by Force, Marie
“As real as it gets. You know how to say no. If I don’t hear the word, I expect you to follow my instructions.” I lean in close so I can see her green eyes, so different from what I’m used to but still my Nat. “To. The. Letter.”
She shakes her head and resumes giving me the cold shoulder as she stares out the window. In this case, silence is golden. She doesn’t say the word that would put a stop to my plans before they get started.
I flatten my palm over my coat pocket, where I’ve zipped the items I brought from my stash in New York. She has no idea what she’s in for on this flight.
He’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to have sex with him after finding out he went against my wishes and paid off my loans. I’m appreciative of his desire to care for me and take away my worries. He’s incredibly generous and thoughtful. But it worries me that he thinks it’s okay to do something I specifically asked him not to do—without even talking to me about it first.
That’s a dangerous precedent, even more so than his propensity for buying me extravagant gifts. I have to make him understand that I won’t put up with him disregarding my wishes on important matters. That’s not the kind of marriage I want to have. We’re capable of better than that.
I want two pillows propped under your hips so your luscious ass is the first thing I see when I walk in the door. Present that ass to me to do with as I please.
I want to growl from the frustration that accompanies the slow drumbeat of desire that has me shifting in my seat. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me with that text, which he obviously prepared in advance and then sent while we were in the middle of an argument. Does he think that scrambling my brain with sex will make me forget I’m annoyed with him?
Well, his plan is working, because rather than thinking about how angry I am, I’m thinking about my ass presented to him as his own personal plaything. I recall the times he’s touched me there and how much I loved it. I admit to being intensely curious about what he has planned.
We don’t say another word to each other as we cross the bridge into New Jersey and arrive at the airport a short time later. We’re loaded onto the plane with the usual efficiency, and greeted by yet another flight attendant who tries to pretend she’s not freaking out that Flynn Godfrey is on her plane.
With Fluff on my lap, I settle into the seat by the window so I can continue to watch the world go by while trying to figure out what to do about my current dilemma. Do I give him what he wants even after he directly went against my wishes? If I give in to him now, will that be rolling over? Or can I separate the sex from the larger life issue that now stands between us?
I’m extremely confused but also extremely turned on by the demand he has made of me via text message.
The flight attendant offers drinks, and Flynn requests Bloody Marys for both of us. I’ve never had one, but I’m willing to try one if it means I don’t have to speak to him to tell him I don’t want it. I want him to admit he was wrong to pay off those loans without talking to me about it first. After the drinks are served, the attendant tells us she’ll be back after takeoff to check on us.
I have to admit I like the taste of the spicy drink as well as the heat of the liquor as it travels through my veins.
As the plane races down the runway and soars into the sky, my heart begins to thud in my chest, again like a bass drumbeat that echoes in my ears and pulses in my throat. Every pleasure point in my body is on full alert, beating in sync with the drum. With the plane gaining altitude by the second, I’m running out of time. Any minute now, the seat belt sign will go off and I’ll have to either use my safe word or follow his orders.
The chime of the seat belt sign turning off ricochets through the cabin like a gunshot, startling me even though I knew it was imminent.
“Good afternoon from the cockpit, Mr. and Mrs. Godfrey, and welcome aboard. You’re now free to move around the cabin. We expect a relatively smooth ride but ask you to use caution as unexpected turbulence is always a possibility. For now, sit back, relax and enjoy our five-hour flight to Los Angeles.”
Decision time. As if there’d ever been a decision to make. I will submit to him sexually, but I’ll not be submissive in the rest of our life. If he won’t take my money, I’ll find a way to reimburse him the same way he went about paying off the loans in the first place—behind his back.
I can feel Flynn’s eyes on me, waiting to see what I’ll do.
I unbuckle my seat belt and move carefully to settle Fluff’s sleeping body in my seat. Without so much as a glance at my husband, I make my way to the back of the plane to follow his orders. I use the bathroom to freshen up before removing my clothes and crawling onto the bed, reaching for the pillows to position them under my hips.
Part of me can’t believe I’m doing this. A month ago, I was untouched by any man other than the one who attacked me so long ago. Now here I am, preparing to offer my ass to my husband. It’s surreal, to say the least.
I lean over the pillows, my legs parted to hold me up, my head resting against my forearms. I try not to think about what he’ll see when he comes into the room. Once again, the position coupled with the anticipation has the intended effect on me. My entire body is humming with desire.
Just as I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll make me wait as long as he did last night, the door opens.
My skin prickles as I imagine him looking at me laid out for him this way. I wonder what he’s thinking, if he’s pleased with what he sees. The door closes, and the snick of the lock sliding into place makes my heart pound. It’s the not knowing, the wondering, the speculating, the desperate desire that make me crazy. It’s a heady combination, as he well knows.
He doesn’t say a word, and if he’s doing anything, I can’t tell because he’s doing it in utter silence. The only sound is that of the low hum of the plane engines. My legs begin to tremble from the effort to hold myself up and open to his perusal. I know he’s looking. I can feel his eyes on me, which somehow makes this hotter than the hottest sex we’ve ever had, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
The scrape of his zipper breaks the silence and ramps up my already rapid heartbeat. Again the bass drumbeat thumps through me, awakening every part of my body in preparation for him.
By the time I feel air pass over me as he approaches, I’m ready to weep from the relief. Waiting for him to touch me, I break out in goose bumps all over.
My nipples are so tight, they ache, as does my clit, which throbs in time with the drumbeat. Even the soles of my feet are in on this, vibrating and tingling.
Oh God. Is that his tongue on my ass? Yes! Oh my God… I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t do anything but feel as he traces a path up one side and down the other. He touches me with nothing other than his tongue, which is more than enough to make me whimper from the need for more. I don’t even know what I need. I just need more.
Then his hands are on me, holding me open to his tongue. I can’t believe he is actually licking me there. And holy shit does it feel amazing. His tongue is everywhere, circling, delving, coaxing. I’m shaking like a tree in a storm, on the verge of begging him to do anything he can think of to me, as long as it slakes the desperate ache.
And then he’s gone, leaving me hanging on the precipice of something huge. I want to cry from the frustration, from being left unfulfilled and needy. I hear the click of a cap opening and the sound of something liquid. He knew what he was doing by putting me in this position so I won’t know what to expect next.
His finger presses against my back entrance, insistent and determined to breach the tight muscles.
My impulse is to fight back, to deny him, but he doesn’t take even a silent no for an answer. His finger slides in as far as it can go as my muscles tighten around it. Like the other times we’ve done this, I can’t deny the dark, forbidden thrill of it. Before him, before us, I wouldn’t have thought I could enjoy being touched or penetrated there. But enjoy is too tame a word for how it feels to allo
w him to take me there, to welcome it, to crave it.
He withdraws his finger, and I want to cry out from the loss, but I maintain my silence. Unless he speaks directly to me, I’m not to question him.
He’s back again, this time with two fingers, and the fit is decidedly tighter, less comfortable. The bite of pain causes my clit to throb, which surprises me. How can pain and pleasure coexist?
He strokes his fingers in and out.
I widen my legs and move my ass in time with his strokes. I begin to realize I could come from this and have to remind myself I’m not allowed to.
“Talk to me, Nat. How does it feel?”
“I’m not talking to you.”
He spanks my ass with his free hand—harder than he did last night. “What goes on out there does not come in here, you got me?”
“Yeah.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m still so angry with him.
“Yes, who?”
“Sir. Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t get sassy with me, Natalie, or I’ll have to spank this sexy ass until it’s so sore you won’t be able to sit for a week without remembering how it got so sore.”
I have so much I’d like to say to that, but I bite my tongue. I have a feeling I’ll be sore enough from the other things he has planned without adding that pain to the mix.
“Tell me what I’m doing to you right now.”
He wants me to say the words? Of course he does. “You’re putting your fingers in me.”
“Where am I putting them?”
“In my ass.”
“And what am I doing with them?”
“You’re stroking me.”
“What’s the word I would use?”
Though I’m not a prude about swearing, I’ve trained myself to avoid those words in my career as an elementary school teacher—training that is no longer necessary. “Fucking.”
“That’s right. Now say the whole thing.”
“You’re… You’re fucking my ass with your fingers.”
“Mmm,” he says, nibbling on my right ass cheek, “I love when you talk dirty to me.”
I roll my eyes, which of course he can’t see. I only talk dirty to him when he makes me.
He gets me to say the words, and then he’s gone again, leaving me trembling and weak with need. I’ve never felt quite so needy in my life. It’s the not knowing what to expect that has me right on the edge, ready to implode. I hear the click of the cap again and the squishy sound of liquid. What is he doing?
Then I feel pressure again, only this is something other than fingers. The pressure is intense.
“Push back, sweetheart.”
“W-what is it?”
“No questions, remember?”
I exhale before drawing in another deep breath, trying to breathe my way through the pain of my muscles fighting the intrusion. Whatever it is, it’s much bigger and wider than his fingers were. I’m not at all sure I can take it.
“That’s it, sweetheart, you’re doing great. This is the widest part now. You can do it.”
Wider? How is that possible? All of my focus and attention are on the tight stretch of my ass struggling to take the object, which is how he is able to catch me completely off guard when he chooses that moment to stroke my clit. Forgetting all about where we are, I scream from the bolt of pleasure that takes my mind off the intrusion in back and allows him to fully seat the object in my ass.
Oh. My. God. If he doesn’t let me come, right now, I’m going to lose my mind.
“You did so great, Nat. I wish you could see how amazing your ass looks stretched around the plug. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I feel the head of his penis pressing into me, and the fit is so tight because of the plug that I don’t think I can take him.
“Easy, sweetheart. You can do it. Relax and let me in.” He goes slowly, giving me small increments, stretching me beyond the point of pain and into a realm I never knew existed until he showed me how it could be. Then the object in my ass begins to vibrate, and I come undone.
Flynn is right there with me, driving into me hard and fast as I yield to him. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I give myself over to him completely. I’m his in every possible way, to do with as he pleases because I know that whatever pleases him will please me, too.
His hands slide under me to cup my breasts and tweak my nipples, and I can’t hold back any longer. The orgasm crashes over me like a huge wave, sucking me under and stealing the breath from my lungs as every part of my body reacts to the overwhelming release.
Flynn pinches my nipples again, triggering a second smaller orgasm, as he comes with a groan. The plug makes it so I feel everything so much more acutely, including the heat of his release that fills me deep inside. He comes down on me so his chest is pressed against my back, his hands still cupping my breasts.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to come.”
“I couldn’t help it.”
“You’re going to need to learn to help it.”
“How do I do that?”
“With practice. For now, you’ve earned a punishment.” His words, whispered close to my ear, make me tremble. He pulses inside me, reminding me he’s still there, as if I could forget. Raising himself up, he places his hands on my hips and withdraws from me slowly, tapping on the plug, which makes me gasp from the sensation that travels through me. “Your punishment will be keeping the plug in place until we get home to LA.”
“That’s hours from now!”
“Which will give you plenty of time to think about how you’ll better control yourself next time.” He removes the pillows from under my hips. “Turn over. I want to see your face.”
When I’m on my back looking up at him, he kisses me. His erection is already coming back to life between us. “That was so hot, sweetheart. I love your sweet ass. Did it feel good for you, too?”
“Again, you have to ask? The screaming orgasm wasn’t proof enough?”
“I like to hear the words.”
“I loved it.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Were you scared at all?”
“Not in the way that you mean. I was anxious because I didn’t know what to expect and couldn’t see what you were doing.”
“That’s part of it. Denying one sense heightens the others. Because blindfolding is a hard limit for you, the position today is a way around that. You can’t see me, but you’re not in the dark.”
“You’re very clever.”
“I’ve been practicing for years. I’ve learned a few tricks along the way.”
It pains me to think of him practicing with other women.
“What? Something just upset you.”
“It’s just the thought of you doing this with other women…” I close my fist and rest it on my breastbone. “Hurts right here, as unreasonable as that may be.”
“It’s not unreasonable. The thought of any other man touching you makes me crazy, so I get it. But you should know, every woman who came before you was the dress rehearsal for the main event. They were getting me ready for you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, but if we ever run into any of them, don’t tell me. I’m better off not being able to picture them.”
“I thought you knew everything about me before we met?”
It’s funny now that I thought I knew him so well before we met, when I knew only what was reported about him. The real man is so much more complex than even the paparazzi who stalk him relentlessly could ever begin to imagine. “I know about the famous ones. I’m sure there were legions of others.”
“Not legions…”
I poke his belly, making him grunt with laughter.
“You’re the only one who has truly mattered, Nat. You have to know that.”
“I do, but I never get tired of hearing it.”
“I’ll have to tell you more often, then.” He rubs his stomach and stretches. “I
don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Want to get up and eat and watch a movie?”
“How am I supposed to do all that with this thing in my butt?”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“When will I get used to it?”
“You earned this punishment fair and square, sweetheart. Don’t make me add to it by complaining about it.”
“I think it’s only fair that you should have to do this sometime so you know how it feels.”
“Nope.”
“That’s so hypocritical.”
“It’s not something that interests me. It is something that interests you. Thus there’s nothing hypocritical about it.”
“You were a lawyer in your past life, weren’t you?”
He gets out of bed and pulls a pair of gym shorts from his backpack. “Funny, my mother used to say the same thing when I would argue everything to death with her and my dad.”
“I can so picture that.”
“Come on, lazy girl. Time to get up and have dinner with your husband.” He disappears into the adjoining bathroom to wash up.
I move carefully, aware every second of the plug that’s lodged in my ass. At least it’s no longer vibrating. I’m thankful for small favors. In the bag I brought with me to New York, I find clean panties, a pair of sweats and a long-sleeve T-shirt that I put on without a bra. There is definitely something to be said for traveling in luxurious comfort. The cross-country flights are beginning to feel routine to me.
He comes out, and I take a turn in the bathroom. With my pants down, I turn to look in the mirror at the plug, which is red. The flat end is visible between my cheeks, and the sight of it there is oddly arousing.
I join Flynn in the salon, sitting slowly and gingerly. When I catch him smiling at me, I scowl in return, which only makes him laugh. I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny.
The flight attendant comes out with menus and wine lists for each of us.
“I’m in the mood for seafood and chardonnay,” he says after a quick perusal. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
I study the menu while the attendant waits to take my order. When I decide, I look up at her, but before I can give her my order, the words are stolen from my lips as the plug begins to vibrate again.