The Lists

by Meka James

  “Fuck, baby. You’re so damned sexy.”

  My entire body reacted to his statement and the tendrils of desire intensified. Remaining in character became more difficult with each passing moment.

  I sauntered over to the bed. When I got close, Malcolm reached out for me. He was rewarded with another swat of his hand. “What did I say?”

  He inhaled sharply and gritted his teeth. “No hands. Mistress.”

  “I knew to be prepared for you to be a bad boy.”

  I leaned down and pulled free a purple silk scarf. One end had already been tied around the wood frame of our bed. The other end was attached to the D-ring of the Velcro cuffs that came with the restraint system I’d ordered. I had to improvise, because moving our California king mattress to permanently attach the “easy-to-install” straps wasn’t so easy for me.

  “Arm.”

  With a low grumble, he laid his arm to the side so I could secure his wrist. I moved to the other side of the bed, putting an extra swing in my hips, and repeated the action on his other one.

  I stood back and took in my handiwork, my husband, spread out and tied down at my mercy. My breath hitched. “What a magnificent sight.” I tilted my head. “Only one thing would make it better.”

  Being as seductive as I could, I climbed onto the bed. Malcolm opened and closed his hands around the restraints. He loved to touch me and my removing that had to be killing him. I let my hand trace the outline of his hardened dick. He groaned and lifted his hips against my touch. With a glance up at him, I licked my lips and let my fingers wrap around the waistband of his underwear. His thick cock sprang free and stood hard and proud. I tossed the silver underwear to the side and gave him a slow stroke. It twitched in my hand and my mouth watered in response.

  I’d never thought of a dick as beautiful, but as I stroked his, the soft skin a whispered caress beneath my touch, all I could think of was beauty. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

  He tugged at the silk, muscles taut, a low groan vibrating from his throat. A surge of power coursed through me. I could make him come undone. Weaken him in the same way he did me almost daily.

  The need to hear him beg rattled my brain and urged me on. One hand massaged his heavy balls, the other stroked him again before I flattened my tongue at the base and licked his length. My thumb circled the head, smearing the glistening liquid around the engorged tip, and I glanced at him, his mouth open, a slow rise and fall of his chest with eyes shut tight and a death grip on the fabric. An absolutely glorious sight. And I did that. I’d brought him to that point.

  A smile tugged at my lips and a sense of pride washed over me to see him like that. My mouth closed over the tip, my tongue slid across the slit. Salty and a little sweet, like saltwater taffy. The action drew a strangled groan. I took him in until it hit the back of my throat, breathing through my nose. I relaxed, which allowed me to take more. I let out a low moan.

  “Fuuucckk!” The word tore through the air and his hips shot up.

  I pulled back. Choking was not a good look. One hand worked in tandem with my mouth, the other continued to caress his balls. Each shift of my body reminded me of how turned on I got from pleasing him. Wetness soaked through the thin fabric of my thong and the pulsating between my legs beat in time with my heart. When his breathing turned into short pants I knew he was close.

  I stopped.

  Eyes wide, he lifted his head to look at me. “What? Baby!”

  I licked my lips and straddled him. “You didn’t think it’d be that quick, did you?”

  I continued to stroke his slickened cock. He let out a shaky breath, and the muscles in his arms tensed when I rubbed myself along it. A slow rub up and down; torment for both of us. The damp barrier between us increased the stimulation, and I wouldn’t last long, either. A low rumbling emitted through his parted lips.

  I wanted to kiss him, his mouth called out to me, but I knew I’d be lost. Instead, I maneuvered so I could remove my panties and bra.

  A slow nod of his head and another tug of the scarves. “Yeah, baby, come on and go for a ride.”

  His comment received another tsking sound. “Talking like that will get you left tied to the bed.” I was starting to get the hang of this in-charge thing—and I liked it.

  He tried to school his features, but I could see he was amused with my bossiness. “Sorry, Mistress.”

  “You need to show me just how sorry.” I crawled up so that his head was between my legs.

  His eyes widened and he gave an eager nod. No words needed, I leaned forward to hold onto the headboard, then lowered to his waiting mouth. The first flick of his tongue had me arching my back, and I spread my knees to give him more access. He responded by tilting his head up and went to task. Lips suckled my clit. His tongue moved in and out of my body with ease, slipping and caressing along the way.

  The soft scratch of his beard along my inner thighs while I rotated my hips, grinding and forcing closer—more—contact. Sweet mother of all things—oral wasn’t new, but at this angle—the way he turned and twisted his head, how his tongue seemed to go deeper—my body trembled. Whimpers turned screams poured from my lips. Even without the use of his hands, Malcolm worked me to the brink of ecstasy.

  I gripped the headboard and the tiny shockwaves turned into a full on earthquake. All thoughts were lost and my body short circuited, fizzling with pure electricity created from the man whose mouth hadn’t stopped moving. He tried to give chase when I lifted up, in desperate need for a slight reprieve. Pants and garbled pleas tumbled from my lips as the orgasm took control of my body. A warm stream of air caused me to shudder. Contact was gone, but Malcolm found a way to continue his glorious torment. Evident in the kisses and tender nips to the side of my shaky legs.

  Once I’d regained some control over myself, I slid down and propped up on his chest. His hazel eyes sparkled, and his resident smug expression was ever present on his face. “Did I please, Mistress?”

  Cocky bastard. No matter how hard I tried, there was no fighting the smile tugging at my lips. Though I wouldn’t inflate his ego by giving him the answer he already knew. I moved up and took the kiss I’d denied myself earlier. His tongue thrust forward and I suckled it shamelessly. My essence lingered between us, driving my passion higher.

  My pebbled nipples brushed against his chest, the contact minor but enough to heighten my aroused state. His cock twitched against my ass as a reminder of more to come. I broke from the kiss then rubbed my thumb across his lips.

  “Are you going to untie me now?”

  I looked back at his prominent erection and shook my head as I met his gaze again. “I’m not done yet.”

  A peck to his lips, followed by a nip to his chin, then a nibble on his neck as I worked my way down. The pad of my forefinger circled his nipple, and he hissed when my teeth lightly closed around the other. My nails tenderly scraped his chest as I continued my journey down.

  Malcolm lifted up to watch me when I took ahold of his cock. His hands tightened around the restraints. The rise and fall of his chest increased. My own breathing remained shaky and tiny aftershocks continued to tingle. With eyes on him, I let my tongue swirl around his swollen tip while I stroked his thick length, relishing in the feel of it pulsating in my hand—heavy and full. And mine. All mine.

  A possessiveness stole through me at the thought. He was mine as much as I was his. I wanted to make this last, but at the same time wanted the deep connection we shared during our lovemaking. I shifted and straddled him. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, and his eyes were fixated between my legs while I rubbed myself along his thickness. A short tease in an attempt to poorly satisfy my conflicting desires.

  My hand worked in sync with my movements. We both let out low moans, and Malcolm fell back against the pillows. My own pulse began to race, and I was in danger of making myself come again, but I wanted that next experience to be with my husband buried deep inside me.

  My joystick.

  A
smile broke free when those words tumbled through my mind. I positioned him at my opening and lowered down. The fullness was a welcomed guest, stretching me to capacity and flooding me with undeniable love and security. I stilled to enjoy the connection. My muscles clenched around him. The slight grip and release drew a low groan from powerful man, now at my mercy.

  I let my hands glide along his washboard abs then started to move. Slow.

  Malcolm raised his hips and pushed deeper into me. My eyes closed and we found our rhythm. An up followed by a down. An in, then an out. My hands rested on his chest. The constant thump, thump, thump beneath my touch—a steady calm that reverberated through me. Its beat timed with my shallow breaths.

  Our bodies moved in harmony with instinct and determination. A secret dance of knowing what came next, of what was needed to take the other to divine bliss. Tears prickled behind my eyes from the beauty of our connection. It was more than “just sex,” and in this moment, the words he spoke on his birthday slammed into me. Our every time together was special. Perfection.

  I braced my hands on his stomach and rolled my hips. Malcolm’s arms tensed and I heard a soft creak of the bed under the strain from the fabric he tugged. That glorious building started. Electric currents radiated under my skin with awareness. Each pump into my body pushed me closer. I rode him harder, faster, in desperation to reach the euphoric drop. A deep grunt in time with a forceful thrust upward told me my husband had met his end. My nails dug into his flesh as I squeezed my thighs, racing to join him in the glorious moment of release. To withhold nothing, to hand over all that I was to the man beneath me. My head fell back, and a scream ripped free when my orgasm roared through me.

  Breathing heavy and totally spent, I tumbled to the side. I fought back the tears burning behind my eyes. With shaking hands, I hastily released his arms, desperate to have them around me. As if he could sense my need, the moment they were free I found myself wrapped in his loving embrace. We were both quiet for a moment while we came down from our post-coital highs. My head rested against his chest, and I again let the rhythmic beating of his heart act as the soothing balm to my raw emotions.

  He kissed my forehead and whispered. “I love you.”

  I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled my body closer to his. My security. My oasis.

  “Love you more.”

  10

  Belated Gift

  Malcolm

  The delicious scent of beef stroganoff welcomed me soon as I opened the door. It was the last thing I’d expected after talking to Ginger while I was gone and hearing that she’d been sick. The news left me anxious since I had been unable to cut the trip short. Bigwigs from our international office were in town so I’d been forced to stay the whole week.

  Her assurances that it was no big deal and that her mother was helping out with Shawn did little to ease my mind. Crazy as it sounded, her being sick—or even mildly uncomfortable—sent my overprotective side into high gear. Logically, I knew it happened, and it was out of my control, but it didn’t change the fact I’d wanted to be home to take care of her. It was my job.

  To find her up and cooking dinner—my favorite dinner from the smell of things—was surprising to say the least. Her face lit up when she saw me. The look alone was an amazing welcome home. Rocking a pair of leggings and one of my sweatshirts, she was a stunning sight for sore eyes. Her complexion a little paler than usual, coupled with barely there dark circles under her eyes, otherwise she looked like her normal, happy and healthy self. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of there being something more.

  I strolled over and let my hand slide along her back as I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Hey, baby. Missed you. How you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  I scanned the area. Plates were on the counter ready to be filled, next to a tossed salad in a wooden bowl. I blinked at the sight of the pecan pie sitting atop the cooling rack.

  “Um, Ginger, what’s all this?”

  I didn’t want to go to worst-case scenario, but this screamed of a “butter-up” attempt. My gaze quickly darted over to the TV, not broken. My gaming headphones were up high and out of reach of tiny hands. Speaking of—I looked around and didn’t see him anywhere.

  The high ponytail she wore whipped to the side when she snapped her head and looked at me with a frown. “It’s called dinner.”

  A quick chuckle and nod to the obvious as I turned to rest back against the island and folded my arms across my chest. “I can see that, I’m just wondering why you’ve pulled out all the stops. Especially if you’re not feeling well. I don’t want to sound unappreciative of your culinary endeavor, but you should be resting. And speaking of rest, where is our bundle of energy?”

  I received a quick side glance while she stirred our dinner once more then turned off the burner. “I’ve done basically nothing all week. Told you on the phone it was nothing major. People get sick, Malcolm. Even me. And he’s with Mom. Because, like you, she thinks I needed rest.”

  The final part of her answer came complete with an eye roll and a bump of her hip to get me out of the way.

  I threw my hands up in surrender while I took a step back. “All right. What do you want me to do?”

  “Fill the glasses with ice and pull the tea from the fridge.”

  I maneuvered around her to wash my hands before completing my assigned task. We enjoyed a divine meal. Well, I enjoyed, she mostly picked at hers. I filled her in on my trip, time with my parents, and the reorganization of things at the company. She listened and happily shared the big news of the week: Shawn had managed to spend almost an entire day in underwear without an accident. Progress, since that kid had been resistant to potty training.

  After dinner she went off to take a bath while I did clean-up duty. The worry I’d tried to push away settled back in. She’d been moody—almost sad—each month when her period started. She played it off as PMS and such, but it felt like more.

  I’d been trying to figure out a way to bring up her maybe going back to Dr. Carr, in case whatever she was going through could be worked out better with her ex-therapist. I would rather be her first choice to confide in, but ego aside, I wanted my wife happy, however that needed to happen.

  Food put away, dishwasher running, I grabbed my suitcase from the hall and headed up to our room. The door leading into the bathroom was closed. I wheeled my luggage into the closet and parked it there; I could unpack later. I stripped down to my boxers and dropped my discarded clothes on top of the gray case.

  After settling on my side of the bed, I picked up my jar and smiled. Just a few pieces of paper remained. It’d been a damned good gift, one I hoped we could keep going, because there sure as hell were more than ten things I’d like to try out with my amazing wife.

  Ginger emerged from the master bath, and her appearance had me setting the jar back down and getting up from the bed. Her hair hung loose in soft curls as if she’d just done it while in there. A bit of red tint to her lips. And the outfit… Hot damn, the outfit. It was reminiscent of a vintage negligee. The top of the robe, see-through, which put her full breasts on display. Beneath them a pink bow, tied to the side, and the fabric changed from sheer to black satin and hung down to the floor. The two halves were trimmed in feathers that matched the cuffs of the long sleeves.

  I swallowed hard, at a complete loss of words.

  With slow, tentative steps, she approached me. “What do you think?” Her gaze dropped, and those red lips stretched into a wide grin. “You like?”

  “Like” didn’t even come close.

  I wanted her. I wanted her so bad it hurt already. Which made the fact I was about to tell her no harder than hell. She may not want to hear the “R” word again, but I needed to make certain she was at a hundred percent.

  “Baby, you look fucking fantastic.”

  She did a little turn at my compliment. “Good. I wasn’t sure and I needed it to be perfect.”

  I grabbed for her hand and pulled her
close. “You’re always perfect.”

  She rolled her eyes before stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss my chin. “You don’t have to suck up, you’re already getting laid.”

  My hands slid around her waist and down to her ass. Even if I wasn’t getting laid, didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna get a grab in. A mistake, as she wrapped her arms around my neck and went in for a kiss. Her tongue slipped into my mouth with no resistance. She tasted of mint and smelled of faint lavender. My cock throbbed between us and luckily she was the one to pull away.

  “Happy birthday,” she spoke against my lips.

  I leaned back to get a better look at her. My brows drew together. “Um, my birthday was like five months ago.”

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and stepped back. “Pull the bow.”

  Seeing her naked would do nothing for my resolve, but the look of delight on her face had my hand moving of its own accord. I gave a slight tug to the end and the two halves parted, not a lot, but enough for me to notice red peeking out. Slowly, I spread them apart. I could only stare at the two words written in red across her stomach.

  Hello, Daddy.

  My heart stopped. When I looked back up at her, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

  “Surprise,” she sang in an uncertain voice.

  My mind tried to play catch up. “I…” I blew out a breath. “I don’t understand. You’re on the pill.”

  “I might have stopped taking them right before your birthday.” A tear escaped down her cheek. Her features went from happy to worried. “I wanted to surprise you. I’m—”

  I cut off her words when my lips covered hers in a quick, hard kiss. She was pregnant. I wrapped my arms around her and crushed her body to mine.