Taste Test

by Christine d'Abo

  I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, or when I thought it might occur, but I thought at least whatever it was, I wouldn’t have to wait too long.

  Friday night passed normally enough. We’d dropped the kids off at the bus to take them into the wilderness for the weekend, came home and watched TV, and had sex before going to bed. Nothing crazy. He didn’t tie me up and flog me. We had normal, comfortable sex. I came twice that night, but somehow I was still disappointed. Not that I told him that. I did come twice after all.

  He disappeared early on Saturday morning. We normally went to the market and picked up our meat and veggies for the week. Sometimes, I’d get a box full of apple fritters too.

  Left on my own, I puttered around the house, cleaning and making soup. I was just putting everything into containers to freeze when the garage door opened and closed. He came inside, arms full of bags.

  “Did you get anything good?” I returned my attention to the soup. “Any treats for me?”

  “Oh, one or two.”

  I wasn’t paying attention as he put the groceries away. I don’t even remember if we spoke at all, enjoying the unusual silence of our house. It wasn’t until a silver bag was set directly in front of me, covering my hands and the sealed soup container that I looked up at him.

  “What’s this?”

  He gently bit the side of my neck. “Your treat.”

  So it wasn’t apple fritters. I reached in and pulled out a stiff plastic package, a half naked woman on the front was suspended by her hands and her feet. Velcro restrains.

  Oh.

  He leaned in and nipped at my earlobe. “I want you to go upstairs right now and get naked. Stand at the foot of the bed.”

  Oh. Yes.

  I think I ran. I don’t remember exactly, but I’m certain I was naked in less than three seconds. The room was cold, making my nipples hard. Goosebumps covered my skin. I wasn’t nervous exactly, but the anticipation of not knowing what he planned was making me squirm. I settled for locking my hands behind my back and dropping my gaze to the floor. I was pretty sure that’s what submissives were supposed to do. At least in all the books I read.

  I’m not sure how much time passed before I finally heard his steps on the stairs. I didn’t dare look up, though I desperately wanted to see the look on his face when he came in. I was certain he would enjoy this as much as I knew I would. He loved taking control in the bedroom, flipping my body this way and that while we had sex, though this would be different than that.

  He stayed in the doorway and I could feel his gaze taking in my body. “There are a few things I think we need to talk about first.”

  My lips were dry, but I fought the urge to lick them. “Okay.”

  “I read the book. There’s a lot of stuff in there I’m not sure I’ll be comfortable with.” My disappointment probably showed on my face, because he quickly stepped up to my side. “I’m not ready for that yet. But I did make a list of a few things I think we could start with. If it works for both of us, then we’ll see where it leads.”

  I did look up then. My heart was pounding and I needed him to know how badly I wanted this. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  He cupped my cheek. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

  “That’s part of the point.”

  “When we got married I promised you I’d never do anything that would cause you pain. I’ll do this if it’s what you want, but there are lines I’m just not comfortable crossing. I love you too much for that.”

  “It’s no good if both of us aren’t into it.”

  It was his turn to grin. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy what I have in store for you. Just none of the crazy intense stuff. Not until we learn a bit more. Okay?”

  “Deal.”

  “Good.” I didn’t suspect the slap to my bare ass, and cried out even as the burn spread across my cheeks. “Now, face down on the bed.”

  The duvet cover was soft and quickly warmed by my body heat. I turned my face to watch him move about the room, securing the straps he’d bought to the legs of the bed. He tossed the loose ends up so they reached my body. I offered no resistance, smiling when he finally placed my wrists and ankles into the Velcro cuffs, securing me in place.

  I tested out the restrains, squirming this way and that. I really couldn’t move far at all and for a few seconds an overwhelming feeling of panic slammed into me. I couldn’t get away even if I wanted to. I was completely dependent on my husband to set me free.

  He sat down on the bed beside me and began to stroke my hair to calm my nerves. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I let out a shaky breath. “Now what?”

  “Are you comfortable? They’re not too tight, right?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Can’t get away?”

  “Nope.”

  “So if I do this, you just have to lie there and take it?”

  A gentle caress trailed down my back. I bucked my hips, trying to increase the force of the light touch, but to no avail. Before I could even get my mind around that sensation, he smacked something hard and fast against my ass, sending a sting through my body and into my pussy. I groaned, enjoying the contrast. “What is that?”

  He dangled the plastic spaghetti claw in front of my face. “We’ll buy a new one.”

  Damn right we were. That wasn’t leaving this bedroom. “Again, please.”

  Without warning, he pushed two fingers into my pussy, pumping me as he spanked my ass with the claw. The burning was offset by surges of pleasure that spread out from my cunt and into the rest of my body. I tried to buck my hips, pushing up into the slap, wanting to feel that sharp sting, surprised at how much I liked it.

  When things were about to get too intense, he pulled back, flipping the claw around and raking the points down my back. It was almost too gentle, too much of a contrast from the spanking. I didn’t know if I wanted to get closer to it or further away.

  We went on like that, mixing the sensations, gentle and hard, until my mind began to drift and all I could do was feel.

  The next time he pushed his fingers into my body, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back my orgasm. I groaned into the mattress and bucked in time with his fingers. He teased my clit with his thumb, pressing and grinding it until I lost control. I came with a scream, fucking myself back on his hand.

  My mind was still buzzing as he pulled away, moving to my feet to free them. My hands were left as they were, but now he was able to pull my hips up. With one smooth push, he buried his cock full inside me.

  “Oh fuck,” he muttered. His fingers dug into my hips and he held himself still. “Your muscles are freaking out in there.”

  I couldn’t formulate a response to that, so instead I pushed back against his cock, needing him to fuck me. He seemed to take the hint, increased his grip on me and slammed forward. With my arms spread out as they were, I my face was pushed into the mattress. There was nothing I could do to stop him from doing whatever he wanted with my body. I trusted him more than any other person in the world, and I knew he’d never betray that trust. I was owned, cherished, his.

  The dig of his nails in my hips was the only warning I got before he slammed hard into me and came. His guttural cry was a pleasure spike right through me, setting off another orgasm. I clung to the restraints and gasped for air against the fabric.

  I think I might have passed out. The next thing I knew I was wrapped up in his arms. My ass stung. Not too painful, though, and the rest of my body still tingled.

  “Hey.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “So that was fun.”

  “Oh yeah.” I snuggled in closer, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat against my ear. “Not bad for a first try.”

  His finger trailed down my back, stopping well short of my ass. “I didn’t hurt you too much did I?”

  “I’m good.” Nipping at his chest, I growled softly. “I liked it.”

  “I did too.”

  We’d been together long enough, I
knew he had something else he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to upset me. “What?”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What?”

  “Have you always wanted this? To be dominated?”

  It wasn’t as easy a question to answer as he probably assumed. “Not really. Maybe? It’s not something I thought about to be honest. But I always love it when you take control and get all bossy. I love the slaps to my ass when I’m doing something. Only recently did I think there might be something more to it than that. So, I started reading.”

  “Gotcha.” He scratched his nails along my arm. “Well, if you’re open to it, there are a few things that I might like to try.”

  A shiver of lust went straight through me. “I think you might be able to persuade me.”

  “Good, because the kids are gone for another day and a half and I have a list.”

  We managed to try out most of those things.

  The challenge has been keeping the kids from wondering what has happened to all of the kitchen utensils.

  Night Moves

  “No, no, no, no, NO!”

  I couldn’t tell you what the nightmare had been about specifically. Images of too tall walls and frantic running through black hallways were all that lingered as I blinked madly into the dark of our bedroom. The soft whooshing of the ceiling fan and the gentle rubbing of my husband’s hand against my back did little to slow my pounding heart. Stupid brain wouldn’t shut off.

  “You ‘kay, babe?”

  “Yeah.” I reached for the hair elastic on my night stand that I’d yanked from my hair before bedtime. I hastily threw my hair into a ponytail. “Just hot.”

  “Mmm.”

  The sheets had twisted around my legs and waist, cocooning me in place and sending my temperature soaring. It took longer than it should to kick myself free.

  “Fucking thing.” I flopped back against the bed and let my eyes fall shut.

  The moment sleep threatened to overtake me again, my heart began to pound once more and the images drifted back. Running, faster, faster, can’t get away. NO!

  “Baby, wake up.”

  I’m not sure I was even able to open my eyes at first. One moment I was running down a hallway and the next I found myself pressed hard against my husband’s chest.

  His fingers made their way into my hair, as he scratched my scalp as he made cooing noises. The terrified shudders eventually gave way to tingles of pleasure. I pressed my nose into his skin and pulled in a deep breath. His chest hair tickled my face even as his familiar scent steadied my nerves.

  “You okay now?” He pressed a kiss to my temple.

  I’ve never been one for bad dreams, not since early on in our relationship. I’d grown more confident in not only myself, but in us as a couple. Every challenge we’d faced, we’d pulled through and had come out the other side stronger than before. But recently with the threat of me losing my job and the daily stress of having two teenager girls in the house, I found that confidence slowly eroding.

  “I don’t know.” And didn’t that hurt to say, a whispered confession in the dark.

  “This about work?”

  “Maybe.” I snuggled in as he tightened his hold on me. “Too tired to talk.”

  “Hmmm.”

  The ceiling fan had begun to lull me back to sleep when he shifted in my arms. The press of his cock against my stomach wasn’t much of a surprise. I was practically naked in his arms. To hell with the time, that was pretty much the unwritten invitation to his body to wake up and take notice. Hello, horny man!

  He shifted back trying to put some distance between us. I could almost hear him justifying the move. It’s the middle of the night. She has to be up early for work. The dog might wake up and freak out. She won’t be into it.

  I’m not sure if it was my need to finally chase the nightmare away, or simply the appeal of sleepy sex that had me reaching for his cock. God, I loved that he slept naked.

  “Sorry.” He kissed the top of my head. “You don’t have to.”

  “Maybe I want to.”

  “Hon, you have work—”

  I tugged on his shaft, which shut him up instantly. My fingers were sticky from dried sweat, making it difficult for me to stroke him. I wasn’t in the mood for a blowjob, but a little oral lubrication would go a long way to make this pleasant for both of us. Pushing the sheet down the rest of the way, I shifted so I could suck his head into my mouth. The fingers still in my hair, clenched as I bobbed slowly up and down his cock.

  The taste of sweat and pre-come filled my mouth, making it water. There was no pressure to go fast, no worries of being interrupted. I took my time, savoring the sensations and enjoying his quiet groans and gasps.

  He tugged lightly on my hair. “C’mere.”

  I let his shaft go with a soft pop and climbed on top of him. As much as I normally loved the feeling of his body pressing mine into the mattress, tonight I needed to be the one in control. I pulled off my T-shirt, thankful for my lack of panties. Guiding his tip to my pussy, I sunk down onto his shaft in an easy move. The feeling of being filled, comforted me in a way that had nothing to do with the act and everything to do with the man below me. This was real. This connection, the two of us making love in the dark.

  With his hands on my hips, he let me set the pace. I hadn’t been aroused until I felt him squeeze me and mutter encouragement, then my body ignited. I needed to come, wanted to share the pleasure with him in this stolen moment.

  “Grind down on me. Yeah, like that. You’re so fucking hot.”

  He slid one hand from my hip to my breast, pinching and teasing my nipple. With each tweak it felt like a shot straight to my clit. The pressure built, but my sleepy body didn’t want to cooperate. Frustration was my old enemy, one I couldn’t easily do battle with tired.

  “Can’t.” I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Relax.” He shifted his other hand between my legs to press his thumb to my clit. “There’s no rush. That’s it.”

  My body did as he said, and the lingering blackness of my dreams finally dissipated. Keeping my in place, he sat up and latched on to my breast, his tongue picking up where his fingers left off. He kept the pace steady but slow, stoking my pleasure higher with every gentle swipe. He knew me, my body so well that even in the grip of sleep he could play me like a loving instrument.

  It was my turn to cling to him, digging my nails into his back as my orgasm burst from me. Pleasure rolled through my body, each wave growing stronger until it finally stopped with a shudder.

  Releasing my breast, he grabbed my hips once more and pounded up into me. I reached behind him to grab the headboard, needing the leverage to keep my body where he wanted it. My mouth was aligned with his ear, and I leaned in to suck on his lobe. I loved the sounds he made when I did that.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and dropped his forehead to my shoulder. Heat from his body made mine slick with sweat. Not that I cared.

  He latched onto my shoulder and groaned into my skin as he pumped his release into me. I held on as long as I could until I knew he was done and we could both fall back onto the mattress. We were sticky with sweat and come, our bodies glued together and to the sheets. It was wonderful.

  “Want me to get you a facecloth?” He pushed my hair from my face and kissed my mouth, my cheek. “Might help cool you down.”

  “No, that’s fine.”

  He got up anyway.

  The press of the cool cloth against my face and neck, the insides of my thighs and between my legs, soothed me. Like so many times before, when I needed him to, he was there taking care of me. When he crawled back in bed, I was maneuvered onto my side so he could spoon against my back.

  “Better?” His whispered words already betrayed his sleepiness.

  “Yup.”

  “No more bad dreams. We’ll figure this out too.”

  “I know.” I did know, but having his body wrapped around mine gave me the reassurance I
’d needed. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, sweetie. Now go to sleep so you’re not bitchy in the morning.”

  I lay awake in his arms for several more minutes until his soft snores vibrated against my neck. It would be okay. We would get through this the same way we got through everything in our lives. Letting out a soft huff, I tugged his arm a little closer against my chest, closed my eyes and went to sleep.

  The Undeciphered Heart

  Miranda raced down the darkened hallway as quickly as her skirts and exhaustion would allow. She knew her face was flushed, smudged with ink and dust, her eyes too bright as she’d ran from the basement War Room to arrive in an un-ladylike fashion. Harbacher waited in the foyer when she topped the stairway, the butler no doubt anticipating her spectacular arrival once word of their visitor’s arrival reached her.

  “Where is he?” She didn’t have time for pleasantries. “The Blue room?”

  “Yes, mum. The captain looked less than pleased.” Harbacher sniffed. “Shall I bring tea?”

  Blood pounded with an uneven gait in her ears as it raced through her body. For three days and nights she’d stood before the wall of barometric tubes, circuits and conduits in the War Room, consolidating dates and readings, measuring wind speeds and temperatures. Her hair had long discarded the elaborate coils and braids her maid had created. Since then hair pins had been shoved this way and that to keep the auburn locks from covering her eyes and distracting her as she shifted through the cipher.

  The pulling weight of the portable statistical computation device on her arm reminded her of its presence. She forcibly straightened her shoulders back to stop from slipping into the lop-sided droop her body naturally adopted. Strange. In her excitement at having finally broken the French code, and determining the perfect opportunity for an attack against their rising forces, Miranda had forgotten she wore it. The bloody thing was so much a part of her she’d long expected to be buried with it secured to her arm.

  While she might have wished for a looking glass, her appearance no longer mattered. It wasn’t as if she needed to impress him, the Captain of the Dead. He was here to receive his orders—she was to deliver them with brevity. There was no reason to adjust the neckline of her corset or card her fingers through the wild tangle of hair. Still, she released the bindings holding the device to her arm and handed it to Harbacher. The less machine-like she was, the easier it would be to remember her place and his.