by Kat Catesby
Asher Scott had not gone uncomfortably silent on the marriage front as I was starting to fear, he’d gone into proposal planning overdrive. His thoughtfulness, his words, the love smoldering in his molten eyes and the hopeful smile tugging at his full lips…all of it overwhelms me. I’ve never felt so happy, so safe, so loved. This man is the greatest gift of my life.
With tears moistening my eyes I simply answer ‘yes’. His hulking frame stands and swoops me into his arms and takes my mouth in the lushest of kisses before I can say another word. His tongue massages mine with long languid strokes while our friends whoop and holler around us. Ash parts just long enough to slip a beautifully simple solitaire diamond ring onto my finger before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me tenderly.
* * *
Our engagement party lasts long into the afternoon until I’m almost too tired to stand and our nearest and dearest start to take the hint and vacate. While I love seeing them, by the time I can barely get my ass up off the sofa, it’s time for them to disappear and let me sleep.
One thing I have spotted this afternoon is that there is definitely some tension between Dix and Maddie…and I mean the good kind of tension. The kind that speaks to hours in bed and lots of orgasms. Lucy, who’s adorable and hilarious by the way, noticed too. We’re joining forces to get to the bottom of what’s going on; she’s going to press Max and possibly even Dix himself for information while I beat it out of Maddie. But that’s a plan for another day, right now I’m working on how to walk up the stairs without it a) hurting too much and b) looking like I need a zimmer frame to move.
While I ponder this conundrum on the bottom step, a pair of large, warm arms wrap around me and sweep gently under my knees, pulling me up so that I’m cradled against the steel strength of the pec-tacular chest I’ve come to love almost as much as the man himself. Being tiny in stature can sometimes drive a person to act more independent than they need to be – a sort of defense mechanism to make up for literal short-comings. Look, see, I am capable of reaching the top shelf in the supermarket, or replacing a lightbulb way above my head without your help. Being tiny doesn’t mean you’re helpless and sometimes I push that point a little too far – especially given how helpless I ended up in my last relationship.
Ash doesn’t make me feel helpless though. When he picks me up or grabs things that are out of reach for me, I don’t feel patronized; I feel precious, loved and cared for. I don’t feel my size; I just feel protected. Being cradled in his arms is one of my favorite places to exist…next to his warm skin…his beating heart…the musky man scent that drives me wild. A little sandalwood type aftershave, a little sweat and a lot of all-man smell that literally makes my mouth water.
Yeah, I’m not tired anymore.
I wiggle closer in his massive arms and bury my face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, running my nose delicately along the gently throbbing vein that pops to the surface whenever he gets aroused. Good to know I still affect him even in my state.
He chuckles deeply as my breath tickles the smooth skin of his throat.
“I thought you were tired, Sunshine.”
I shake my head, “not in the slightest, Cowboy.” I know what I want but his heavy sigh as we enter our bedroom tells me that I’m going to have to fight hard for it. My body might still hurt enough for prescribed painkillers, but there’s another part of me that aches for the feel of him and that pain is getting harder and harder to ignore. It’s as hard as Ash’s impressive erection that I have the pleasure of sliding down as I’m placed on the floor, face to face with my man and his strained expression.
I know what he’s going to say; I’m still too injured for us to have sex and he’d rather we both suffer a case of blue balls – blue ovaries? – then do me any more damage. I can’t cope with that rationale though. As previously mentioned, we both have ravenous sex drives and mine is goddam thirsty for a drink only Ash can provide. It’s not optional, I need this man inside me and I need it now.
Ash, on the other hand, is perfectly capable of being a martyr. He’s worried that, given how physical our lovemaking is, we’ll crack one of my broken ribs further. His concern gives him enough willpower to take a step back from me, creating an ungodly distance that has no right existing between us. With space comes the ability to think and speak and I don’t want that, I want to smother his senses until he’s consumed by me and loses control and gives me what we both want.
The problem is; Ash is dominant. Even when I think I’m in control, it’s because he’s letting me – he controls me having control. And in the bedroom, that works for us. It’s the one area of life that thrills me to submit. But submitting comes with its drawbacks…namely, not being able to make my fiancé fuck me when he’s made his mind up not to. Ash is dominant and stubborn and that combination means it’s unlikely that pushing him will yield positive results. It’s never been a problem before because the man is an insatiable sex beast who’s always ready to go. The lightest kiss has his cock engorged and making a break from his jeans. He tells me that’s just the effect I have on him, so he must be some sort of tantric master to be ignoring the beast in his pants begging for release. I can see the strain on his face, the tiny tense lines crinkling around his eyes, the tick of his locked jaw, the throbbing neck vein and his quickened, shallow breaths. He wants me, but he has the clarity and control to ignore it, which just fires up my determination all the more.
“Please,” I whisper beg.
“I can’t hurt you,” comes his gruff reply.
“You won’t.”
“Really?” he quirks an unbelieving brow. “You’re telling me that when I touch your delicious little body, you can keep from thrashing around?”
Lie. “Yes,” I squeak and I’m not even convincing to my own ears.
Ash chuckles darkly, takes a step towards me and lightly traces his fingers up both sides of my torso. Flames ignite in my skin as he touches my curves before cupping my breasts through my shirt. He takes their full weight in his hands and like the torturous devil he is, grazes his thumbs across the pointed nubs of my sensitive nipples. I buckle at the touch and wince at the sharp pinch and then bone-deep, dull ache of my damaged ribs.
“Didn’t think so,” the comment could almost be smug if not for the genuine disappointment in his chocolate eyes.
“There must be something we can do?” I’m outright begging/whining like a needy teenager.
“You mean a way to restrain you so that you can’t move? Sure, there is. But it’s whether or not you want that baby.”
I know instinctively what he’s getting at and I’m so on board with it. Nearly dying has flipped a switch in me also. No more half-living or being afraid of what I desire. To keep me still, Ash is going to need to restrain both my wrists and my ankles; a level of submission we’d not managed to reach before my attack. I’m changing that now because I want nothing more than for him to take total control of me. I was willing to submit totally the night of our fight when I ran off to Maddie after he dropped the ‘L’ bombshell for the first time and Maddie sent me back after giving me a verbal kick up the ass. But we didn’t do it and then David showed up and treated me to a stint on life support, so now I’m desperate to be Ash’s wholly and completely.
I’ve never been surer of anything.
“Yes. I want it.”
“You sure?” he stays unmoving.
“Yes, goddamit. Just take me already. Make me yours.”
Ash takes my face in his hands and kisses me like he did when he proposed: softly, deeply and lush enough that it curls my toes and makes my knees weak. His fingers drift south, unbuttoning my blouse while his lips work magic against mine.
He undresses us both deftly and pulls a pillow into the center of the bed before laying me delicately down so that the pillow sits in my lower back, tilting my hips upward and opening me up for him. Dragging his lips across my skin, lighting a fiery trail, he places my right arm above my head and to the side and k
isses his way to the tips of my fingers. Holding his weight above me, he reaches underneath the mattress for the restraints we had attached to our bed frame. I feel him buckle the soft cuff around my wrist before tightening the strap so that my arm is taut. He then kisses his way back down, across my chest, laving each nipple as he passes before kissing and nipping his way up my left arm. He repeats the process until both arms are stretched and secured, leaving my upper body useless and at his mercy, while he kisses his way back down to my chest. This time he swallows my nipples, sucking them between the sharp bite of his teeth and rolling them with the wet heat of his tongue.
As I still have too much leeway to wriggle, the assault on my breasts is short, sharp and sweet before he moves south, gently caressing my now yellowish-green bruises and nibbling the sensitive skin of my hips. He avoids my pussy completely, knowing that I’d never be able to be still enough during that level of pleasure until my legs are tied. Ash kisses down my thigh, the crook of my knee, my calf, ankle, instep and finally my toes. He flashes me a devastating smile that makes my heart thump heavily in my chest and gives me a moment to stop him before he cuffs my ankle.
As if.
Before he tightens the strap, he reaches both hands up to my hips and pulls me higher onto the pillow, angling me perfectly for him and ensuring there’s no give what-so-ever in my arms. Kissing his way up my leg, he skirts around my core once again before ensuring my other leg receives the same loving attention.
Once all four cuffs are attached to my spread-eagled body and the straps tightened, he takes me by surprise and dives his tongue straight into the wet folds of my pussy, licking greedily up to my needy clit where he sucks hard and then detaches with a wet popping sound.
I cry out at the devastating pleasure, my nerve endings desperate from so many days without his intimate touch
“Just checkin’,” he chuckles.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cowboy,” I answer breathlessly. It’s true, I couldn’t flinch away from his touch or thrust towards him if I tried, which is the whole point. I can’t move to hurt myself in the throes of our passion.
“So beautiful, baby,” he gazes adoringly at my restrained, bruised body but I can see it in his eyes that he’s not just saying it. He means it; to him, I am beautiful. “I’m not going to blindfold you, baby, because I need to see your face, the pleasure and any pain you try to hide. If things start to hurt, you need to tell me. If you don’t, then I can’t trust that we can do this safely and it’ll be a long fuckin’ eight weeks until you get the all-clear from the doc. I mean it, Sunshine; I won’t make love to you during that time at all if you try to conceal any pain that you feel. Do you understand me?”
Oh, I love authoritative Ash.
“Yes Sir,” I purr in needy desperation.
He chuckles as he reaches for something from the nightstand. “There’s no need to be callin’ me ‘Sir’. God-of-sex or Master-of-orgasms will suffice.” The humor in his eyes warms me from the inside out. Were my hands-free, I’d still swat him for his sass, mind you.
“Those titles need to be earned, Master. So far, I’m orgasm-less. My sex god is slacking.”
“Is that so?” he quirks that sexy eyebrow at me again and produces our favorite red, satin ribbon from the palm of his hand, dangling it between his thumb and forefinger.
Color me intrigued.
What follows is nothing short of the most exquisite torture as he trails that silken ribbon across every inch of my body with feather-like finesse. The flower orgasm scene in 40 Days and 40 Nights…that’s totally me right now. I never understood that scene and used to think it was just exaggerated Hollywood bull, but being restrained heightens other senses. It forces you to feel everything. You can’t escape the pleasure; you’re literally at the mercy of sensation and the sensation of satin tickling skin? It’s fucking epic. Sometimes, Ash just trails it along every secret sensual spot I have and other times, he pulls it tight between his hands and whips it gently, flogger style, on my nipples and a few times on my clit. I’m not too much into pleasure/pain but the tiny bite of the ribbon hitting me intimately has me pulling on my restraints, gasping his name and rolling my eyes in sheer bliss. I’m balancing so close to the edge that when Ash whips the ribbon on my nipples and flicks my clit with his tongue at the same time, I fall over it and splinter into a thousand brightly lit pieces.
I scream my pleasure and fight to keep my muscles relaxed – I don’t want him stopping because he thinks I’m pulling too hard on the restraints. Relaxing my core muscles has the added bonus of prolonging my orgasm…a fact I’m immeasurably thankful for.
With a devilish smirk, Ash crawls up my body, kisses me and bites my bottom lip as he sits upon his knees and lines his magnificent cock up with my now sopping wet pussy.
He winks before inserting only his tip inside me and I realize that the torture is going to a whole new level…and there’s fuck all I can do about it. I can’t thrust my hips forward to drive him deeper. I just have to lay there, begging for more of his steel shaft. And that’s what drives me wild about submitting. Surrendering yourself to a man who gives a shit about your pleasure and no longer having to chase your own climax because your partner has you and can drive you towards the peak you’re desperate for. To me, that’s fucking ecstasy.
I claw at the cuffs, frantic with need and Ash just pulls out.
He. Pulls. Out.
I cry with frustration and he takes pity, lining himself up again. His muscles tense and I brace myself for the punishing nine-inch onslaught of his thick cock. I’m ready for it, eager for it, even in my broken state I’m desperate for it. What I’m not prepared for is the slow, gentle, heart-wrenching lovemaking he gives me when he slides inside with painstaking care and slowness. Once he’s seated fully inside me, I expect him to move. He doesn’t. He just holds himself there, hips flexing minutely, molten chocolate eyes locked with mine. Reading me for any signs of distress or pain. This is anything but the hard, fast and dirty sex that Ash and I like so much, yet it’s more. More because he touches me deeply, physically and emotionally, while taking care of my body in every way it needs. He’s seated so far inside me that the gentlest rock of his hips nudges me in all the right places. I can feel him everywhere; feel how much of him impales me, radiating white-hot pleasure like an uncontrollable wildfire. The overwhelming nature of the man I love and his mammoth cock rubbing my G-spot over and over pushes me back into the throes of euphoria. I’m blinded by it and shuddering around his throbbing cock.
My body still shakes when I open my mouth to speak with a trembling voice.
“I’ve stopped taking my pill,” his eyes go wide in recognition of what I’m saying. I’ve not taken my daily contraceptive since the day before my attack. I forgot that morning because of the argument we had and then David put me in the hospital where no one thought to administer something while I was on life support – probably wasn’t a priority for the medical team trying to save my life – and then Ash mentioned having kids so I just didn’t bother taking any more. If anything can make him lose his carefully constructed cool, it will be the knowledge that he could be impregnating me at this very moment.
“Fill me up, make a baby with me,” I gasp.
“Holy fuck,” he grunts, his eyes laser-focused on mine. “That’s so fuckin’ hot. Skin on skin, no barriers or protection against my cum fillin’ your sweet cunt, markin’ you as mine and makin’ our baby.”
“Yes! Oh, God…yes,” his dirty talking mouth has me poised on the edge, quivering and needy as he loses control and spills himself inside me. Thick ropes of white-hot cum jet into me, coating me deeply as he roars his release. The feeling of his pulsing cock spurting deep inside sends me spiraling into the abyss of pleasure once more.
Once our orgasms subside, Ash unties my shaking body, massages the blood back into my taut limbs and pulls me into his chest, little spoon style with my back to the broad expanse of his chest.
“I love you, Katie Morgan
,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my ear.
“Katie Scott,” I correct, trying his name on for size.
At that, he rolls me to face him, the swirling chocolate of his eyes searing themselves into my soul. “Sounds fuckin’ perfect, Sunshine.”
He swallows my I love you with his lips and tongue and a thoroughly indecent kiss, which may or may not lead to being restrained and at the mercy of his insatiable cock for several more hours…not that I’m complaining. The future Mrs. Scott is one satisfied lady.
Epilogue
Katie
It takes longer than it should for my body to recover from David Marks’ attack, thanks in large part to the insatiable sexual appetites of myself and my fiancé – I love saying that – Asher Scott.
Try as we might to be gentle, it was never going to last for the eight or so weeks it takes for bones to heal. Inevitably, we got carried away, but that’s half the fun of being newly engaged.
A few folks around town assumed that Ash and I would have a long engagement considering how quickly we got engaged…those people obviously don’t know us very well. Taking things slow isn’t our M.O. I’m not sure we’d know how to.
However, we’re not swift and stupid people. We’re sure in our decisions and then we execute them, as we are both far too aware that life may not be there tomorrow, so why on earth would we put off what we desire when there are no guarantees in life? David Marks was very nearly successful in stealing our future and we’re not waiting around for an arbitrary amount of time that society thinks is acceptable, before we take our vows and become Mr. and Mrs. Scott.