One More Breath

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One More Breath Page 10

by Delaney Williams


  With a wary look at me, she walks into the room. I stand and watch her hips sway, her ass tightening and releasing with each step as she walks into the room. I had put on loose sweats so I had room in my pants, but my cock is tenting and leaking with fervor. I have it so bad for this woman. The fact that she hasn’t tried to question or explain her way out of this situation just confirms even more that she is it for me. However, if she is still withholding information from me, we just aren’t there yet. That is something I am going to end quickly.

  I walk into the room and see her standing at the foot of the bed. “Spread your legs,” I tell her. I grab two silk ties and quickly tie her arms to the posts like we had before. “Ok?” She inclines her head, which I take to mean yes. Next, I pick up my item of choice. “This is a spreader bar. Do you know what that is?” She shakes her head, knowing not to speak. This is the most dominating scene we have ever done, but she is a damn natural. “I am going to attach each of these leather straps to your ankles. Feel them. They’re soft. They won’t hurt. The bar can adjust in size.” I show her how it slides out to spread her further, or in to bring her legs closer. “I also have the ability to attach your wrists to this so you are both spread and bent over, but I think we will work up to that. Are you okay with this, sweetheart?” She nods. “This will be intense. This is why you hear of people using safe words. We don’t need them to keep us safe, as our relationship doesn’t involve pain, but the pleasure may be so intense, you will want me to stop, even if you don’t mean it. So, beautiful, what is your safe word going to be?”

  She is quiet for a while, thinking hard on her answer. “Tennyson.”

  I smile. Of course my English professor would pick an author well-known for his tender love letters. I have to chuckle. “Tennyson it is.”

  I bend over to attach the ankle cuff to her right foot first, sticking my finger in between it and her ankle to test the room. “How does that feel?”

  “Different. Fine, but different. It isn’t uncomfortable at all, Ander.”

  “Sir.”

  “It isn’t uncomfortable at all, sir.”

  “Good.” I attach the other ankle, then began to spread the bar. When I get it far enough that it is pushing not only her balance but her pain/pleasure limit, I stop. “Good girl. Now, you are going to learn your lesson about lying to me. Until you tell me the truth about today, you will not come. I know you lied to me, Leire. I want the truth, even if I have to fuck it out of you. I will enjoy this. So will you.”

  I step back from her, lightly running my fingers down her shoulders, around to her breasts, teasing them until they are erect and she is moaning and pushing into my hand. I move downward, my hands skimming her sides and stomach. Her breathing is getting faster, anticipating where I am heading, but I’m not going to give her pleasure yet.

  I back up again and pull my sweats off, tossing them somewhere in the room. I grab a black silk tie that I had set aside, then walk up to her. Pushing myself flush up against her, I run my cock up and down her ass crack a few times while she whimpers. Then I reach up and gather all her hair in one hand, pulling it to the side. I place the tie over her eyes, tying it behind her head. She shakes a little.

  “Sweetheart, without sight, all you will have to focus on is feeling. Your orgasms will be so strong, you will lose control and yell stop. This is why we need the safe word.”

  I step back to the bedside drawer and withdraw all the other items I intend to “torture” her with for the night. I even get some toys out for myself, in case she gives me what I need and I feel like rewarding her with a little sense of power.

  I open the bottle of massage oil and begin to run my hands up and down her body, paying special attention to her breasts. I massage and pull her nipples until they are elongated, causing her to moan like a mad woman. Next, I pay attention to her vagina, oiling up her lips and circling her clit. It isn’t hard enough to come, but enough that I know she is in pain from lack of an orgasm by now. I add more oil, then move down to her feet and massage her insoles, causing the deepest groan I have heard from her yet. Apparently, teaching in heels all day makes your feet sore. This is something I will plan on doing more in the future. Then I move down to her ass. As I pour the warming oil down her crack, I see her muscles clench up. I smack her. “No. Relax these muscles. These are mine.”

  “Yes, sir,” she answers quietly.

  “Good,” I say, continuing my massage. I begin by getting her used to my hands on her ass, pulling the cheeks apart and giving them small, light smacks. With each smack, she moans. Then I open her enough to circle her pucker. I take my pinky and begin lightly running it around her hole. She pushes her ass back, and I take this as my cue. I slowly begin to push my pinky into her well-oiled opening. She moans a little in pain, then relaxes into me and begins to enjoy it. I push and pull my finger in and out, getting her ready for the real thing. In no way is she ready for me, but she will be ready for the tiny butt plug I intend on using.

  In time, I move my other hand forward and shove two fingers into her tight, wet cunt. She is so wet, I can hear her juices. My woman is really into this. I curl my fingers up to find that special spot and when she screams, I know I’ve found it. I ram my fingers into her cunt and ass as fast as I can, bringing her to the very brink of her orgasm. Her legs are shaking with want, and she is a moaning mess. Right before I feel her begin to squeeze my fingers, I pull out.

  “No!” she cries. “This is cruel!”

  I smirk. “Do you have anything to tell me yet?”

  “No…,” she whispers, tears in her eyes.

  “Then we begin again. Unless you want to safe-word…do you?” She shivers and even more tears run down her face, soaking the black tie. I grab her cheeks and kiss her. “You know I would not hurt you, right?” She nods. “These are just over-stimulated, anger tears.”

  “I kind of hate you right now,” she says with a smirk.

  I take her hand and put it on my cock, showing her how much I am dripping and hurting for her. “I kind of hate you, too. All you have to do to end this is tell me the truth.” She holds firm, I have to give her that, but this is nothing.

  Without her sight, she can’t see what I am going to do next and I can see the goose bumps of anticipation growing on her skin. Putting more lube on my finger, I reinsert it in her ass, moving it around and stretching it. Then I reach around her and grab the small butt plug, a pink crystal on the end, and slowly work it into her. I can tell how foreign it feels, her body fighting me, but she eventually relaxes and I pop it past her muscles and into place. Once there, I reach for her cunt and shove three fingers into her. She is wet enough that this poses no problem. I slowly pump them in and out, torturing her with the double fullness of her ass and cunt.

  When she still doesn’t give, when she seems to adjust to the assault, I decide I need to add more and grab my nipple clamps. Adjustable from light to hard, I clamp it onto her clit, which is elongated and in need of a good coming. I pull my fingers out of her and she moans, asking me to stop. “That’s not your word, sweetheart. You don’t really want me to stop, do you?” I ask.

  She nods. “Please, please let me come, sir.”

  Sir. Now I am getting somewhere. “Sweetheart, I would love to let you come, but you haven’t told me the truth so, no, you may not come yet.”

  She screams at me, but I just smirk. I ache, but this is something I need to do. I need her to trust me. We were so tight in the beginning. Why she is hiding something from me is more than a little worrisome. I remove the nipple clamps from her clit and attach them to her extremely erect nipples, starting with gentle and tightening until she is pushing her beautiful breasts into my hands for more. Then I tug gently, causing her to wail and thrash against all of her restraints. When I attach another clip to her clit, she nearly comes. Her legs shake and she quivers uncontrollably. “Do. Not. Come,” I order.

  She shakes her head. “I have to,” she moans.

  “Then tell me the t
ruth.” I shove my fingers back into her wet cunt and begin to rapidly move them in and out.

  She writhes and moans and jerks all over. “Fine! I will tell you!”

  I smile. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

  “That doctor’s appointment I was talking about was today. I went to get tested to see if the cancer is back. Now, I am trying my best to not think about it, so can we continue this? I really, really would love for you to make me come.”

  Holy fuck. That is not what I was expecting. I lost most of my erection just thinking of her being sick. I knew this was a possibility when we started out and I told her I would stand by her and I will, but this was fast. This is new territory and I need to adjust. I can feel her pulling away, thinking I am going to give up and leave. I grab her and bend her over. “This is for not trusting me,” I say as I pound into her.

  I am relentless, a man on a mission to make her know she is mine, no matter what. I thrust into her hard enough to make the bedposts she is tied to creak. I yank hard on her clamps and she comes, convulsing around me, her inner muscles squeezing me over and over. I continue my assault until I, too, lose it.

  After a few moments, I untie her wrists and massage them, kissing them softly before freeing her ankles.

  “Um…I kinda like that bar thingy… Think we can do that again?” she asks sheepishly.

  I smile. “Whenever you want, sweetheart. Now, we have some things we need to discuss, correct?” She nods, and I lead her over to the bed. I pull down the sheets and we climb in, then I gather her into my arms. “Tell me about the day, Leire.”

  LEIRE

  So, without giving away my secret and how I had spent most of my day, I went through my doctor’s visit and my fears about waiting. “I have been feeling extremely tired lately. I want to vomit often, but have very little appetite. I eat for you because I know it pleases you, but when you are not looking, I have been losing the food. Then there are the random bruises. With all this in mind, I decided it was time for another recheck. It was really nothing, Ander. A quick poke and draw of some blood. They promised I would hear back from them soon.”

  Taking a deep breath, hoping Wyatt would go with my story, I continue, “I called the office to tell Wyatt what was up, I didn’t want you to be concerned or rush over, so Wyatt covered for me. Ander, all we can do is wait and hope, making the most of the time we have now.”

  I roll on top of him and slide down to take him in my mouth. He groans and I take him deep. Up and down I go, licking his head as I come up. When I run my hands up his body to his nipples and pinch, he hollers. It is then that I notice a pile of goodies on the bed. Picking up a white small plug with two loops that look like finger holds at the end, I hold it up to him.

  He smirks. “Prostate massager. Want me to go mad? Use it. But you have to prep me first, okay?” I look at the little tool, then his quaking hole, and smile.

  I decide to start with the lube and a finger, since I know that had worked so well with me. I continue to lick and suck his head while he thrashes on the bed. Hmmm… I wonder what he would think of being tied down. Do I dare? Maybe not tonight, not with my news of the day. This is about us forgetting and moving on. This is not just fucking. This is making love, whether either of us wants to admit it or not. Ander is quivering on the bed when I begin to use my tongue and fingers on his taint and hole. His hands are firmly gripped into the sheets. “Babe…,” is all he can whisper. I love the way this man smells and tastes. He is all man and body wash.

  I stop for a moment to lube up the white toy and slowly work it into his ass. “Turn it,” he directs, so I do. “Twist it now.” Again, I follow his directions. “There!” he yelps, arching off the bed. “There, Leire. Now push it in and out. Yes!” He is losing it. His sounds are incoherent. I decide to add to his torture and take him in my mouth, which sends him over the edge. “LEIRE!” he roars as he comes magnificently in my mouth. I love that I have just undone my macho, dominant man.

  I lick him clean and put the toys on the side table, then crawl back into bed with him. He curls me into his arms. “Leire, no matter what, I am here for you. I have fallen for you completely. I know its fast, but… my parents tell me I leap before I look. But I see my future and my life with you. I love you, Leire. Whatever this test says, we deal with this together.”

  The words are nice, but I have seen too many people bolt when they see what cancer is really like; however, I am choosing to take a leap this time. “I love you, too.” I feel him hug me tightly, then I am out for the rest of the night.

  ****

  When morning rolls around, Ander is again up and fussing before I am even functional. This tiredness is getting to me. When I finally wander into the kitchen, he has the coffee made and is sitting at the table. “So how long before we get this phone call?” he asks.

  “Usually a day or two, so it could be today or tomorrow. Hopefully by tomorrow because, otherwise, we will have to wait until Monday. I’ve done that before and it blows.” I grab my coffee, not as into it as I usually am, and gently sit at the table. “I will let you know the minute I hear anything, Ander. Okay? I promise. And I will let you be with me no matter what.”

  He sighs and smiles. “That is all I ask, babe. Now, give me a kiss before you go to work and make all those boys horny.”

  Smiling, I kiss him gently, then leave for work, feeling very out of sorts and tired. However, I am determined to make it through the day.

  When I get to my office, my PA is already in the room grading the stacks I had left her. “Are you all right, Ms. Mac? You’re looking a little tired and pale.”

  Great. Thanks so much for pointing that out. Why do people do that? It never makes anything better. “I am just tired. I have lots of essays to grade,” I say, sitting down at my desk.

  I grade essays until my first class, which goes smoothly, then I come back to my office. It’s empty. I put my head down to rest. Suddenly, the phone is startling me awake. Did I sleep through a class? That would be embarrassing, but I have a feeling my overzealous TA would never let that happen.

  I reach over to answer the phone. “English department. Ms. Mac speaking.”

  “Ms. MacCarthaigh, this is Dr. Holder from the Oncology department at University Hospital. I am calling with some news.” My heart falls straight to my toes. Ander and I have only been together for about three months and he said he would stick by me whatever the outcome, but I am scared. “Ms. MacCarthaigh, are you still there? I have news. It is not cancer. As a matter of fact, it’s something of a miracle. You seem to be about two-and-a-half months pregnant.” I drop the phone and collapse to the floor. Someone in another office must have heard because they rush into my office, grab the phone, and start taking notes.

  A child? I have never once considered having a child. I am happy enough trying to get Ander and Lola toget… Holy crap! The party is tomorrow and I haven’t worked on a thing for it. Ander and his daughter are my priority right now. I will tell him when the time is right. We love each other so things will turn out okay. I stand and take the notes my co-worker has taken, beg them not to tell anyone as I want to tell the father first, then head out to plan the party.

  My first stop is with an accountant friend I had called previously about Ander. She easily finds out that not a single dime of Ander’s money has actually gone to Lola. While Brittany is dripping in diamonds and Jimmy Choos, Lola is attending a low-end public school wearing Goodwill clothes and hand-me-downs from friends. She is not sneaky in the least. Taking Lola from her will be easy, not that it really matters. Apparently she is turning 18 anyways, so now at least she will know she has another option other than her mother. When my friend then points out a bunch of cash withdrawals and admits she hired an investigator to find out where the money went, I know the case is closed. Brittany is doing drugs. Her, or Ander’s, money is going towards high-end clothes, credit debt, and a massive cocaine addiction. Well, that explains the moods.

  I take the papers, thank my friend, a
nd head home for the night. I need a night alone to plan for how tomorrow is going to go. Ander is not going to like this, but I need time alone tonight. He is just going to have to wait until tomorrow to see me. I have too many things to take care of.

  When I get to my house, I check the messages. The first is from Ander, wondering why I am at my house instead of his. The second is from the dean of my department, apparently having heard of the incident this afternoon, wanting to check in with me. I call her first and assure her all is well and that I just had a shock. Then I call with Ander. I tell him I had an extremely long day and am headed to bed, but that I will see him at his shop tomorrow at 5 pm for an appointment. I hold firm when he seems surprised that we even have an appointment. He then asks if I’ve heard from the doctor and I tell him we will all know by tomorrow…which wasn’t a lie. We all will know tomorrow.

  Sounding sad and resigned, Ander wishes me a good night. Before he hangs up, he whispers, “I love you.”

  The next day, I’m in a mad rush to not only finish work, but get to Ander’s shop on time. Wyatt took him out to look at some new, supposedly more comfortable tattoo tables, and I only have a limited amount of time. I have to decorate the shop before Ander gets back and Brittany shows up for her “tattoo”. I am going to inform her, as well as Ander, of what I found out, and I have to make sure that one seventeen-year-old has the best ever birthday ever. Finally, I have to decide how to tell Ander about the phone call. To say I am stressed is putting it mildly.

  When I get to the shop, I am surprised to see Wyatt had Ander already gone, and Cora decorating. The black, green, and purple streamers and decorations fit Cora well, but I’m not so sure about a shy, reserved seventeen-year-old. Oh well. I set the cake up and gather the presents from where we had hidden them. Finally, everything is ready and I am exhausted. As I take a moment to sit down, the bell on the door rings. Cora and I look at each other. It’s go time.

 

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