Lock & Key Collection

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Lock & Key Collection Page 38

by Rebel Rose


  “Um-hum,” I murmur, my mouth remaining against her pussy.

  “Ohhh, it’s starting.”

  I want more of her pussy so I hook her legs over my shoulders and bury my face into her cleft, moving my facial hair against her tender flesh. Her toes dig into the muscles of my back, pulling me against her even harder.

  She tastes and smells different when she orgasms. Sweeter and muskier at the same time.

  I know when she has spiraled down from the high because her body is limp and unmoving.

  “I know that you feel satisfied, but don’t quit on me yet, mon bien-aimé. We aren’t done yet.” I crawl up her body and kiss her face. “Not even close.”

  I adjust my body when I realize that I’m probably allowing too much of my weight to press against Emma Lia. “Is it too much pressure? Am I hurting you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  She reaches behind my neck and pulls me down so that our bodies are pressed together. “I’m fine now.”

  She kisses me hard and parts her thighs so that my hard cock is pushing against her entrance. Her ankles cross behind my lower back and squeeze me closer. She lifts her pelvis and my tip barely enters her.

  “May I speak freely?” she asks.

  “You may.”

  “Fuck me, Tristan.” She squeezes her legs tighter. “Hard.”

  Now that’s an order that I don’t mind obeying. But I’m afraid to.

  I pull away and my cock slips out of her entrance. “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

  “You won’t. Cat said that we could as long as it wasn’t too rough.”

  “It would kill me if anything happened afterward.”

  “The baby and I are fine.”

  She reaches between us and grasps my cock, positioning it at her entrance and wrapping her legs around me again. “Start out slow and gentle and build up to deeper and faster as you become more comfortable with it.”

  She glides her fingers down my face, and I grip her wrist, pressing her hand against my cheek. “You will immediately tell me if anything hurts or doesn’t feel right?”

  “You know that I will.”

  “Okay.”

  I enter her slowly and squeeze my eyes shut, savoring the sensation. I pull back and thrust into her a few times, still slowly. “Fuck, your pussy is so wet and tight.”

  Emma Lia rocks her hips with me. She’s moving at a faster pace, encouraging me to become more aggressive. And I don’t disappoint.

  My face is buried in the junction between her neck and shoulder, my weight supported by my arms pressed into the mattress on each side of her head when she whispers against my ear. “Pull my hair.”

  The Dom inside me hates hearing any kind of order or command and wants to flip the script. Put his special touch on it. “Beg me.”

  Her hold around me increases. “Please, Tristan. Pull my hair. Bite me. Mark me. Make me moan with pain and pleasure. I need it, even if just a little, and you do too.”

  I’ve been holding back. Treating her as though she might shatter if I touch her too harshly. Because even the selfish Dom inside of me knows that it’s wrong to hurt the woman who’s carrying my child.

  But I can’t resist this invitation.

  I abruptly pull out of her. “Hands and knees now.”

  She smiles and rolls to her all fours. She wiggles her ass, an unspoken plea to be spanked. It’s a language that I clearly understand. And I respond without hesitation.

  She moans when my hand comes down against her bare cheek. The strike is firm but still only a fraction of the normal intensity. Something inside me simply won’t allow me to do it with the usual intensity.

  “One, Master.”

  I rub my hand over the skin that I just struck. “You’re getting five strikes.”

  “Only five?” she asks.

  The Dom inside me is dying to punish her. I want to watch my handprint turn blood red on her unblemished ivory skin. “Make that another five for questioning me. Ten total.”

  She lowers her head and grasps the edge of the mattress, leaving her ass in the air. “Yes, Master.”

  Deep-rooted satisfaction, gratification, fulfillment. That’s what I feel every time my palm strikes her cheek. I feel more like myself than I have in weeks. And we feel more like us. Only happier.

  “Ten, Master.”

  I rub my hand over the reddening palm print on her skin. “Fuck, I’ve missed doing that.”

  “I’ve missed it too. So much.”

  I push my fingers into the cleft between her cheeks and pull them apart. There it is. That tight puckered hole that I crave so badly.

  I push my thumb through the slick juices of her pussy and then circle her tight hole. Cat said that anal sex was still okay if I was gentle and ended it there, not going back to the vagina to introduce infection.

  “I want to fuck your tight little asshole.”

  “Yes, Master. Please.”

  She moans when I push one finger inside, moving it in and out, and her body rocks back and forth against it, setting the pace.

  “Want another finger?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I introduce a second finger and pump both in and out until she feels ready to take my cock.

  I still can’t believe how much Emma Lia enjoys anal sex after being so fucking adamant that she wouldn’t so much as try it. I didn’t think that we’d ever reach this point—both of us wanting my cock to pound her ass… but we can’t be rough.

  I take out my fingers and spit on my hand, spreading it over my length. “My cock has been missing your sweet little asshole so much.”

  She gasps when I begin to slide into her hole and I stop, immediately alarmed that I’ve hurt her. “Mon bien-aimé?”

  “I want it. Please don’t stop.”

  I begin slowly, rocking into her with small thrusts, until I’m buried balls deep. And I can’t stop the animalistic groan that is expelled from my lungs. “Ohhh, mon bien-aimé.”

  I fuck her slowly and gently. The sadist within me tries to convince me that harder won’t hurt anything, but the father-to-be inside me closes his ears, placing his child’s safety above his own gratification.

  My entire body tenses, and a primal groan fills the room when my balls tighten and hot, wet cum explodes out of my cock and into my Emma Lia. “Ohhh… fuck.”

  When I pull out, I spread her cheeks and wait to see my cum drip from her hole. “Show it to me.”

  She bears down and a stream of white and clear fluid flows out and down her crack onto the bed. “Good girl.”

  I get up to go to the bathroom to wash up and return with a warm washcloth, cleansing Emma Lia the way Cat instructed. Not exactly hot and romantic but required to prevent problems associated with a little bit of bum fun during pregnancy. I couldn’t bear it if something happened because I didn’t properly care for my girl.

  I lie next to her, pulling her into my arms. “Mmm… that was fantastic.”

  “And much needed.”

  “That’ ain’t no lie. It felt good to let the wolf out to play. I feel more like my old self.”

  “Is that what’s been going on with you lately?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shakes her head, saying nothing. But that shit’s not gonna cut it with me.

  “Mon bien-aimé. Tell me now what you mean when you ask what’s been going on with me lately.”

  “We were closer than we’ve ever been right after we found out about the baby, and then it feels like that dropped off.”

  Shit. I’ve been so consumed by planning this wedding last minute that I’ve overlooked the most important detail. And I can’t tell her.

  “Ah, baby, I’m sorry. It’s this Vegas casino. It’s requiring more of my time than expected. I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

  “You haven’t mentioned anything else about getting married. Do you still want me?”

  Fuck, those words coming from her wreck m
e inside.

  I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. “Yes, mon bien-aimé. I can’t wait to make you my wife, and I’m so sorry that you question my commitment to you. That’s my bad, and I swear that you’ll never question it again.”

  “I’m sorry, Tristan. I don’t want or mean to be a nag.”

  “You could never be a nag, mon bien-aimé.” I kiss the top of her head. “This weekend is going to be all about us.”

  “What about the problems in Vegas?”

  Shit, I’ve overspoken. “I’ll handle them quickly and then every minute of my time belongs to my baby mama.”

  She giggles and I know that I’ve made her happy. “That sounds really perfect.”

  We’re in the air on the private jet that I booked to Hawaii. Emma Lia believes that we’re on our way to Vegas, but I’m taking her to a surprise destination in Honolulu for our nuptials.

  No more role-playing. She’s going to become the real Mrs. Broussard. The forever Mrs. Broussard.

  Our friends and loved ones are on a commercial flight ahead of us, and she has no idea. Hard to believe that we’ve been able to pull this off without her knowing.

  “This plane is a lot bigger than the last one we took to Vegas. I can’t believe that it has a bedroom.”

  We’re still buckled into our seats from takeoff, but I put my hand on her knee and begin sliding it up her leg. “I thought that you might want to fool around this time.”

  She looks at the curtain separating our cabin from the attendant’s, pushing my hand away from between her legs. “Tristan, you really have no shame,” she whispers.

  “Were you really ever under the impression that I did?”

  “The flight attendants could walk this way any minute.”

  The captain announces overhead that we are free to move about the cabin, and I waggle my brows at my wife-to-be. “That means we can take this to the bedroom.”

  “It’s what time? Not even eight in the morning and you already want to fuck?”

  “We almost always fuck before I go to work, which is two hours earlier than it is now.”

  “Well, we’re not home in bed. We’re on a plane with other people.”

  The flight attendants enter the cabin and I lift my hand, stopping them in their tracks. “You may leave the food and champagne. We’ll serve ourselves and call if your services are needed.”

  “Yes, sir,” the pair says in unison before exiting the cabin.

  “Well, you’re going to make this the easiest flight assignment that they’ve ever had.”

  “They won’t bother us again unless we call for them. Are you satisfied?”

  She nods. “That works for me.”

  I’m out of my seat and pulling her up from hers. “Come on, mon bien-aimé. Let’s join the mile-high club.”

  “You aren’t a member?”

  “No. You’ll be my first.”

  “Well, finally. I’m your first something.”

  “Do you really not know that you are countless firsts for me?”

  “Name some.”

  “My first love. My first baby mama. My first wife.”

  “I’m your first pretend wife.”

  I know that she’s upset about my delayed proposal, but Saturday will make up for every bit of doubt and frustration that she has. “It’s coming.”

  “Whatever.” I hear the annoyance in her voice, and I get it. I was hot and heavy about getting married, and then it must seem to her as though I simply went radio silent about it.

  She walks backward into the bedroom and I close the door, locking it behind us. I hold her face in my hands, kissing her slowly and gently. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I hope that our baby looks like you.”

  “Well, I hope that our baby looks like you.”

  I rub my hand over my facial scruff. “Our daughter might look funny coming out with a beard.”

  Emma Lia slaps her hand against my chest. “Sometimes I think you’re trying to trade in your Dom card and become a comedian.”

  “Not a comedian.” I pull her close and press my forehead to hers. “Everything I’ve been, I am, or will ever be, I surrender it all to you. I am a different man because of my love for you, but I can never stop being your Dom, even after we’re married and we become parents. It’s ingrained in me as deeply as my DNA.”

  “I understand because I can never stop being your submissive. And I can’t think of anything more beautiful than the relationship that we have.”

  She says that now, but it’s only going to grow and become more beautiful. Two days from now is the first day of the rest of our lives as Mr. and Mrs. Broussard.

  44

  Emma Lia Grant

  When I wake, I feel very rested and I know that it’s the great sex. Since I’ve gotten pregnant, it’s like a sleeping pill for me.

  This is new. I’m awake before Tristan. And I choose to take advantage of this unprecedented moment by studying his sleeping figure. And damn, it is a fine one.

  Tristan is lying on his back, the sheet scrunched around his hips, covering his perfect cock. I love everything about it. Its length, its girth, how hard it gets, how good it feels moving inside me. I can honestly say that it satisfies me completely.

  I look at his face and see that his eyes are fluttering beneath his lids. Aww… he’s dreaming. I wonder what a man like him sees when he’s in the deepest of sleep. Whatever it is, I don’t want to disrupt it so I slide to the edge of the bed in slow motion and place my feet on the floor of the plane’s bedroom suite. I glance over my shoulder to make sure I haven’t disturbed his slumber. He remains unmoving so I ease from the bed with the agility of a fluttering butterfly.

  When I finish in the bathroom, I return to bed and repeat the same motion in reverse. I’m so pleased with myself because I manage to slip into bed next to Tristan without waking him. But then I realize I’m basking in my accomplishment prematurely when he suddenly rises and pins me beneath him.

  “What were you doing?”

  “Peeing—you know that thing that pregnant women do all of the time?”

  Tristan moves down my body. I’m expecting him to initiate another round of sex, but instead he stops at my belly, his face hovering over my navel. “How can something so small already be the cause of so many changes?”

  “I have no idea.”

  I push my fingers into his hair, lightly scraping my nails over his scalp. He presses a kiss to my abdomen and then looks up at me. “I already love this little baby so much.”

  “I know. I do too.”

  He places a kiss against my stomach. “Do you want to get dressed and have lunch?”

  That’s an odd question since we should be landing soon. “You want to have lunch on the plane instead of getting something after we land?”

  “We won’t be landing for several more hours.”

  What? “I’m confused.”

  “I have a confession, mon bien-aimé.”

  I hate when Tristan says that he has a confession. Nothing good ever follows. “What kind of confession?”

  “We won’t be landing for another six hours or so.”

  The flight from New Orleans to Vegas is around four hours, but we won’t be landing for another six hours? I’m no mathematician, but that doesn’t add up.

  “I guess that the jig is up.”

  “What jig?”

  “I lied to you. We aren’t going to Vegas.”

  I’m instantly pissed off. “You swore to me that the lies were over between us.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “You had better get to explaining what it is like. Now.”

  “This isn’t a business trip about the Vegas casino. The next nine days are about us, our relationship, and our future.”

  I go from instantly pissed off to instantly melting. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m not telling you. Everything about the next nine days is a surprise.”

  “I don’t know if I can
make it another six hours. I may die of suspense.”

  “Please don’t die. We have big plans.”

  “Is that why you had Elizabeth bring my clothes this morning? So I couldn’t see them? Because I would have figured out that my new clothes weren’t Vegas clothes?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Damn, you are sly. Is it hot or cold where we’re going?”

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “Which direction are we flying?”

  “Again, can’t tell you.”

  We’ve been in the air for over four hours and have another six to go. “We must be leaving the United States with that kind of flight time.”

  He smiles. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  I go through a ton of different destinations in my mind and decide that it doesn’t matter where we go. All that matters is that I have Tristan by my side.

  I’m able to narrow down our destination when I see the beautiful Polynesian women wearing leis. “Tristan…”

  “Welcome to Honolulu, mon bien-aimé.”

  Oh my God. He brought me to Hawaii to propose. That’s why he’s been so perplexing about it lately. I just know that’s what’s been going on with him.

  I cradle my hands around his face and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you, Tristan Broussard.”

  “I love you too, baby. And this trip is going to be one that neither of us ever forgets.”

  Tristan pulls me close after we’re in the back of the limo. He leans over to kiss the side of my neck and my skin instantly prickles while something stirs deep within my belly.

  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to straddle you right here and now before we make it to the hotel.”

  He leans back in the seat, and I can tell he’s fighting a grin.

  “What? Are you up to something?”

  “I have more surprises, but I’m nervous about your reaction.”

  “More surprises?”

  A proposal. Surely, that is one of them. “Well, I can only think of one thing that could top surprising me with this trip.”

  “And that would be what?”

  “You should be able to figure that one out on your own, Mr. Broussard.”

  I hope that I’m not building this up in my mind only to be let down. That would break my heart.

  “Your next surprise is coming up very soon.” Tristan reaches into his inner jacket pocket and takes out something. “And I want you to wear this.”

 

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