He put down the basket and went to her, bent, and dropped kisses on her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. “I got in an hour or so ago. You were asleep. Didn’t want to wake you up.” He brushed away a few stray tendrils of hair. Her skin glowed, and her eyes were filled with a soft glimmer of sleep and desire. Warmth cascaded through him. “What are you thinking, minx?”
Crimson flushed her cheeks. Rather than answer him, she leaned past him and grabbed the deck of truth or dare cards and held out the pile to him. Amused, he picked the top card, turned it over, and read it before he showed it to her. “‘Tie down your partner and have your wicked way with them.’ Is this what you want?” He didn’t doubt she’d stacked the deck to have that one particular scenario on top.
“Yes.” Her voice came out in a husky whisper. “I’ve always wanted you to be in charge of our lovemaking. Just wasn’t sure how to say it.” She gave him a shy smile.
He frowned. “But I’ve been in charge before. What would be different now?” He couldn’t see what had changed.
“I fully trust you now. Before, I held back. I couldn’t give you all of me, but now I can relax fully. Let you take care of me. I’m open to whatever you have in mind.” Confusion darted across her face. “I don’t know how to explain it. The words aren’t coming.” She nibbled her bottom lip.
“Would it help to have you show me?” He knew that sometimes when the words didn’t come, demonstrating for a person could help.
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Okay.” He stripped out of his shirt.
“That’s enough for now. What do I do?” As he waited for her to reply, he walked over to the nightstand and got a condom. “Tie me down. Use the handcuffs.” She bent her head toward the nightstand.
He noticed that the minx had laid out the implements she wanted him to use on her: a vibrating anal plug, nipple clamps, the leather handcuffs, and a blindfold. He picked up each item and examined them. “Are you sure you want to use those cuffs?” He didn’t want her wrists to be chafed or for her to hurt herself if she pulled too hard.
She gave him a small smile, her eyes full of trust and features relaxed. “No. I want you to use them. We haven’t before.”
The statement hung between them. She was right. He’d always gone for something padded and soft. “Okay.” He examined the anal plug next. It was thicker than he usually used on her, but he said nothing about her choice. He paused at the nipple clamps. They hadn’t used those before either. The clamps were coated in vinyl and were connected by a chain with a light weight that dropped down the middle. He hadn’t realized that this had been included in his cache in the Easter eggs. Another little surprise. He shook his head. One more reason to send a thank-you note. Even if he couldn’t find the site, he’d just wait until next year.
“Are you sure? What’s your safe word?” He watched as she pulled up her T-shirt and slipped her panties down. She tossed both to the floor. He chuckled. “Eager, are you?”
“Yes and my safe word is crystal.” Her eyes burned with determination and passion.
He nodded. “We’re not going to do a typical bondage scene here. Your wrists will be bound, but you won’t be blindfolded. Your legs will be free. All you have to do is hold on to the bedposts when I tell you and follow my directions. You just have to trust me.”
“I trust you.” Her face was open, all emotions exposed to him. He could see her words were true. She gave him the handcuffs and clamps.
“Good. Lie back, stretch your hands over your head, and breathe.”
She followed his directions without a word of complaint. Curiosity flared in her eyes, but she didn’t ask. Dean put down the pincers and opened the handcuffs. He got up onto the bed, straddled her stomach, leaned over her body, and slipped the bonds on her wrists but didn’t tether them to the bedposts. He wanted her to be able to move her arms and put them around him when they made love. Once done, he bent down and kissed the insides of her wrists, going up the undersides of her forearms, then teased the inside of her elbows with swift laps and nipped his way along her biceps. Dean placed butterfly touches with his lips along the sides of her breasts, peppering her chest with lightning-quick touches of his tongue and mouth. He kissed his way between the valley of her breasts and nibbled the undersides of the globes. He took his time moving down her body, rubbing his cotton covered legs against hers. She tasted of salt and spice. Dean swirled the tip of his tongue around her bellybutton before kissing his way back up to focus on her breasts. Her breasts were heavy in his hands. Unable to resist, he tongued the tightened peaks until they hardened further. She writhed beneath his ministrations. Cries and groans filled his ears as he went from one mound and reached over and picked up the nipple clamps. Once he was sure she was on edge, he opened one clamp and secured it to her diamond-hard tip. She gasped.
He paused to look up and study her face. Pain flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t use her safe word. Her gaze met his. “Keep going.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything. Even more respect for her bloomed in his chest. He repeated his ministrations with her other nipple before putting on the next compression. Another gasp, but still she didn’t say her safe word. He positioned the chain to lie so that it bisected her torso and the weight attached to the clamps lay on her stomach. He looked down and watched the rise and fall of her tummy and wondered about her nipples’ sensitivity. Did she feel the pull on the tender tips? Did it enhance her arousal? Add to the stimulation? He could only imagine. “How does it feel for you? Good? Hurt?”
“A little pain and it’s hot and I can feel the movement of my belly. I like it.” Her hips rocked. “And the heat shoots to my clit. Dean, please.” She moved again.
He smiled. “Patience.” He bent down and kissed his way over her stomach again before he paused to take the weight between his teeth and give it a tug. She groaned and arched her chest. He didn’t go back, instead continuing downward to her hip, tracing his tongue over the juncture before he kissed and nipped along her inner thigh.
“Dean, Dean, Dean,” she chanted.
He absorbed her words and repeated the process on her other leg until her heels dug into the bedspread and unearthly noises filled the air, some of them made by him. She tasted of light and earth, of musk and salt. He breathed in the spice of her arousal and magic. As he gazed up her body from between her legs, he could see her fairy light sparkling on her skin. He didn’t want the soft glow; he wanted her to be ablaze with light as she came. Determination filled him to give her the biggest orgasm he could.
He parted her puffy labia, exposing her hardened clit to the air. He blew on the bud; then he buried his head between her legs, and teased the bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth. He sank first one, then two fingers into her tight channel. Her vaginal walls rippled around the invasion as he pumped the digits, thrusting deeper and taking his time on the withdrawal. He ignored the throbbing of his dick and focused on pleasing her.
Carrie rocked her hips against his mouth. Her juices stained his lips and coated his chin as she grew closer to her climax. Her cries and his grunts and the wet sounds of his actions filled the air. When he felt her internal muscles clamp down on his fingers, he pulled them out and moved away from her wet slit.
“Dean!” She lifted her head and looked at him. Anger blazed in her eyes.
It wasn’t enough. He wanted her screaming until her voice was raw and there was no sound left. He moved back to the sensitive button, sucking, then laving it, pushing her further and further, forcing her to cry out, to thrash and groan. He worked her clit and her pussy as her legs shook around him. With a growl he finger fucked her harder, faster. Still not enough. He released her clit with a pop, got to his knees, shoved down his sweatpants until he could free his hard-on, and settled onto his heels. He ripped open the foil and rolled the condom onto his throbbing cock.
“Sit up,” he commanded, not caring that his voice sounded too deep and rough to be his own
. Fire blazed along his spine as electric sparks danced on his skin. Sweat misted his overheated flesh, and he felt as if a fever had lit him from the inside out. The only cure: fucking Carrie until she came all over his cock. He watched her scramble up. Her breasts jiggled and the weight bounced. She let out a whimper.
He ignored the sounds and the wild look in her eyes. “Put your arms around me.”
He ducked until she could drop her arms, still shackled by the handcuffs, around his neck. He pulled her onto his lap, slid one of his legs out and swung it around until it was stretched out in front of him, then did the same to the other, careful to keep her settled on his legs. Once she was in place, he lowered her until her pussy lips kissed the head of his cock, bathing the wide crest in her cream. He gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together until they hurt as the surge of need rose up and almost snapped his control. Desire burned in swirling patterns throughout his chest as his blood threatened to burn to ashes. His balls throbbed for release. He danced on a knife’s edge between coming and disgracing himself, losing all-out control.
Carrie curled her fingers into his hair. She grabbed a handful and yanked on it hard, pulling his thoughts back from the brink. “Dean.”
“Yes?” he managed to say.
“Fuck. Me,” she uttered before she mashed her lips to his in a biting, demanding, branding kiss that short-circuited his brain cells and broke through all of his walls to reach into the primal part of himself he always kept back.
She pulled her head away. “Own me, dragon.”
He didn’t need to hear any more. He thrust as he lowered her onto his thickened shaft. She wrapped her legs around him and squeezed her vaginal muscles. They moved together as she took his lips once again, this time for a gentler but no less owning kiss. Their tongues danced and twisted as her nipples raked his chest. He released one of her hips to unfasten first one pincer, then the other. He felt her pussy spasm around his cock. A roar began in his chest as fire blazed up his throat and poured from his mouth into hers. Dean didn’t break his kiss; instead he opened his eyes and was almost blinded by her fairy light. She was aglow as her magic came alive to tickle its way down his back to his testicles. He didn’t stop the burn as he became consumed in an inferno. His cock thickened and jerked in her tight sheath, and he came, shooting jets of cum into the condom. As the air thinned and his energy began to recede, he looked at her, taking in the sight of her as she found her magic.
Tears traced her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered before she buried her head in his shoulder. Moisture burned his own eyes. For a moment at least, she had her fairy light. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“No thanks needed, amore.” He held her to him as the afterglow and the fatigue kicked in. With great care, he kept them connected as he rolled them onto their sides, facing each other. They stayed that way until she fell asleep. Reluctantly he pulled out of her and unlocked the cuffs. Concern filled him at seeing the reddened skin. He massaged her wrists, vowing to be gentler on the next round. He went through his clean-up routine with her, taking his time despite the urge to feel her in his arms once more. Awe and love filled him as he gazed down at her body. So open and vulnerable and all his.
He finished his ministrations, put the towel back into the bathroom, and climbed into bed with her. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her body heat and weight against him. He sighed. Dean was home with his mate. All was good in the world.
Chapter Seven
After Easter
Carrie awoke the next morning with a smile on her face. She stretched and groaned as the vertebrae in her spine popped. She crawled out of the bed, mindful of Dean, who continued to snore on. He moved to her side of the bed and wrapped his arms around her pillow and cuddled it. He buried his head in it, inhaling deeply before he stopped moving. Once she stood up, her muscles cried out as aches made themselves known. Her wrists and nipples didn’t hurt; that was something.
Last night had been incredible. She’d never trusted a lover so much. She had let Dean guide her, take control, and make decisions, and all she’d had to do was follow his lead. He hadn’t steered her wrong. The pleasures she’d found using nipple clamps had made her curious about what else they could do. When he’d removed the pincers, the intensity of sensation had left her holding on by her fingernails as she tried to stave off her orgasm. She’d felt as if she’d been sent flying into the unknown before she’d floated down to bathe in the afterglow. Moving, even thinking had been difficult for her. All she could do was slip off into slumber, knowing that when she woke up, Dean would be there.
She was thankful that Dean had taken the lead as he did. She hadn’t been able to fully express what it meant for her to submit to him, not just give in to her fantasies but allow him to take care of her, trust that he wouldn’t abuse the gift she was giving him. The manifestation of her powers for that one intense moment had been glorious, but she doubted if she’d get an experience like that again. There was much she needed to research. Both of them, in fact, had to figure out their pasts. At least she wasn’t alone.
She gave Dean’s sleeping form one more glance before she headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she dried off, got dressed, and went down to the kitchen to start breakfast. She decided a bacon quiche was in order. As she lost herself in the prep work, she let her mind wander. In a matter of two weeks, they had come a long way. She and Dean could talk, communicate more—there were no walls—and he was more relaxed, less stressed. It made her heart happy to see that. In the end she wanted what was best for him and for herself. They both needed love and acceptance, to be heard, and now they had it.
“Morning, minx.” Dean slid up behind her and pressed a kiss to her nape. “That looks good.”
“Morning, dragon. Of course it does. It’s your recipe, and I’m not finished yet. Why don’t you go set the table? Once they smell food, the others will be down ASAP.” She focused on getting the food cooked.
“I was thinking that maybe since it’s a slow time of year, and the others can handle the load if an emergency comes up, we hit the road for a month or two and try and find your people. We can stay with friends and research along the way. What do you think?” His words were careful, measured.
Joy bloomed in her chest. He was willing to take time off work to go on vacation with her. Another step in his progress as a better mate. “Of course! Yes! I would love to. When do we leave?”
Dean let out a laugh that seemed to come from his whole being. She turned to look at him. The unfiltered happiness lit up his eyes, and his features were relaxed and open.
He wiped away tears and grinned at her. “We leave in the morning. Today we prep, and I need to do something, okay?”
She returned his smile. “Yes, and it’s more than okay. Thank you!”
He shrugged. “No need to thank me, amore. It’s what mates do for each other.” He went to set up the table. It didn’t take long for him to finish. “I’ll be back in time to eat. Just have to do something.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek before he left the room.
Yes, life really had improved for them. And all because of an Easter basket.
* * * *
Dean nodded to a few of the hunters who rushed toward the kitchen in hopes of getting an early taste before all the food was gone. His stomach rumbled, but he ignored it. He needed to contact the Sundae’s Adult Basket website and thank them. If it weren’t for their surprises, he and Carrie wouldn’t have been able to finally open up.
He went into the office and closed the door behind him. He went behind the desk and sank down into his chair, logged in, and opened up his e-mail. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the e-mail address for Sundae’s. It wasn’t a No Reply type, but he didn’t need a response. All he needed was for his message to get there. He started his message without thought, letting his fingers flow over the keys.
To whom it may concern,
I just wanted to drop you a note to say thank you for the ext
ras you included in my basket. My mate and I loved them and put them to good use. Because of your surprises I can now talk to her without walls. There was so much hurt between us and the truth or dare cards helped us not only face ourselves but our pasts and our true desires. So this is me, saying thank you. I aim to recommend your site to everyone I think could use that special Essie touch.
Sincerely,
Dean
He read it over a few times and then hit Send. Tomorrow he and Carrie would be off on their journey to discover and reconcile their pasts and heal wounds, but more importantly they would continue the bonding process and tear down more walls. He had never thought he could have this life with a mate and safety and a home, but he had it, and he wasn’t going to let anything take that away from him. They had their lives and their love. No walls, no distance. Just them. And that was more than enough.
Loose Id Titles by Selena Illyria
Thawing Ava
* * * *
The BLOOD CLAIM Series
Trapped
Prelude
Tainted
* * * *
Stacking the Deck
(an Eostre’s Baskets story)
Selena Illyria
Multi-published author, part vampire, part pixie, Selena Illyria was born with a need to write and enable. Her imagination takes her into the paranormal, sci-fi and fantasy genres and all sorts of mischief. When not writing she enjoys catching up on her TBR pile, watching some of her favorite programs, and listening to her favorite music, as well as teasing people with posts on decadent food and plot bunnies.
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Eostre's Baskets: Stacking the Deck Page 9