by Shara Azod
She moaned with mounting delight, demanding more.
So much for holding out.
Chapter Three
So what Chanta had written in her diary hadn’t been just daydreams from the trashy books she didn’t think he knew she loved to read. Drew had been worried at first. He had often wanted to push their sexual relationship, to explore the darker edge they had only played at before. He had found the small, leather bound book stuffed in a shoe box that had fallen on his head while he searched for his other shoe. Unlike his ultra-organized wife, he tended to throw things haphazardly in the closet when he undressed.
At first, he hadn’t wanted to read it. He was almost afraid of what the tiny lined pages might have contained. She had been working late a lot recently, seemingly consumed with her job and less and less interested in their marriage. What if…No, he didn’t think Chanta would ever do something like that. If she was tired of him, she would tell him so. That was the one thing he could be sure of. His wife was the most straightforward person he knew.
That meant that somewhere along the line, work really had consumed all of her time and focus. While he understood her drive to succeed, especially given the real estate market these days, he wasn’t willing to play second fiddle to a bunch of empty buildings. From the discovery of her diary, Drew knew Chanta missed their formerly avid intimacy and wanted more. For days he had poured over every word, every fantasy, committing them to memory. It wasn’t hard to do when he had fantasized of things so damn similar it was almost eerie.
When some guys at the office mentioned a little out of the way resort set by the sea on one side and deep woods on the other, the idea took root. A little research and Drew found out they offered secluded cabins, delivering food discreetly to their patrons to give guests complete privacy. It was perfect. Despite being a single room, it was a wide open space, luxurious but totally free of walls. There was no way for Chanta to hide the sexuality she had been valiantly trying to dispel by writing out her fantasies in a secret journal and stashing it away from the world. She probably hadn’t even noticed the things she wrote had gotten more intense the farther they drifted away from each other. He wasn’t about to allow it any longer. This was something they both wanted, needed really.
“Take off your clothes, Chanta.” He allowed his voice to drop into a low growl to let her know he meant business. “I won’t tell you again.”
She blinked at him, her mouth opening and closing in a cute little “o.” The shiny gloss that graced those full lips was pretty much history, a new shine coming from the darting of a delicate pink tongue. He saw the slight tremble in her hand as she reached up to slowly unbutton her no-nonsense pinstripe shirt. In spite of the conservative linen shirt and pencil skirt that fell an inch past her knees, Drew knew underneath would be all delicate lace, exquisitely cut to showcase her full, hourglass figure to the best advantage.
He had to bite back a moan of pure need as her silky soft, smooth dark skin was slowly revealed, inch by agonizing inch. She wasn’t even trying to tease him he thought with a wry grin. She was so nervous, moving with genuine caution, not really knowing what to expect. If she only knew how enticing her hesitant movements were, how unconsciously sexy it was to watch a natural performance of a woman disrobing without artifice. He stripped while watching until all he wore were his slacks, sans underwear, so damn hard his dick was rubbing against the metal teeth of his still fastened zipper.
She didn’t take it all off as he had instructed, but stood there in delicate, peach, frilly under things. Her push-up bra was certainly doing its job admirably—pressing the firm round globes of her breasts up so far they looked to be on the verge of spilling over. The matching lacey panties dipped in the front in a perfect “v” shape. He wanted to see what they did from behind.
“Go get up on the bed.” He gentled his voice a little from the first command, not wanting her to be frightened any more than she already was.
“Drew- ” Chanta began, but he cut her off before she could get going.
“Get that sexy ass up on the bed, now Chanta. Don’t make me carry you, baby. It will only make your punishment worse.
He allowed himself a small chuckle as she turned on her heel—she hadn’t taken off the pumps she’d been wearing—and stomped to the bed, glaring back at him after she barely perched on the edge of the mattress. Just as he thought, those panties hugged her juicy ass like a lover’s hand, cupping them perfectly, giving the just-right peek at her ass. Damn, what an ass it was. Despite the glower, he saw excitement shining back at him in those clear brown eyes. The knowledge that she was turned on despite herself made his cock jump. No doubt after this long weekend she would get back at him in some way, but he found he could care less. All that mattered was the here and now, getting to know his wife again, having her know him, and exploring their love life in an entirely new way.
Drew wasn’t walking into this blind. After finding the hidden diary and pouring over every syllable, he’d done his research, even going so far as to seek the advice of a seasoned Dom. After carefully explaining what he needed to learn, he felt fairly confident he could be all that his wife had fantasized about. After all, in the diary he was always the man playing with her body, driving her harder and faster to the very limits of her sexuality. The hardcore stuff he could safely rule out, Chanta didn’t want to be whipped, shared, or in any serious pain. She did long to be tied down, paddled, and taken to the edge until she was almost mindless with need.
That he could, and would, do.
“All the way on the bed, baby. Hands clasped together stretched above your head.”
This time he got no complaint, which frankly shocked the shit out of him. He refused to let her see his surprise on his face as he collected his tie and sauntered to the bed. The only visible sign of any distress was the heaving of her chest. She looked defiant, staring back up at him as if daring him to do his worse. Heaven only knew what she was expecting. Just to throw her off a little, he leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, all the while holding her hands in one of his own. Not holding her down, just the normal handholding of any couple. Until he reached her lips that was; then he gripped a little tighter while securing her to the headboard with his silk tie.
He lifted his head with a smile, inspecting his handwork—pretty damn good, if he said so himself.
“Now, baby, open your legs and show me what you have been keeping from me for far too long.”
Chapter Four
Chanta hesitated just a bit, but Drew’s finger gliding along the inner pathway of her leg, made her legs fall apart like a hot knife through butter. He planted soft, barely there kisses from her ankle, slowly across the expanse of her calf, and beneath the slight bend of her knee. Each drop of affection took root and spread heat across her body. By the time he got to her navel, flames roared through her, turning everything to on. Her nipples ached for his mouth. She squirmed against the blanket, feeling it soft against her ass.
Right now she wanted something hard.
She wanted Drew.
His tongue swirled around her belly button, and he nipped it with his teeth. Damn! She fought the urge to sigh.
“So beautiful. It’s been so long since I’ve seen this smooth, soft belly. This belly will grow my babies, our babies.”
Her breath caught. Love, warm as honey flooded her system. Damn, she loved him. She closed her eyes and let the warmth wash over her. She’d been thirsty for him for so long, for his love, but so many things held her at bay. Mostly, the desires hidden in the inner recesses of her heart. She’d been terrified he would think she was a freak. Chanta slowed opened her eyes. Drew’s kisses had stopped.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did as he asked.
“You are mine, for now, for always.”
“Yes.”
Chanta knew he hadn’t asked her, but she answered anyway.
He lowered himself between her thighs.
“Say it
again, baby.”
“Yes!” she moaned.
“Love it when you say it like that.”
With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she stifled an outcry when Drew nipped the soft part of her thigh. His liquid blue eyes met hers and shimmered with mischief. Oh, he was enjoying himself. That much glittered in his eyes like stars enchanting a new astronomer. She pulled against the tie binding her wrists, but not too hard. Hard enough to make him think she didn’t want this.
She did. Lord, she did. Her heart hammered in her chest and beat out her hunger in a steady gallop. Every slip of free time she stole at work lead to thoughts of her husband like this, demanding, taking control, binding her, smacking those wide hands of his against her ass, her breasts, and ah…
One thick digit skipped across her throbbing clit. The briefest of touches, his finger repeated the action and she involuntary arched.
“Drew,” she said, her voice wobbled. Damn it! “Stop. Stop messing around and untie me. Let me touch you. Damn it! Come on!”
“Hush, baby, hush. You want this,” he whispered.
Positioned between her parted legs, Drew pushed himself up like he was doing a push up. With his lips at the level of her breasts, he blew across her aching tips. She felt flushed. Her libido enflamed by desire.
He dared her with his eyes to disagree. Somehow he knew that this was what she wanted, longed for, masturbated to, and thought of. They’d been close, so very close, but this wasn’t something she’d ever shared with him. She’s been ashamed, confused by her desires. Somehow her husband had discovered what she wanted. What she needed.
Drew traced the features of her face with his fingers, his right hand traveling across the smooth skin of her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose and down across her full lips. Those gentle touches stirred her more than the kisses across her navel or her thighs.
“I love you, baby,” he said, his voice laden with lust. She liked his voice like that—syrupy thick with desire. Chanta drew forward against her binding, wanting to kiss him, to taste his kissable mouth.
With a small grin, Drew leaned back.
“Patience.”
“Drew!”
Chuckling in a tone so seductive, Drew lowered himself down to her apex. Just the thought of him being there, his warm breath caressing her closely shaved mound, made her squirm in anticipation. She couldn’t help it. The fabric prickled her bottom, but nothing would stay her horniness. She wanted her husband’s mouth eating her pussy right now!
“Kiss me! God, Drew, right there!”
Again with the chuckling! He, oh, he was so going to get it when she got free.
But despite her mock annoyance, she was SO turned on. Her nether lips wept in anxious splendor for his mouth. Her thighs fell open wider, and her pelvis involuntarily scooted forward as if saying “RIGHT HERE!”
“Please,” she gasped, whimpering a bit. How swiftly he’d reduced her to this wet, horny, aching mess! All from a few kisses!
Drew had been right. It had been too long since they’d been together.
In response, she felt the fickle brush of something soft. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. Her clit felt heavy, and she so wanted him to touch it, to rub it, to suck it hard until she came hard.
“Drew!”
He grinned and pushed back onto his knees. The long, rippling muscles of his torso glistened with a sheen of sweat. She smiled. She wasn’t the only one who finding it difficult to hold off. She drank him in. His cock stood out from the maple-brown thatch of hair. Ready. Eager. Weeping with desire.
Damn it! She wanted all of him. Right. Now.
“Yes?” he asked, sweetly, eyebrow arched. “Now you want my attention? Well, you’re going to get it. All of it, baby, I promise.”
Sweat droplets dotted her forehead. She caught herself panting. With a thick swallow of the lump of pleading in her throat, she licked her lips. He lowered himself down between her parted thighs again, thighs already trembling with desire so strong, it took Drew’s wide hands on them to keep them parted and not wrap them around his waist, his shoulders, or his head.
The first swipe of his tongue forced her to cry out all the pent up passion she’d kept locked away. She struggled against the tie, pulling it taunt. The next one made her grunt in pleasure. Drew sucked her clit hard, making her shout, again, before diving into her swollen nether lips. He kissed them, tenderly.
“Drew, Drew…” she panted. She’d slid down the bed, her arms extended. If only she could trap his head in her legs, she’d push against his lovely mouth until he made her cum.
But Drew had other plans. He held her thighs fast, increasing his speed, faster and faster, forcing her lower abdomen to tighten in mounting pleasure.
She closed her eyes. Yes. It was coming. Damn, she’d missed his mouth, the delicious decadence of his tongue and the fervor with which he ate her pussy. She’d never forget this again.
Lust rose up and Drew gently held her down.
“Oh, right there! Yes!” she shrieked, and right before the smash of pleasure wafted through her, Drew stopped.
Her eyes flapped open. With chest heaving, she spurted, “What? What the hell?”
“Glad you liked it,” he said, smirking outright at her. “I’ve got all weekend, and I’m going to take the whole damn weekend.”
Chanta couldn’t believe the nerve of him, but at the same time, it was so hot. So sexy, and damn if she wasn’t turned on some more. The command in his voice, his molten gaze, and look of raw, unadulterated hunger made her fidget.
For the first time since entering the cabin, Chanta looked forward to the long weekend.
Chapter Five
Drew didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. The point was to drive Chanta crazy; to make her so crazy she would think she was going to lose her mind. That had been the original plan anyway. In the process he was doing one hell of a job on himself. He was so damn hard he could break rocks with his dick. Thankfully, he hadn’t taken off his pants. He needed something between himself and the sweet siren’s call of his wife’s hot, wet pussy. It looked so pretty all bare and glistening while she undulated her hips seeking relief.
Yeah, you and me both baby.
He couldn’t help but touch her, running his palms slowly down her sides, watching goose bumps break out across the deep brown surface even though her flesh was hot to the touch. He had to wonder what the hell took them so long to push their boundaries a bit. In the beginning they would talk about everything—hopes, dreams, fantasies. Why couldn’t Chanta talk to him about this? Did she really believe he would think less of her? He knew her so much better than that. A little punishment was in order so that she would never, ever make the mistake of not coming to him with her needs ever again.
“Tell me, Chanta, how long have you been wanting this?” Drew deflected the undertones in his question by placing a soft kiss on the curve of her hip, letting his hand lightly stroke the inside of her thigh with his fingertips.
He was watching her though. Through half-closed lids, he watched her expression carefully, gauging her reaction. His woman was nothing if not intelligent. She picked up on everything he hadn’t said; he could tell by the way her eyes widened, her head jerking down to where he lounged by her side.
“I, I…umm....” Despite her dark skin, Drew could clearly see a stain of red bloom on her cheeks, spreading down her neck to her chest. He had to hide his smile against her side. “I don’t know what you mean.”
His hand landed sharply against her spread thighs, eliciting a sharp gasp from Chanta, followed by a deep moan. He watched through his eyelashes as Chanta’s labored breathing slowly calmed, not much but just enough.
“You want to try that answer again, sweetheart?”
“What?” She looked genuinely flustered, her hips canting up just a bit as if seeking another smack. “Oh, I - ” Her eyes drifted from where he lay to the ceiling, her teeth working her bottom lip a bit before she went on. “I didn’t kn
ow how you’d take it.”
Just as he suspected. “I see.”
Rolling away, he climbed to his feet and walked to the head of the bed to stroke her cheek. He had a profound sense of sadness, but at the same time he felt relieved. They needed to get this out in the open. It hurt like hell she really thought he would judge her like that, she should know better by now.
“You know, Chanta, I don’t think there is anything you could tell me that would make me think less of you. I love you that much.” When she opened her mouth to explain he placed one finger against her lips. “No, listen. I’m sad you felt you couldn’t come to me with this, but I understand. So now I’m just going to show you.”
Turning from the bed and the question in his wife’s eyes, he went over to grab one of the silk scarves he had packed for the weekend. Returning to Chanta, he gave her a tender kiss on her lips before tying the scarf around her eyes.