No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords)

by Candace Blevins

  He gave her other leg the same treatment and walked into the bathroom. He returned with his finger held out, a small smear of white on the tip. Her clit throbbed to life and swelled as her hips involuntarily pushed backwards into the bed.

  The bed sank as he climbed onto it below her, and she gasped as he deftly spread her pussy lips with the fingers of his left hand.

  His eyes met hers as his right pointer finger hovered over her clit. ”Doesn’t look like blood flow is an issue at the moment, but let’s be sure, shall we?”

  He swiped the toothpaste down both sides of her clit hood, and she breathed in relief he’d put it on the hood and not directly on her clit. It would still be intense, but so much less this way.

  The bed shifted again as he pushed his body back and his mouth settled over her pussy. His tongue flicked around the outside, teasing her as the tingle of the toothpaste turned to a burn and she moved her hips. He chuckled and the vibrations sent another thrill through her.

  “Oh god. I love you, Ethan. Please make me come. Please.”

  He pulled one of her pussy lips into his mouth and sucked, hard. She whined, wanting more, and he moved to her other pussy lip.

  When he finally drove into her with his tongue, she felt the beginnings of an orgasm but it wasn’t enough to push her over the edge.

  Other than swiping the toothpaste on her clit hood, he’d yet to touch her with his fingers. His tongue moved to her ass and she tried to jerk away. “Please, Sir. Please let me come, I’m begging.”

  He raised his face and their gazes collided as she realized she’d called him Sir. The look in his eyes told her it was what he’d been waiting for, and when he lowered his mouth again, warmth enveloped her clit as his tongue ran through the toothpaste on both sides of her clit hood, waking up the nerve endings all over again as the moisture reactivated the menthol’s icy burn.

  His tongue snaked lower, sinking into her again before returning to her clit, and this time lifting the hood away until she felt toothpaste directly on her clit.

  Her moans grew louder and his hand finally lifted from the rope on her thigh. He ran his fingers up and down either side of her entrance a few times before sliding them together and entering her. Her eyes flew open and she said, “I need to—”

  He interrupted. “Come for me, Samantha.”

  Her body took over, spasming around the fingers inside as his tongue continued to work her clit and the toothpaste kept her on fire. She gasped in pain once as she moved the wrong way and felt it in her back and chest, but Ethan trusted her to make adjustments and he didn’t slow as she stilled her upper body while her lower body released tension she’d had no idea she held.

  As she began to settle he added a third finger and rose away from her clit long enough to tell her she wasn’t finished yet.

  Her bound legs didn’t allow her to pump her hips as she wanted, but she met every thrust of his fingers as much as possible.

  He sped up, but then suddenly slowed, and plunged in and held, forcing her open around his fingers as he pushed farther into her, spreading her wider.

  “Come around the invasion, Samantha. I want to feel your muscles fighting my hand as you lose control. Give it to me, Darlin’.”

  His voice almost broke as he said the last part, and she opened her eyes to see him staring at her with a combination of love, command, and grief.

  She suddenly wanted to give him everything, could deny him nothing, and her body responded in total surrender. She lost herself in her orgasm this time, so nothing existed but the pleasure. A rainbow of colors exploded behind her eyes as her body was overwhelmed with bliss.

  Her ab muscles contracted under her bound forearms, and she ignored the discomfort radiating to her chest and shoulder and concentrated on how good it felt to release.

  When she next had a conscious moment, she realized his cock was at her entrance as his voice penetrated her ecstasy.

  “I’ll respect your safeword tonight, Sam. I hadn’t intended to be rough, but... I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, Ethan. Sir. Take me. We both need to be reminded I belong to you.”

  “If I hurt your injuries, say shoulder, otherwise use your safeword.”

  She nodded once and he pushed into her, his eyes daring her to look away as he took his time spreading her open, forcing her to take all of him as he pressed deeper, and deeper. She wanted to beg him to speed up, to slow down, to just fuck her already. Instead, she lay with her arms bound to her torso, her legs bound ankle to thigh and spread wide, and took what he gave her.

  When he finally stopped pushing in he remained motionless a few moments before pulling out ever so slowly and sinking into her again.

  This time he leaned forward to carefully place his elbows on either side of her shoulders, positioning his body just above hers without resting his weight on her. She could tell he was holding onto his control by a thread, and saw his intent to drop it a half second before his hips yanked his cock out and slammed back into her.

  Her body was shoved a few inches up the bed by the velocity, and his hands readjusted, cupping the back of her shoulders with his fingers gently but possessively curling around the top.

  His body was so much longer than hers, she knew his back had to be arched a great deal to bring their cheeks together while he was buried inside her, but somehow he managed to pull it off. Soon he was jackhammering in and out of her while holding her body in place, forcing her to take what he gave her.

  Deep staccato drumbeat noises came from her chest, but she didn’t want him to stop. A small section of her brain kept track of her injury, fully aware of every millimeter the bullet had ripped through her chest and shoulder. However, the majority of her focus was on her spread-open pussy, his hands, his cheek, his cock. She wanted what he was giving her, wanted him to use her like this, to get himself off with her body. Most of all, she soared at the knowledge he was reclaiming her.

  She’d missed this so much. She hadn’t realized how much she’d yearned for the soul connection that could only happen when she submitted to his will. They fit together fine as partners, but they truly connected when she allowed him to have control over her. They were two electromagnets who found great equilibrium when both carried the same charge, but only truly coupled when Sam switched her poles and they locked together.

  No, this was more than merely locking together. She felt their souls join, as if they were one entity. Especially now, with their chests so close together it was as if they shared the same heart.

  Her body was primed for an orgasm, but she gladly soared along the precipice, waiting for him to tell her when she could allow it to drag her under. She wished she could wrap her arms around him, or touch him in some way, but had no desire to change anything about the moment. He was in control, and she could do nothing but take what he gave her. Everything was exactly as it should be.

  When his movements finally grew erratic she allowed herself to slip from the precipice a little, expecting he’d tell her to come when he did, but he pulled out before he came. She opened her eyes, saw brilliant green shimmering down at her, and barely held onto her orgasm.

  “I want to pussy whip you, Samantha.”

  Her head nodded her acquiescence without her brain thinking it through.

  He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll need to get some things from the playroom. Will you be okay until I return?”

  “I’m fine, Sir.”

  He was gone less than three minutes, and returned with a blindfold, the slapper, the squid whip, and the piece of plastic spoon he’d turned into a clit protector. He settled it over her clit now, tucked between her pussy lips so it’d stay in place, and gingerly pushed a pillow below her bottom.

  She wanted to protest the blindfold — it’d been too long since she’d had to submit, too long since she’d given up the right to choose what happened to her, so it was hard to keep quiet and submit now, but she did. He wanted to take her sight, she should be grateful he hadn�
�t forbidden her use of words as well.

  He pressed her knees up and down, so her feet were in the air and stretched to the side.

  “Is the position okay? I don’t want to put too much weight on your shoulders.”

  She rolled her hips left and right the few inches she could manage, testing the strain on her shoulder. He’d used a low pillow so her hips were only raised an inch or two. She nodded, but he said, “Use your words, please.”

  “It’s okay, Master. Any higher would probably be too much, but this is fine, Sir.”

  The first strike caught her near the bottom of her right butt-cheek, the leather slapper wrapping until it was millimeters from her pussy. He repeated the same strike ten times on the right side before circling the bed and giving her left the same treatment. He was nowhere near her clit yet, but she knew he’d get there eventually or he wouldn’t have bothered to protect it.

  She relaxed and enjoyed the noise and heat of the slapper, moaning with bliss as each strike landed, and almost asked him to hit her harder a few times.

  When he stopped, she only had to wait a few seconds before she felt him removing the blindfold.

  “Thank you. Sir.”

  “You’re very welcome. I find I want to look into your eyes. I want the connection.” He traced a finger across the reddened skin on the back of her thigh. “This works for now, but we’ll figure out how to bend you over for a proper thrashing later.”

  He pressed the palm of his hand into his forehead a few seconds before dropping it. “I want to take your safeword from you for this next part.”

  She smiled and said, “I didn’t accept it back when you tried to give it to me, earlier.”

  He raised his eyebrows in displeasure and she quickly added, “I’d have told you if there was a problem with my injuries, but I didn’t accept my safeword back.”

  “Very well, then.” She didn’t see him reach for the squid, so it came as a complete surprise when it flew into the air and slammed against her pussy.

  She lost track of how many times he struck her, she only knew she didn’t cry out for each swing of the cruel rubber strands, but gave one long uninhibited scream full of panic and pain, with punctuations of terror for the worst of the strikes. She couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t move her hands, and couldn’t have safeworded through her screams if she’d tried.

  When at last he stopped, it was to toss the cruel rubber whip above her head and mount her again. His cock drove into her without ceremony and he pounded her into the mattress, his hands on her waist to hold her in place.

  She gasped, “Shoulder,” when his angle changed and jarred her up the bed, but he quickly realized the problem and went back to pounding her into the bed instead of up it. Nothing existed except his cock pounding her, his body hovering over her, and the heat soaring through her body.

  He’d driven her sky high with the painful flogging, and now rode it with her, the two of them on a journey only he could take her.

  The spoon around her clit massaged some of the muscles surrounding it, but she wasn’t going to be able to come with it on.

  “My clit, Sir. Please. I want to come, but the spoon won’t let me!”

  “I know,” he growled. His lips went to her throat and sucked briefly, releasing before he had a chance to raise a hickey. She knew he wanted to mark her, and hoped he’d stripe her ass good later in the weekend.

  He released her long enough to reach down and remove the plastic spoon. He moved one hand to her thigh and grabbed her waist over the ace bandage, with the other firmly holding her in place as he found the leverage to pick up speed and pound even deeper with the new angle.

  She gasped a warning a split second before her insides catapulted to life with violent contractions around his hammering cock. He drove into her another twenty or thirty times as her orgasm screamed through her, and finally drove in and held as he growled and snarled his way through his own bliss.

  He reached to the right and disconnected the rope from the side strap, lifted up long enough to unfasten the left as well, and rolled to his back to lie beside her. She couldn’t straighten her legs, but could pull them together and take the strain off her abs, which was all she really needed at the moment.

  He caught his breath long before she managed, and rolled to his side and freed her arms once he was breathing normally. He pulled the ace bandage from behind her instead of sitting her up to unwrap it, and she was fine with that.

  When her breathing finally normalized he said, “Is your shoulder okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for letting my hands free, though.”

  “You’re welcome.” He traced a finger over her abs. “I’d reprimand you for not saying Sir when I haven’t ended the scene, but I think we might be done.”

  She loved looking up at him when she was flat on her back, and she smiled and said, “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll wait until you tell me you’re sure. I was wrong to assume.”

  He chuckled and tenderly kissed her cheek and then her good shoulder. “I’ll let it pass this time. It’s been a while and I don’t want to overdo things with our first go round. Let’s just rest a moment, like this. When I release your legs the scene will be over.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sam slept better than she’d slept since she’d been shot, and awoke with a positive attitude. She took a deep breath, happy to feel the uncomfortable stretch in her shoulder as it meant she was alive. She’d so missed this feeling — no matter how much she’d faked optimism, nothing compared to the real thing.

  “Do you think maybe we can go for a hike today?”

  He eyed her skeptically. “It’s supposed to get up to one hundred and two this afternoon.”

  “What’s it going to get up to in the mountains?”

  They each reached for their tablet, and within moments Ethan reported it would only get up to 94 on Monteagle, and Sam said the high on Le Conte tomorrow would be eighty-three.

  “You think you can handle the hike up Le Conte?”

  Damn, probably not. If they went up the Rainbow Falls trail and returned via Grotto they’d still have to cover nearly sixteen miles. Even if they could get reservations at the LeConte Lodge so they could do it in two days, it was a lot, and the lodge was usually booked months in advance.

  Ethan crossed his arms and quickly uncrossed them. “Let’s see if we can get reservations for our favorite bed and breakfast on Monteagle, and take the hike to Greeter Falls. We can swim and eat while we’re there, before hiking out.”

  She narrowed her eyes, hating to admit she couldn’t carry in her own gear. “You’ll have to wear the backpack.”

  “I know. We’ll just need our microfiber towels, and a bag for our wet swimsuits. We can wear our bathing suits under our clothes so we’ll only have to strip to nothing after we swim.”

  “And we’ll need lunch, and lots of water.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to go, or not?”

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You call for reservations and I’ll start packing. If I do okay on a short hike today, maybe we can do the South Cumberland trail through Grundy Forest tomorrow?”

  Sam did fine during the first mile of the hike, but had to take it slow during the steep portion towards the end. She reached for a tree with her left hand once and yelped in pain at the pull on her muscles. Ethan stopped and held his hands out to catch her if she fell, but otherwise let her regain her balance without help.

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Not grabbing me? Letting me work it out myself? It’s nice to know you’d have caught me before I fell,” she eyed the steep drop off to their right, “but I appreciate how you’ve given me the space to push myself.”

  He pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. “You’re very welcome.”

  A group of older teens were swimming when they arrived at the falls, and a few had coupled off and moved to the edges where they appeared to be d
oing more making out than swimming. Sam knew from experience the water would be ice cold and she couldn’t imagine the guys were getting much from a make-out session.

  The teens were pleasant enough in their greetings, though she could tell by the looks on their faces they’d rather not have grown-ups around.

  Ethan dropped their backpack and she reached for his belt. His hand stopped hers, their eyes met for a moment, and he dropped his hand and nodded permission.

  They both wore lightweight hiking pants to protect their legs from briars, poison ivy, and other assorted trail hazards. She helped him out of his, and he removed hers. Smirking, he unbuttoned her blouse and slid it from her shoulders. He was apparently enjoying undressing her in front of an audience.

  “Go on in.” He nodded to the water and stripped his shirt over his head. “I’ll put our clothes away.”

  The waterfall wasn’t terribly strong this time of year, and Sam intended to swim to it. She couldn’t freestyle yet but had done fine dogpaddling in her pool. She lowered herself into the water and pushed off from the rock in one motion, and soon realized it was a mistake to not factor in the icy cold water. She yelped in pain as she fought to keep her head above water with her one good arm. One of the teens saw her in trouble and swam just close enough for her to reach his outstretched arm from her good side. She meant to take his hand, but he grasped her forearm from the top so she couldn’t grab him, and he quickly towed her the dozen or so feet back to shallower waters.

  “Thanks,” she said as her feet touched the bottom and he carefully released her arm. “I have a shoulder injury, and I guess I forgot it’d hurt to swim.”

  He eyed her chest. “That ain't no reg’lar injury. Someone shot you.”

  She’d forgotten the scar showed around her bathing suit strap, and she glanced down to see it and then looked helplessly at Ethan as he made his way towards them.