, you’re fucking sexy.” He ran his hands over my arms and over my ass, pausing to dip a finger into my wetness from behind. I felt his teeth rake the back of my neck. “Can I take a photo of you? Please?” he asked in a growly voice.
Of all the things we’d done, we’d never taken pictures of ourselves in any sexual way. Maybe we were old-fashioned, but we hadn’t even sexted each other. I was too worried someone would hack into his phone or cloud. And he’d always said he preferred the real thing to something virtual.
But tonight? Now that we were married and on our honeymoon in some remote corner of Canada? Now that I was bound and wet and needy?
“Of course.”
He set the vibrator down on the bedspread and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. With a sweep of his hand, he moved my hair over one shoulder.
“I’m not going to take your face or anything to identify you. I want these for me. To remember this night.”
I felt his hand on my ass, squeezing. “Oh, that’s so perfect. Look.”
He nestled behind me and reached around with the phone. Like he said, the photos were sexy, the contrast of my skin against the straps, the dominance of his hand on my cheek.
Caleb moved in front of me and took a few more.
“Let me see,” I said.
He showed me the few he took and grinned.
“What are you going to do with them?”
Leaving the phone on a bureau, he knelt in front of me, his cock in his hand, stroking languidly. “This, when I’m away from you.”
I groaned. “Caleb. Please. Don’t tease me.”
“I never agreed to not tease you, my love.”
The straps seemed to get tighter, and I shifted. I felt like I would die if he didn’t make me come soon.
“Please touch me.”
He stopped stroking himself and again ran his palms up my thighs, leaving sparks in his wake. His thumb hovered between my legs, then slicked against my smooth labia, dipping into my wetness. There was a grace to his touch that was decadent, incapacitating.
“Christ, Emma. You’re like a faucet.” He brought his thumb to my lips and rubbed around my mouth. So dirty and so hot. I tasted myself and whimpered, my eyes briefly rolling under half-lids.
“The vibrator? Please?” I glanced down at it but, of course, couldn’t grab it because I was restrained. So frustrating. My clit ached and pulsed. When he pressed the button on the little pink device, my breathing sped up.
It took a faint touch of the vibrator for me to gasp. It wouldn’t be long until I came, and I knew I’d likely orgasm more than once. If only he’d press into my core with the vibrator a little firmer, a little faster.
“Fuck, Caleb, more. Harder,” I moaned.
“Mmm, maybe not,” Caleb said, taking the vibrator away from the junction of my thighs.
I huffed and made an indignant noise, and Caleb chuckled tantalizingly. Again he moved behind me, and I heard the rustling of pillows and fabric.
“Tell me if this is uncomfortable.” He arranged a few pillows in front of me, then hoisted my knees onto them. Roughly, he folded me forward, so my ass and legs were slightly in the air, elevated by the pillows. My stomach was nestled into a pillow and the position was gentle on my body. It was my insistent, pulsing neediness between my legs that was the issue.
“It’s comfortable.” I turned my head to one side.
“And this?” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head up, my nipples brushing against the pillows. His grip tightened enough to make me feel a jolt of pain. “Does this hurt in a good way?”
I gasped. “Y-yes.”
“Excellent. How about this?”
I felt the heel of his hand at the bottom of my ass, and then his fingers pressing into my wetness, his middle one finding my clit and looping around it with lazy circles. Fuck. He was teasing me, tormenting me, doing what he did best.
“Caleb,” I breathed. “Please make me come. Please?”
He laughed low and twirled his finger while pulling my hair with his other hand. Then he took his fingers from between my legs and I was left dizzy.
“No,” I cried. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”
“Good.” He smacked me on my ass, hard. The pain and the sound of his hand on my flesh jolted the dizziness away, turning me on even more.
“Beg,” he demanded. “Beg for my cock. Now.”
I moaned. He’d never been this demanding. “Please, Caleb, please? Just be inside me. Fill me. Fuck me.”
He released my hair, and my head pressed against the bed. I felt his erection at my entrance. Then he slid it in and I cried out, every cell in me thrumming from his rhythm. He pumped a few times, then smacked me, harder, on the ass.
“I’m fucking you now, Emma. This is what you wanted, no?”
God, yes, it was. He was thrusting hard and rough, and my mind was going white-hot with pleasure.
My body shook against the restraints and I gasped a few times as ripples of adrenaline coursed through me. He smacked me again, and my orgasm blossomed and spread over my skin, making me shudder uncontrollably.
Unlike all my previous orgasms, this one started not in my clitoris, but deep inside my core. It rumbled, then rocketed. I came harder than I’d ever had in the past and screamed, which was unusual for me. I usually kept my sex noises to breathy moans and little cries. No, this was no time to be dainty, I realized. This was an intense, full-body sensation, drowning out all thought and time. I squeezed my eyes shut, and little bursts of light danced against my eyelids. I was dimly aware Caleb also let out a primal noise.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “Are you okay? Why are you breathing so hard?”
“Can you please help me sit up?” My voice was muffled in the pillow.
Still panting hard, he pulled me up and kissed the back of my neck, which was sweaty. He moved aside a few sticky strands of hair.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled, my body still shaking and covered in sweat.
“Intense enough for you?” he asked as I felt the buckles around my torso loosen. He rubbed my arms and came around to the front to undo the buckles on my legs.
I nodded and took in a big breath now my upper body wasn’t restrained. I opened my mouth to say something, but wasn’t sure how to form words. So I laughed.
When I extended my legs, he rubbed those, too, and I finally formed a coherent thought.
“I think I had a vaginal orgasm.” I shifted a pillow behind me so I could relax against the headboard. “It was like nothing I’ve ever felt.”
Caleb moved up my body and kissed me. “That’s how I would describe my love for you. Like nothing I’ve ever felt.”
As we drifted off to sleep, I wondered if the intensity of my orgasm was truly because of the pregnancy hormones or if it was because I’d finally surrendered both my body and my emotions to one man.
Chapter 4
“My God. You’re luminous. I think arctic air did something incredible to your skin. Or did you get a really excellent facial at a spa while on your honeymoon?”
I played coy, aware Laura was staring and grinning. It was two weeks after the wedding, and we’d been back from our honeymoon for two. I was in the elevator at the King family’s development company, riding to the top floor so I could bring Caleb lunch and tell him about the morning’s doctor visit.
“Your brother’s been good to me. And I can’t do any major skin things until after the baby’s born. So if I’m glowing, it’s all because of Caleb.”
“Whatever. I can do without those details. But Canada? How was it? Those photos you texted me from the glacier were incredible. I’ve been looking at them and wondering what it’s like to walk outside and not sweat like a pig.”
I smiled, thinking of our trip, where we’d gorged ourselves on fresh scones and hot cocoa. I’d even broken my vegetarian diet twice and eaten some wild-caught salmon, my first flesh in decades, and all because my nutritionist convinced me it was good for the baby’s growing brain.
“Perfect…” I trailed off, thinking of our trip. I didn’t mention how Caleb and I had stretched out on a furry rug in front of a fire every night. How we’d watched the dancing green Northern Lights from our porch swing. Ten days of quiet, ten days of doing nothing, ten days of just us.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Caleb so relaxed.”
“Wow. I can’t imagine that. He’s always in motion.”
And what I was about to tell him would almost certainly set him off in a frenzy of action. I almost hated to tell him the news the doctor had given me an hour before. My initial instinct had been to keep it from him, but I’d long learned I shouldn’t hold back where Caleb was concerned. Anyway, it wasn’t like it was all that bad.
Not yet, anyway.
“It was weird seeing Caleb be still for hours at a time. Maybe the cold shocked him into it. The air felt incredible. It was biting. I’ve never felt anything so cold. Then we get back here and I’m sweating from the minute I wake up until I go to bed. I can’t believe how hot it is for November.”
“I know, right?” The elevator stopped at the executive offices on the thirty-fifth floor of the downtown Orlando high-rise. It’s how Caleb lived and worked best, with vast views and lots of light. “You doing okay in this heat?” Lau
ra glanced at my ever-growing stomach as I walked out of the elevator, slightly penguin-toed. I’d gained a lot of weight, the doctor had said.
“The baby’s perfect,” I replied, managing a tight smile.
It was me that might be a problem.
“Awesome news. Anyway, we’ll catch up before the holidays, okay? I can’t wait to hear more about your honeymoon. I need to tell you all about the latest saga with the IVF, too.” Laura kissed my cheek and turned left into her office, and I went right, toward Caleb’s.
His secretary beamed when she saw me. “You look gorgeous!” she chirped. “How are you feeling?”
It seemed to be the only question anyone wanted to ask me. The thing was, I felt fine. But was I? I murmured something pleasant and banal.
“Caleb’s waiting for you, go on in. I hope you brought him lunch.” Caleb’s intolerance to hunger was well known to anyone in his universe.
“Thank you, Marie. I did.”
When I entered, I pasted on a huge grin, although my heart was hammering. Caleb was on his laptop, frowning. Even annoyed, he was beautiful in the bright sunshine streaming through the windows.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said, setting my purse and vintage wicker picnic basket down on the coffee table, then going around his desk so I could kiss him. “Sorry I’m late. After the doctor I stopped at the store and then went home to make lunch and then got a call from the bookstore and…you know how it goes.”
“It’s okay.” He wheeled his chair away from the computer and stood. He folded me in his arms. “Thanks for bringing me lunch, babe. I’m ravenous.”
After a quick kiss, he broke away and looked around for the basket of food.
“Let’s sit over on the couch while we eat, and you can tell me about the doctor. What did she say?”
I sat on the edge of the brown leather sofa and leaned to open the basket. “I made your favorite.” I extracted one sandwich. “The roasted veggie with hummus wrap you like. And I brought the cookies I baked and some leftover tortellini salad from last night and apples so you can snack later.”
I pulled out two blue-and-white checked napkins from the basket, with matching placemats from home, and I smoothed them on the coffee table, like we were having a formal picnic. Then came two forks and two plastic picnic plates, and I set them on the napkins. I rested the basket on the floor, wanting to avoid the conversation we were about to have.