Filthy Series

by Bliss, Chelle

  He arches a brow. “I was thinking the same for you, babe.”

  “A few times, though?” I give him a mock skeptical look. “You think you can make that happen?”

  “Oh, little girl.” His laugh is low and sexy. “I’m gonna make you so sorry you said that.”

  He rests his hand on my throat, his thumb stroking my jaw as he kisses me. He’s soft and gentle at first, but when I moan into his mouth, he slides his hand down to my breast and squeezes it as his other arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against him.

  His mouth is hot and hungry against mine, like he’s trying to make up for all the kisses we’ve missed giving each other in our time apart.

  I force myself to pull away from him, licking my lips as I step back and say, “Too bad we don’t have the ropes.”

  “That is a shame, isn’t it?” He steps forward and puts his hands around my hips, his eyes swimming with desire as he looks down at me. “You could use a night tied to the bed with your ass in the air.”

  “Maybe next time.” I put my hands on his hard, broad shoulders, squeezing the muscles there.

  “Maybe this time.” He nods over at the king-size bed where the red nylon ropes stand out against the white bedspread.

  A thousand butterflies flap their wings wildly in my stomach. Just the sight of those ropes makes my body respond. I’m warm all over, and I get even warmer when Jude walks over to the bed and picks up the ropes.

  Seeing his big, powerful hands holding the restraints reminds me why I’m so turned on by this game we play. I have to trust him completely to let myself be tied up and left helpless. Before Jude, I never trusted any man that way.

  But Jude never disappoints me. He pushes our game to the edge of my comfort zone, but never steps past it.

  “I could take a nice, long shower first.” I glance at the bathroom. “Or soak in the tub for an hour or so.”

  He shakes his head. “Come here.”

  I swallow hard, every nerve in my body dancing with awareness as I slip out of my heels and walk over to him.

  When I’m right next to him, he turns me around gently, laying my long, dark hair over one of my shoulders to expose the zipper on the simple black dress I’m wearing.

  I don’t just hear the sliding down of the zipper, I feel it. Cool air hits my bare skin, dancing down my back as Jude unzips the dress almost to my waist.

  Then his warm hand slides over my shoulder as he slips the dress off of me. It pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lacy red bra and panties.

  “One of my favorites,” he murmurs, dipping his face to my neck.

  His lips are tender as they caress the skin of my neck, his tongue barely grazing my collarbone. My breath comes out in a shaky exhale, all the stress and excitement of the past few days of work melting away.

  I can’t think about anything but Jude right now. It’s nights like this, where he owns me, that I’m free to just feel. No thinking. No power plays. No worries about the future. I just give in to the sensations of now, which always threaten to overwhelm me.

  “On your back.” He speaks into my ear, his tone deep and insistent.

  I oblige, feeling powerful as his gaze sweeps over me. Jude would fall to his knees for me if he needed to. He’d walk through fire, slay any dragon, for the sake of our marriage. I know this without a doubt, and that’s why I regularly fall to my knees for him.

  “I need this so fucking bad,” he says as he winds the thin nylon rope around my wrists, binding them together. “You’ve made me horny as hell with those late-night phone calls.”

  He ties my wrists to the bed’s headboard, and then slides out of the bed, giving me a wolfish smile.

  “Spread your legs wide for me, baby.”

  I do, and he carefully wraps a rope around each of my legs above the ankle, then ties those ropes to the metal bed frame beneath the bed.

  I’m breathing hard as he stands up and looks at me.

  “You drive me to the edge of sanity, Reagan Titan. I didn’t think there was any person I couldn’t live without until I met you.”

  “I could say the same for you.”

  “You probably shouldn’t, though, since you’re the one tied up.”

  He slips his T-shirt off over his head and tosses it to the floor, climbing back onto the bed. Then he leans down to my stomach, his lips grazing over my skin so feather-soft I moan and hold in my breath.

  Jude is a patient man, and he takes his time covering every inch of my skin with his mouth. He kisses and caresses with his lips and his breath.

  I’m so turned on I’m panting and writhing, twisting against the ropes binding me. It’s bliss and agony at the same time.

  When he gets out of the bed and stands next to it, his hands slowly pulling his short down, I bite my lip and force myself to stay silent. His lips quirk with a smile.

  “It’s hard for you, isn’t it love?” he says in a teasing tone. “You want to tell me to hurry the fuck up and give you my cock, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I admit, staring as his shorts fall to the floor, followed by his boxer briefs.

  My husband is nothing short of glorious naked. He’s hard in every possible way. When he wraps his hand around his shaft and strokes it, I groan in frustration.

  “Feels so fucking good.” He returns to the bed, on his knees beside me.

  All I can do is look up helplessly, my body screaming with arousal, as he strokes himself all the way up and down right next to me.

  “I should come on your tits and leave you like this all night,” he says in a low growl. “Just to remind you who’s boss.”

  “Jude…no.”

  He shakes his head and strokes himself faster, groaning with pleasure. “Wrong answer, sweetheart. When we’re in bed, there’s only one word you need. What is it?”

  “Yes.” I spit the word out quickly, desperate for him to stop touching himself. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  He smiles and slows his pace. “That’s right.”

  When his free hand slides between my legs, stroking me through the lace of my panties, I moan loudly and arch my back.

  “You want me right here, don’t you?” he says in a low tone. “Buried in your pussy.”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  “Can’t get your panties off, though, with the ropes.” He shrugs and returns to stroking himself. “And I need to come now.”

  “Jude!” I pull against the ropes, my arms and legs rising a couple inches off the bed.

  “All right, baby.” He climbs between my legs. “I’ll give your cock-starved pussy what it needs.”

  He reaches both hands toward my panties, and I feel the lace ripping as he shreds it. Two seconds later, he’s inside me, groaning as he sinks every inch in.

  His mouth covers mine as he fucks me, kissing me with both reverence and lust. One of his hands wraps around the headboard, and the other cups my cheek as he pounds into me.

  Nothing turns me on like being completely at his mercy this way. He’s relentless, never slowing down or asking if it’s too hard.

  Because he knows. After five years of marriage, he knows I love being fucked with everything he’s got. And he gives it to me, his expression strained as he holds back when I start to come.

  He always makes sure I don’t just come, but come long and hard, before he lets himself. Only when I’m giving him a blow job does he let himself come when he wants to.

  I yell his name several times and tell him not to stop, though I know he won’t. His teeth sink into my shoulder, making me come even harder.

  And finally, when he feels me coming down, he slams into me with all his strength and holds himself there, groaning against my ear as he comes.

  He takes a couple seconds just to breathe before kissing me softly. We’re both panting and sweaty.

  “That was intense,” I say softly.

  “Yeah.” He kisses my brow. My cheeks. My nose. “And much better than fighting, don’t you think?”

  I lau
gh as he reaches up to untie my hands.

  “Yes. But it’s your fault we were fighting, so you should have this conversation with yourself.”

  He looks down at me. “In the morning, Ray. Tonight, I just want to fall asleep with my wife in my arms. For once.”

  “Oh, poor Jude Titan.” When he frees my first wrist, I reach up and touch his scruffy cheek. “With a wife who doesn’t give him his way every time.”

  He shakes his head as he frees my other wrist. “Don’t be surprised if you get woken up by my hand smacking your ass.”

  I lean up and kiss him. “Don’t be surprised if I enjoy it.”

  He finishes untying me, and I slip into his T-shirt and crawl into bed, snuggling against him.

  “Tyson better not come into this room in the morning,” I say. “I’ll lose my shit if he does.”

  Jude kisses my forehead. “He’s not coming in here, love. He knows better than that.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I told my staff that any man who sees you without clothes on, inadvertently or not, will be dick-punched and fired.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Completely serious. They can come in and out of my room when I’m alone, but not when you’re here.”

  I close my eyes and settle against his warm, solid chest. “I love you, Jude.”

  “I love you too.”

  After a few seconds of silence, I say, “I think I should take the job.”

  “Go to sleep, Reagan,” he growls.

  I try to, but it takes me a while, because I’ve got a bad feeling about the conversation we’re going to have in the morning.

  12

  Jude

  I sip my coffee at the small table near the window as Reagan sleeps. She looks so peaceful stretched out across the bed, the sheets tangled around her body as she snores softly. A few times I reached out, ready to wake her, but I let her be. We seem to fight more than anything else anymore, and I’m not ready for a battle at seven in the morning.

  I’ve gone over her job offer a million times in my head. I’m not happy about the entire thing, but she’s my wife, and if she’s excited, I should be too. I’m greedy, though. I want Reagan at my side and in my bed every night. I don’t want her traveling around the world, gone for weeks at a time because Andrea wants time off.

  I want my wife, but I know I also want Reagan happy. She gave up her Senate run years ago, and I don’t want her to give up on any more dreams. I don’t want to be the asshole. Her father did enough to kill her excitement of politics; I don’t want to take her zest for life and charity.

  I push myself up from the chair, knowing exactly what I need to say as I make my way toward the bed. She stirs with her eyes closed as I climb under the covers and press my front against her bare flesh.

  “Hey,” she whispers and blinks slowly as she peers over her shoulder at me.

  “Hey, baby.” I smile, trying to put on my best game face, even though every word of what’s about to come out of my mouth is almost a complete lie. “It’s so nice waking up with you next to me.” Those words are true. What I wouldn’t give to do this every day like normal married people.

  She rolls over, pressing her breasts against my chest and gives me a lazy little smile. “It is nice, isn’t it?”

  I rub my nose against her, wishing I could bottle this moment to remember her soft breasts, the heat coming off her silky skin in waves, and the feel of her body in my arms. In a few months, it’ll all be just a memory. “I was thinking…” I let my voice drift, not finishing the statement yet.

  Her eyebrows rise as she slides her hands up my chest, pulling her face away just enough to see me better. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good or bad?”

  I slowly drag my fingers up her spine, tracing the outline of each bone. “Depends.” I’m totally stalling. I don’t really want to say the words. They’re stuck in my throat, not wanting to come out.

  “Jude,” Reagan says with the same tone she uses when she’s run out of patience.

  “I think you should take the job,” I blurt, throwing the statement out there much the same way one tears off a Band-Aid from their hairy limb.

  She’s silent for a moment. Her eyes widen as the realization hits her. The surprise on her face matches how I feel inside, but I don’t let the emotion show on my face. There’s no taking them back now. No trying to change her mind. Reagan is someone I can’t control even if I want to, which I don’t.

  Her face scrunches, and her fingernails dig into my skin just enough to make me wince. “So help me God, Jude. If you’re bullshitting, I will—”

  “Baby, I’m not,” I interrupt her before she can tell me all the ways she’d make me suffer. “I want you to take the job if it’ll make you happy.”

  She bites her bottom lip and smiles, retracting her claws from my chest. “You just made me the happiest woman in the world.”

  Her words bring a smile to my face for a second because who doesn’t want to see their wife happy. I tell myself to stop being a selfish asshole, something I struggle with sometimes, but only when it comes to her. “That’s all I want,” I tell her and pull her closer.

  She stares up at me like I’ve just given her the best gift in the world. The happiness radiates from her as she curls into me, giving her lips to me without hesitation. It’s like I delivered her the moon and the stars and not a simple nod of approval for her career aspirations. One thing I already knew, Reagan was going to take the position whether or not I wanted her to, so why fight it?

  She kisses me slowly as she snakes her arms around my shoulders and starts to toy with the hair at the back of my neck. Goose bumps break out across my skin as I breathe her in.

  “Jude.” Tyson’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard as he repeats my name and knocks on the door.

  We break our kiss, staring at each other but not speaking. I gave Tyson explicit instructions not to interrupt Reagan and me. I don’t care if the world is coming to an end, I’d rather die in my wife’s arms without ever knowing the information in advance.

  “Jude. For God’s sake, open the door. It’s an emergency.”

  “Ignore him,” I say to Reagan, pressing my lips back on hers as she tries to wiggle free from my hold.

  “You have to answer him,” she tells me as she slides out from under my arms even though I try to stop her.

  She slips off the bed and grabs her robe from the back of the chair near the window.

  I slam my fist into the mattress before I launch myself upward. “This better be good,” I growl as I head toward the door, adjusting my sweats. Every muscle in my body is tense, and my cock isn’t too happy about the entire situation either.

  “Jude!” Tyson’s louder this time, and there’s more panic in his voice.

  I open the door and lean against it. There’s no hint of amusement or happiness on my face either. “What, Tyson?”

  He’s fully dressed in his business suit, hair perfectly combed like we had a meeting I hadn’t remembered. It is way too early to be this pulled together. “Have you seen the news?”

  I glance over my shoulder as Reagan walks toward us, tying her robe closed. “Been kind of busy.”

  Tyson gives Reagan a small smile, but his eyes are quickly back on me. “We need to talk in private.”

  “She’s my wife, Tyson. Not the enemy.”

  Reagan slides her arm around my side and flattens her palm against my stomach just above the waistband of my shorts. “I promise not to leak a word of whatever you’re about to say,” she tells him, but she doesn’t have to because we don’t keep secrets from each other.

  Tyson shifts between his feet and blows out a shaky breath. “We have a major problem.” He glances around the hallway and jerks his chin toward the room. “Let me inside.”

  Reluctantly, I move backward, keeping Reagan behind me, and let Tyson into the one place I thought was going to be a work-free zone for the next so many hours. But as usual, h
e has a way of spoiling everything.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as soon as the door clicks shut.

  Tyson paces in front of the window, rubbing his hands together. I haven’t seen him this worked up over something in a long time, so whatever it is, it isn’t good. “Someone went to the media stating they’ll be filing sexual harassment charges against you later today.”

  His words are like a punch to the gut as I rock backward and wonder if I heard him wrong. “Say that again.”

  Reagan’s clutching my side so tightly, her fingernails are going to leave a mark. “No one will believe her.”

  “The media’s already all over it, Jude. The Golden Boy Is Going Down was the last headline I saw come across my phone. There was also Titan’s Tryst.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” I glance toward the ceiling and try to calm myself down before I let my anger get the better of me.

  “What do we know? Who is it?” Reagan asks, finally stepping out from behind me.

  “I have people trying to find out. Right now, I only know what the media has reported, and it isn’t much.”

  “Maybe she’ll just go away.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I say, knowing what a shitstorm this is going to cause in today’s political climate. “I’ve never been inappropriate with anyone on my staff or off.”

  “I’ll get out in front of this,” Tyson says.

  “You’re already behind it if you don’t even know who it is,” Reagan says sharply. “Get the rest of the team in here now.”

  13

  Reagan

  Jude’s communications manager has to go. The first moment I get alone with my husband, I’m breaking the news.

  Monica is in her late twenties, and she’s a social media whiz. She can pump positive stories out there like no one I’ve ever seen. But right now, we’re in crisis mode for the first time, and I can’t believe the way she’s responding.

  “Don’t worry about this,” she says to Jude for at least the tenth time. “We’ll smother it with coverage of what you’re doing for veterans.”