by Ranae Rose
She sat frozen, and her eyes were definitely wet. She didn’t say anything.
Maybe, like everything else, she just needed time to let it settle in.
That was okay. He could wait. She was worth it and for now, he was happy just to have her here.
* * * * *
Three weeks passed before Kerry worked up the courage to tell Grey what every part of her was sure of, what she’d tried to say before but hadn’t been able to get off the tip of her tongue. As she’d worked up the strength to actually say it out loud, their bodies had healed. His stitches had come out and her ribs had knit halfway back together. They didn’t hurt nearly so much anymore.
So there was no excuse for her to lower herself into a seat at her kitchen table like a bomb might go off if she moved at anything faster than the speed of drying paint. She did just that though, tense and nervous, tentatively happy – aching to finally tell him.
“Coffee’s good,” he said, draining the last of his cup and setting his mug down on the table as he leaned back in his chair, stretching.
It was something he did every morning, something that had become familiar to her. He was still in the habit of spending the night with her – sometimes they went to his place instead of hers – though it was something done purely out of desire now, not because he needed to protect her.
She was finally free, and this was what she wanted. This was what she’d chosen. Every time she sat across the table from him and had a cup of coffee, she felt like her heart was overflowing. Her old life had taught her not to expect much, and now, she was still adjusting to this – to having someone who fulfilled her every secret desire, every hope her ex-husband had so brutally crushed.
She was adjusting though, and she couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“Hey Grey,” she said, setting down her own half-finished cup of coffee.
He met her eyes across the table. “Yeah?”
“I love you.” Saying it made her heart beat faster, like it might explode. At the same time, it felt right.
She was hot and tingling and hopeful as she waited for his response.
He flashed her a broad grin, one that curved the narrow scar on his cheek and reached his eyes.
The sight of his smile multiplied her emotions a hundredfold, and suddenly, it was difficult to sit still in her chair.
“I love you too. You know that, right?”
She knew. And over the past few weeks, she’d tried to show him that she loved him too, even if she hadn’t been ready to admit it out loud.
“Yes. But I was afraid to tell you I felt the same way, at first. After all, you told me you loved me just a few hours after you’d sustained a head injury. I had to be sure it wasn’t something you said on some crazy impulse.”
She was teasing because she needed humor to cut through the truth, which was that she’d been afraid to say it back, even if she’d felt it. Sitting in the hospital, seeing his face bandaged where it’d been sewn back together, all because of the only man she’d ever dared to say she loved…
It had made it impossible to speak the truth. Impossible to speak at all, for a little while.
Now though, everything seemed more real. More settled. And she was sure: she loved Grey.
She loved him like she’d never loved anyone, and she was absolutely sure that he was worthy of being loved. There was no reason to hold back, no reason to let her shitty past ruin the good thing they had now.
Grey was up out of his chair and around the table in a heartbeat. His lips were hot and tasted like coffee when he pressed them against hers, kissing her so deeply that she forgot there was any such thing as the past or the future. There was only this single moment with him, and it was perfect.
EPILOGUE
“Going to your jiu-jitsu classes doesn’t count as a New Year’s resolution,” Grey said. “You already do that.” He stood at the foot of his bed in just a pair of jeans, looking mortally offended by Kerry’s declaration.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, also half-dressed in just her bra, panties and a sparkly party top. They were getting ready for the New Year’s party Sasha and Henry were throwing at their house.
“I got out of the habit this past fall, while I was waiting for my ribs to heal. Now that I’m finally back in good enough shape to handle anything, I want to go twice a week, every week.”
“Anything, huh?” Grey froze with a long-sleeved shirt held in one hand.
“Yeah. I feel fine – I can’t even tell that my ribs were ever fractured. They used to twinge a lot, but not anymore.” After the first few weeks, she’d dared to try some gentle yoga. It’d felt good to start getting back into her fitness routine, and she had a feeling it’d helped with her recovery.
“So then.” He made no move to put his shirt on – not that Kerry was complaining. His abs were as chiseled as ever, and the sexy V of muscle arrowing down beneath the waistband of his jeans was always a welcome sight. Kerry had gotten him a new set of adjustable weights for Christmas, to replace his old broken ones, and he’d been putting them to good use. “Do you want to hear my New Year’s resolutions?”
“You have more than one?”
“I have two.”
“What are they?”
He held up a finger. “One: finally use my handcuffs on you. Two: convince you to move in with me so I can use them on you at every possible opportunity.”
Her heart fluttered with surprise, and her stomach with the faintest touch of nerves … and arousal. She hadn’t forgotten about her handcuff fantasies – far from it – but sex had been a little awkward for a couple months. Not that that had stopped them from doing it, but Grey had had to accommodate her broken ribs, and he’d treated her like she was made of glass. Two months past her injury, she was healed and more than ready for him to take off the kid gloves.
“I have twelve months to achieve both those goals,” he said, “and I’ll use any means of persuasion necessary to do it. Consider yourself warned.”
“You don’t have to wait twelve months – you can check off one of your resolutions right now.”
The look on his face – wide eyes and slightly open mouth – was priceless. He dropped the shirt.
Before she knew it, he was at the edge of the bed, standing between her thighs and leaning in, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up.
He pulled her against his body and breathed a sigh, pressing his hips against her, showing her that he was already hard. It was by far the tightest embrace he’d given her in months and it felt so good that her panties got damp just from the heat of his body and the promising pressure of his erection against her belly.
She started to say something, but it turned into a moan as he rocked his hips, rubbing his thick shaft against her. Her pussy tightened as a jolt of pleasure electrified her from the inside out. She was dying to do this without any reservations, no holds barred. She wanted everything he had to give.
When he lowered her down onto the bed, he put more of his weight on her than he had in ages, gathering her up between his arms and rocking his hips again, creating friction that made the room feel ten degrees hotter.
There was still the party to get ready for, but nobody would mind if they were a little late. At least, Kerry hoped not, because no part of her was capable of waiting until later, of peeling her arms from around Grey’s neck as he kissed the side of hers, his lips hot and his teeth scraping.
She was glad she wasn’t wearing pants and wished he wasn’t, either.
Eventually she got her wish: he stripped, kicking off his jeans and peeling away his underwear, revealing every last inch of the perfect body that never failed to take her breath away. She took advantage of the opportunity to remove her own clothing too, tossing her shirt, bra and panties onto the floor.
She never got tired of looking at him, couldn’t imagine it getting old. His body was as amazing as the rest of him, and the sight of him naked made her fingertips tingle with the urge to touch.
It was a thrill to lay one hand on his hip and wrap the other around his shaft, curling her fingers tightly around his cock, always so thick and hot to the touch.
“Not so fast,” he said, catching her by the wrist and stilling her hand before she could drag it up and down his length.
She could feel how hard he was, could see his balls drawn up close to his body. He was obviously as horny as she was, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he turned and reached for his dresser with the other hand.
He kept his duty belt and a variety of work supplies up there, including a spare pair of silver cuffs that had been resting there for a while, filling her mind with fantasies.
Fantasies like the one she was currently living out. He secured one cuff around her wrist while her hand was still wrapped around his dick. The soft click of metal latching into place made her heart skip a beat.
It skipped another when he closed the other cuff around her opposite hand, binding her. Her breathing got faster too, and her gaze was drawn away from Grey’s hard-on and to his eyes.
He was looking at her like he hadn’t seen her in forever, like she was something he’d have to study for an eternity to take in every detail of, to remember. The weight of his gaze made her feel hotter, made everything inside her draw up tight.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he said, his fingers sliding along the metal encircling her wrists. “It was such a temptation, having them lying ready so close to the bed. It used to keep me up at night. Keep me hard.”
Heat flared inside her and she could feel it in her cheeks, surely turning them pink. “Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea.”
She’d thought about it too, quite a few times. She couldn’t look at him in uniform without thinking about it, and she saw him in uniform plenty now.
Now though, it was just him and her and the cuffs he’d finally put on her wrists. She still had her hand on his shaft and instead of stroking him with it, she leaned in and pressed her lips against the head of his dick.
He moaned when she opened her mouth and took him in, like he always did. She loved that sound, loved feeling his stiff flesh part her lips and crowd her mouth. She ran her tongue down the underside of his shaft, tracing a thick vein.
He buried a hand in her hair, making her scalp prickle as his fingers combed through her locks and curved against her skull. She liked feeling him there, liked the goose bumps that popped up on her arms and the way her nipples got hard and tight.
Grey was so amazing that giving him pleasure was a serious thrill in and of itself. That, and making him groan – making him so hard he said he could barely stand it – made her feel alive. Powerful, in a way she’d never been before she’d known him. He was the person she admired and loved more than anyone else, and she could make him moan – she liked that.
She also liked that he could do the same to her. Easily. He proved it for what felt like the thousandth time when he pulled back, freeing his cock from her mouth with a wet pop.
His shaft was slick and shining, reflecting light much like the cuffs on her wrists.
He had her on her back before she knew it, her hips at the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side of the mattress. They were spread wide and he was already kneeling between her thighs, preventing her from closing them.
Not that she wanted to. God, no – she could feel his breath on her pussy and she wanted this.
She was familiar with the way he pressed his tongue inside her, sucked her clit and generally drove her crazy – this was one of the things he’d done often while her ribs had healed, a way he’d given her pleasure without hurting her knitting bones. The familiarity didn’t make it any less thrilling.
If anything, memories of all the other times wound her up so tightly that she was halfway ready to come by the time he started on her clit, his tongue and lips applying exquisite pressure. He was good and he knew it, knew just how to press her buttons. She usually got off quick when he did this, within minutes of his open mouth meeting her folds.
This time, he stopped before she came.
She sighed in frustration, still arching against the mattress, burning with the tension he’d stirred up inside her.
“You’re not stopping, are you?” she asked, even though he already had.
His wet lips curled in a half smile. “Yeah, I am. You said you’re ready for anything.”
“Yeah, but I believe what you were just doing falls under the umbrella of ‘anything’. I’m ready for more.”
Normally, when she told him what she wanted, he gave it to her. She’d been a little shy at first about voicing her desires, but the rewards with him were so great that she’d quickly gotten used to it.
This time, he stood, putting his body on full display as she waited on her back in front of him, thighs open as she ached to feel him between them again. “You’ll come, but not like that. I’ve been wanting to try this for too long. I think you’ll like it. No, I think you’ll love it. I’m going to be really deep inside you, and I know you love that.”
Her pussy clenched so hard her mouth watered. Though she still longed to feel his tongue and lips against her clit, she’d be willing to settle for whatever he wanted to try, as long as he hurried. She needed to feel him, either against her or inside her, now.
He reached for the box of condoms on top of the dresser and tore one off the strip. “If you don’t like this – if it doesn’t get you off – I’ll eat your pussy until you scream. But let’s give this a try first.”
Her pussy was so wet that the bedspread was damp beneath her. If she’d been standing, she would’ve been dripping. God, she wanted him and he knew it – knew how to make her want him more.
She savored the sight of him rolling the latex sleeve down over his cock, stretching it thin over his wide shaft. As soon as he was done he grabbed a couple pillows.
She’d only had a few seconds to imagine what he might be planning, and she’d thought maybe he wanted to take her from behind, or have her ride him. Instead he lifted her up and placed her so that the pillows were under her back. She was still at the edge of the bed, and now, he stood between her thighs again.
He took them in his hands, gripped her legs halfway between her knees and hips and raised her, so that all of her weight was on her shoulders and her back, where the pillows provided some extra support and raised her higher. High enough for him to take his dick in hand and position the head against her wet folds, nudging and teasing.
“Ready?” he asked. “It’s going to be deep. It’s going to be hard. Tell me if it’s too much.”
Her knees were on his shoulders and although he wasn’t inside her yet, she could feel that what he’d said was true. Already, she was quivering. Exposed. Incredibly turned-on. She wouldn’t say a word, no matter how deep or how hard, wouldn’t want him to stop. She could feel it.
When he slid in, he proved everything he’d just said. He went to the root on the first stroke and it wasn’t just deep; it was all of his dick hitting that one perfect place inside her, the one that made her arch and gasp and grab fistfuls of the sheets.
Only, she couldn’t do that this time. He’d made sure of it. With her wrists cuffed she couldn’t support herself in any way and had to rely completely on him. She couldn’t hold onto anything either, couldn’t dig her nails into anything at all or let her knuckles go white.
So she screamed instead. She couldn’t have helped it if she’d wanted to; he was going fast, hard, barely giving her a chance to catch her breath. The blow of his hard cock against her g-spot was so intense that she squeezed her eyes shut and saw stars, an entire universe inside her head, created by her pleasure.
The more noise she made, the harder he fucked her. He was like that; he liked to give her pleasure like she liked giving it to him. He liked when she came and unlike when he’d been eating her pussy minutes ago, he didn’t tease this time, didn’t make her wait. He simply fucked her, hard, until everything built up and he
r pussy wrenched and tightened around his dick.
Her climax was white-hot and intense; she felt like she was drowning in it. Everything felt harder, deeper, almost too good to bear. He kept holding her legs, kept pounding into her as she arched against him, pushing back with her thighs, knowing he wouldn’t move, wouldn’t stop.
When it was over, she was breathless. Half because of the intensity of the orgasm he’d just given her, and half because he was still going, relentless with his intensity.
“Fuck,” he breathed, “it feels so good…”
He finally slowed, drawing out each stroke as he tipped back his head. “I love seeing you in my cuffs. Do you like this?”
A frisson raced down her spine as he thrust into her again, nice and slow. Did she like it? God, she loved it. As if the screaming orgasm hadn’t been enough of a clue.
“Yes.” Her voice came out breathy, almost choked. It was easy to come like this, but not to speak.
“Good. Because I’m going to fuck you like this again. Every night.”
She wanted to tell him that was fine by her, that he should wear his uniform next time, but the words got lost in her throat.
He moved exquisitely slowly, pressing into her with a long, deliberate stroke, holding the pressure against her g-spot as he met her eyes. “You’re still so wet. You can come again, can’t you?”
There was a hint of a smile playing around his mouth, and she knew he knew he could make her come again, that he just wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Make me.”
He did, without hesitation, thrusting hard into her, just like before.
Pleasure rolled through her, crashed down on her. If it hadn’t been for him holding her up, she would’ve collapsed.