Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  Watching his naughty wife squirm in her bindings was about the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Especially once the message his thundering drums sent hit home. When they both were drenched with perspiration and breathing heavily, he stopped. Instead of wiping down with a towel, he sat still and felt the sweat trickling down his chest and back. He wondered if that’s what the juices leaking down her thighs felt like.

  Meghan’s soft whimper made him smile. He could pretty much do anything to her right now and she wouldn’t object. His cock surged at the salacious thought. Catching sight of the black leather flogger laid out on the floor, his smile got bigger.

  Let’s see how hard it was for her not to come once he started raining strokes on her naked body. The sexy thud of the tails striking her skin and her moans of helpless pleasure always made him horny as fuck.

  Getting up, he walked over, picked up the weighted tool, and felt the power of it in his grip. Black leather and pale skin—an unbeatable combination. Eyeing the unzipped duffel, he shoved the flogger beneath an arm and hugged it close as he grabbed the open bag, curious to see what else she had in her kink arsenal.

  Dumping it on the floor, he saw a bottle of lube and grinned at the sight. A harness with weighted Kegel balls rolled out. So did a little squeeze tube of arousal gel.

  He gazed appreciatively at his helpless Irish fuck goddess. Punishing her naughty ass was the stuff of dreams, and he was sure as shit going to make this one memorable.

  Meghan gasped when he scooped everything up from the floor and dropped it onto a rolling chair he pulled close. Dropping the flogger to the floor, it landed with an ominous thump. She looked half worried and half aroused. Good. Served her right for fucking with him.

  Chuckling, he pulled on her nipples and growled, “You make this too easy, wife. Your little bag of tricks reveals a lot.” Leaning closer, he pinched each nipple until she cried out then grunted low and dangerously next to her ear. “I want some nipple clamps. Anything with a bite.”

  “Alex,” she moaned as he kept manipulating her tits.

  “Shh. No talking from you. I do the fucking, Meghan. Or not.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “This is punishment, remember?”

  Picking up the harness of balls, he leered at her and chuckled. “I like these things. Like watching your pussy quiver when I push them deep.”

  Shoving the tube of gel into his pocket, he sat down on the chair and put the bottle of lube in the space between his legs. “How convenient,” he drawled as he adjusted the chair’s height. “Look. From here, I have an up close view of my wife’s luscious pussy.”

  Flipping the top of the lube, he dribbled a fair amount over the top of the lead bead. “Spread your legs, naughty Meghan. “

  She complied and hung there watching as he aimed the goo-covered harness of weighted balls at her opening. Briefly tugging on her auburn colored curls, he spread her pretty lips and slid the first ball just inside the entrance. Immediately, he saw her stomach quiver as her glorious muscles grabbed hold of the bead and sucked it in.

  Leaning in so he could see everything, he spread her wider and pushed the second ball in. Then with his big middle finger, he pushed them deep, making sure to keep track of the removal string. Withdrawing his hand, he gently patted her mound then cupped it.

  “That’s sexy as fuck,” he grunted. “Feeling your pussy squeeze the balls. Unf. Love it.”

  Her answering whimper was music to his ears.

  “No coming, remember?”

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tube of gel. “Now, what do we have here, hmm?” he asked. Checking out the directions, he grinned and read them aloud. “Apply one or two drops directly to the clitoris and massage thoroughly.” He snickered loudly and rolled his eyes. “When applied correctly, the arousal gel speeds blood flow to the clitoral area and may cause the vagina to become engorged. Now, we’re talking,” he teased.

  Squirting a few drops onto his fingers, he parted her lips again until the hood of her clit was fully exposed. Already swollen and probably pulsing like crazy, he enjoyed her gasp and low moan as he applied the gel. Dutifully massaging the clear gel, he tapped on the visible nub and laughed when her head fell back and she groaned.

  Standing, he pushed the chair away and picked up the heavy flogger. Striking it against his hand and then pulling on the tails all the way to the ends, he circled her and admired the fetching picture she made.

  “I think we’ll call this … You Chose the Punishment. I was just gonna spank your ass and make you gag on my cock, but I like your plan much better. Pussy stuffed with balls that vibrate the more you move. Hands tied above your head and arousal gel coating your clit.”

  He circled a few more times, biting her here and there as he went. “Add a good flogging and we have a sensual torture that will do quite nicely. And remember, wife. No coming.”

  Drawn to the seductive nature of the flogger, Alex set about working her over. He liked the ballet-like choreography of warming up her skin with light blows that eventually led to more challenging strokes. Each time she cried out, his cock got harder.

  When the leather tails struck her tits and they bounced from the impact, he grunted. There was beautiful and then there was BEAUTIFUL. Meghan had the perfect breasts for this. Big and voluptuous, they quivered from the flogger’s attention. She arched her back asking for more as he rained soft blows on her sexy curves.

  When he stopped to survey his handiwork, she hung limply from her bindings. Her hips bucked and stopped. Then bucked again. Arousal dripped along her inner thighs.

  “Oh, I can’t,” she moaned. “Alex, please.”

  He could smell her desire filling the air. Her skin was rosy from the flogger, and if her shaking was any indication, his poor, naughty wife was valiantly fighting off an orgasm

  “Who do you belong to, Meghan?”

  In a small voice, she choked out, “You.”

  He reached between her legs, found a flood of desire, and tugged gently on the string. “Who does the fucking, wife?”

  “You.”

  “Where do your orgasms come from?”

  She whimpered so sexily. “You.”

  Slowly pulling the balls from her body, he growled as a flood of nectar released along with the sexy device. When it was free of her body, he swiped his finger back and forth on her hardened clit.

  “Oh, no. Please,”

  “No?”

  She bit down so hard on her lip, he worried she’d draw blood. “I don’t want to come,” she sobbed. “You said … oh, Alex. Please don’t.”

  Aww, now see? That was the purest form of obeying he’d ever witnessed. She wasn’t begging for permission to come. She was begging not to … because he said.

  Pulling on the zipper of his jeans, he swept them down his legs along with his briefs and kicked his clothing away.

  With both hands, just the way she liked it, he held his balls in one and stroked the length of his throbbing staff with the other. If she stared any harder, her eyes would burn from not blinking.

  “Are you ready for my cock?”

  Watching the play of emotions across her face was fascinating. Her hunger for his possession was obvious. So was the struggle to obey his command.

  “No, please.” Her defeated cry made him harder.

  “Too bad,” he taunted. Stepping up to her, he put his hands under her thighs and lifted her legs around his waist. Wasting no time, Alex plunged deep with no preliminaries whatsoever.

  “Now, you will fuck me, wife. Roll those badass hips and beg for my seed.”

  “Alex.”

  “Do it, Meghan.” He smacked her ass hard, which made her pussy clench. As he held her bottom and changed the angle from time to time, Alex stood still and forced her to do all the work.

  “Stop,” he demanded when an orgasm began to build inside him. She immediately stilled, but her inner muscles didn’t get the message. With an arm beneath her bottom, he held her tight aga
inst his body with his throbbing dick buried balls deep. Using his free hand, he plucked at her clit and rolled it between his fingers. The gel certainly worked. Her juicy pearl was ripe for attention—an attention he gave with full measure.

  “No, no, no,” she cried out. Wriggling frantically in his hold, she tried to stop the inevitable, but he wouldn’t back off.

  “Will you ever scare me like that again?”

  Meghan started sobbing, “Alex, Alex,” as her body violently shuddered.

  Grabbing her hips, he pulled back and thrust home over and over. It was rough, raw, and just a little bit violent.

  “I love you, wife,” he shouted as every muscle in his body went rigid and his balls felt like they were about to explode. He felt his cock thicken and ready. He searched her face. She was almost unconscious from the effort of obeying his command.

  “You please me greatly, Meghan.” Her eyes searched for his. “Show me how well you obey your husband. Come. Now. Cover my cock with your sweet nectar.”

  Thrusting wildly, he joined her in a tumultuous climax that went on and on. Her exhausted screams rang in his head as he grunted like the animal he could be and filled her with his essence.

  She was still leaving, but he’d won the battle of wills. Every day that she shaved off her departure date was a gift to him.

  A long time later, he scooped her off the sofa where they ended up and carried her from the studio to their bedroom. They were both buck ass naked and she was nearly unconscious in his arms. Thank fucking god they didn’t encounter anyone along the way. Alex didn’t doubt that if Carmen or Drae was hovering nearby waiting to see how his and Meghan’s situation worked out, they ran for cover the second the studio door opened. Nobody around here was stupid.

  In their room, he laid her gently on the bed and kissed her soundly. Without warning, she started to tremble.

  “Meghan,” he murmured softly. She didn’t respond. Shit. She’d done this before. Sometimes their lovemaking was so overwhelming that she simply flew too high, then struggled coming back to earth.

  Rubbing her arms, he pulled her close and lightly rocked her. “Baby,” he urged. “Open your eyes for me.”

  Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open so he urged again. “Meghan, show me those bewitching green eyes so I know you're all right.”

  Alex sensed the effort that went into prying her eyes open, but she did it. His wife had balls. And then some.

  In a tiny voice, she asked, “Am I forgiven?”

  Pfft. She was incredible. “Yes.”

  “Do you still love me?”

  All he could do was smile. Brushing his fingers across her cheek, he murmured, “Mine.”

  She reached for his fingers with a limp hand. “Yours,” Meghan whispered.

  There was more to the intimate ritual, but with her next breath, she fell into an exhausted sleep. Beyond satisfied, he held her close, pulled a soft throw over their naked bodies, and joined her.

  ASIDE FROM THE undeniable fact that one entire side of his body was in agony and he was, as the guys liked to say, fucked up beyond all recognition … he felt pretty damn good.

  Paused in front of the big mirror in his wardrobe, Alex checked out his reflection. Not bad for a guy rounding up the bend toward forty.

  Slapping his midsection, he didn’t bother sucking in his gut. Wasn’t necessary. Despite half his flesh looking like it went through a meat grinder, he was a hearty motherfucker with an interesting pedigree.

  His father passed on to his only son a big, strapping body and a remarkable mind. Cristián Valleja-Marquez was your typical baby boomer dad. Born to the American side of a proud Spanish family, he was raised on hot dogs, baseball, and taught that family was everything. The family was shocked when his half-a-hippie older brother up and decided the priesthood was his calling. Nobody saw that one coming.

  But for Cristián, a much different future unfolded when he fell hard for a breathtaking California beauty named Ashleigh Dane. They met on a booze cruise to Catalina with mutual friends. Those friends? Ha! Uncle Matt and Aunt Wendy. Parker’s parents. Wendy was his mom’s college roommate, and her boyfriend, Matt, brought along his nerd friend Cris. It was, as his mother liked to say, lust at first sight.

  He chuckled quietly knowing that a framed picture of his parents’ first date sat in a prominent spot atop the family’s grand piano. In it, his dad looked like every other bell-bottom wearing, long-haired twenty-something while his mom sported a t-shirt emblazoned with the letters SXRXRNR. Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. Ah, the 70s.

  His parents weren’t getting any younger, and now that he was about to marry, the ceaseless plea for grandchildren either began or ended every conversation with them.

  Pulling on a pair of old sweats, he gave his reflection one final glance, ran his hand through hair that was almost dry, tossed his towel in the bin, and went in search of his bride.

  Biting back a groan of pain that shot through his side, he was actually relieved to find he could still walk. The last day and a half had been a shit show of epic proportion. Between his freak-out and subsequent overexertion, including drinking most of a bottle of Glenfiddich, he’d tried to burn off the aftereffects by losing himself at the drums. Could he have been any more stupid?

  He found her sitting cross-legged in the middle of their bed, focused on the phone in her hand; she wore a slight frown while an iPad and a mess of papers and magazines were spread out around her. More wedding stuff, he supposed.

  Alex smiled when he saw her. Not just because she was the love of his goddamn life, but also because she was completely immersed in what he called her docile mode. Meghan came with several gears.

  Turbo. That was when anyone who was smart just got the hell out of her way.

  If you didn’t count her yoga and meditation practice, low gear was almost non-existent.

  There was also drive or as she quipped, forward—never straight. It seemed her trademark to get to various points in her life by a circuitous route. That was how she ended up at the Villa. A finally-get-to-meet-you-and-say-thanks lunch turned into the rest of their lives. Not the road either of them thought they’d take.

  And then there was this. Meghan, the loving partner. She who would do anything to make him happy. When they were in this room, she was his enchanting submissive in every way that mattered. Last night had been quite the reminder of the powerful influences driving their relationship.

  He couldn’t change who she was and didn’t want to. Her fiery independence and take no prisoners approach to life was what first attracted him to her. Squashing that to prove he was the one with the actual balls just wasn’t who he was.

  No. From the first second of their initial meeting, when he’d been blindsided by her alluring beauty, they’d been doing this dance. He led. She followed. In everything—not just what they did in private.

  Finding Meghan still in their bed was intentional on her part. She’d leave when he said so. And the best part? She acquiesced so beautifully because she wanted to—not because he’d asked it of her or made any demands. These roles, they were natural, and it was almost incomprehensible how they’d lived before finding one another.

  She must have picked him up in her peripheral vision when he moved into view. The look of love in her eyes when she looked at him almost made Alex forget the piercing pains shooting along his side. Wearing nothing but an old, faded Justice t-shirt, she looked like a woman who’d been well used. Right down to the unmistakable love bite clearly visible on her neck.

  It didn’t matter what she was doing—walking across the room, folding laundry, doing yoga, curled up on the sofa reading—Alex loved to watch her. Her movements were so graceful and ladylike. Scooting to the edge of the mattress, he got a clear shot of the soft auburn curls framing her womanhood before she tugged the old shirt down and slid from the bed. As always, his body reacted to her nearness. Dick rising, he could feel the thickening flesh press against the sweatpants. Before he left this room
and started his day, he intended to take her one more time while the afterglow of their intense mating from last night still held them in thrall.

  Pointing at their matching chairs by the French doors leading to their private balcony, she motioned for him to sit.

  “I asked Carmen to bring up coffee while you were in the shower.” Rounding the ottoman next to his wide upholstered chair, she ran her fingers across his shoulder blades and gently caressed his neck before moving away. The loving touch was familiar. So was the underlying diagnostic he knew damn well she was performing.

  Alex reached out and grabbed her wrist before she got too far away. “Kiss me,” he commanded.

  Her glorious smile turned him to mush. With her free hand, she pulled her curls over a shoulder and leaned in. Just before her lips settled onto his, she murmured, “Mine.”

  Hearing the word made his shaft twitch. She was wrapping up the verbal ritual they hadn’t finished last evening. Sleep claimed her before the end, but she didn’t forget. His head nodded slightly.

  “Yours,” he responded solemnly. And then her lips touched his.

  Mmm. She tasted wonderful. Minty toothpaste mixed with the fruity shit she rubbed on her lips. Just around the time he was ready to fall on his knees at her feet she offered up a naughty smirk and straightened.

  “Cream and sugar or black, sir?”

  The sir was dripping with humor. God, she made him happy. Who else ever took his bullshit and then taunted him with it? He grinned. Demanding she scream her pleasure with some lusty growls of ‘Sir’ when he took her was definitely going on the agenda. She’d find some creative way to get back at him for making her do it, too. His grin became bigger.

  “Give it to me sweet,” he drawled. “And dribble some cream on top.” Not bad for some improvised innuendo.

  Where was a goddamn camera when you needed one? Bending over the tray holding a coffee pot and whatever else they needed for a private breakfast, Meghan presented her curvy ass in all its naked glory as she prepared his coffee. And the little wench knew exactly what she was doing.

  While admiring her straight-legged, ass on display posture, he noted several light pink welts on the fleshy part of her bottom. Looks like he’d been rougher with her than he thought. Knowing he had to let fly with the hefty flogger to mark her skin, instead of cringing at the sight, Alex felt an odd thrill. No doubt about it—he liked seeing evidence of his possession on her ass.