Liberty (10 page)

“Give me your hand,” she ordered in a quiet voice as she lay back down. She locked her fingers with his, resting her face on their joined hands.

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

She looked at him as if he had three heads. “You never gave me one.”

Of course her husband never gave her one. He marked her body in a different way, a way that didn’t show love but brutal dominance. She deserved more than this. More than this little house, more than near poverty and a husband who hurt her. Every day he spent with her made him that much more sure he wasn’t her husband.

“How do people know you’re married if you don’t wear a ring?”

“Everybody knows I’m married. It’s you who should wear a ring. Maybe it will keep you faithful.”

There was anger in her voice mixed with sorrow. She had dealt with too much from Ryan Beecher. He didn’t know how she could hold her head up. But she did, and he admired her for it.

“Who is Glory Rodgers?”

“Your mistress.” She rolled her eyes. “Excuse me. Poor people don’t have mistresses. She’s your sl— Your girlfriend.”

“That proves it. I know I’m not your husband. Why would I mess around with her when being near you makes me hard enough to drill holes in steel?”

She locked eyes with him then looked away. “There was a time that I thought you were going to leave me for her.”

“You should have left him.” He bent down to kiss her mouth, feeling sad for her wasted life.

She kissed him back for a moment, then looked away. “I should have, but I didn’t realize that was an option for a long time. Besides, I would have missed this beautiful body if I had.” She gave him a shy look and gently touched his chest.

“Why did you stay? I’m serious. I want to know.” He studied her face and saw her walls begin to go up.

“I don’t want to talk about this now.”

“What do you want to do?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it and then opened it again, looking helpless.

“Tell me,” he urged.

“I’m not ready for it all yet.”

“Okay, then tell me what you are ready for.”

“I want to—to—” she pulled her lower lip between her teeth “—touch you. But I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Okay.” Before she could react he pulled the tie from her bathrobe, causing it to fall open. He tried to hold back a groan but barely managed it.

“Ryan!”

He greedily took in her body. He had never seen her without clothes before, and while he dreamed about seeing her naked since the day he woke up in the hospital the real vision was worth the wait. Her breasts were full and round with pretty chocolate-colored nipples that he longed to suck into his mouth. Her waist was small. Her hips flared out, looking like the perfect things to hold on to while burying himself deep inside her.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled off his shirt and settled on his back. “You’re going to have to tie me to the bed.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyes went wide.

“If you don’t want me to touch you then you’re going to have to tie me to the bed. I want you too much to keep my hands to myself.”

“Oh... Um... Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” Her face turned scarlet. “It was a dumb idea anyway.”

“No.” He tossed the tie to her. “Do it. It’s time for another lesson. You’re in charge.”

She looked adorably unsure for a moment. “Are you sure about this?”

“No, but if this is the only way I can have you, then this is the way I’ll take you.” He folded his hands together and rested them against the headboard. “I just have one request.”

She looked wary but nodded.

“Please take off your robe. I need to see all of your body.”

She looked away from him as she slipped it off her shoulders and sat back, allowing him to take in his fill. It was clear she was embarrassed by her nudity, but she made no move to cover herself.

“You’re so pretty, honey.” He reached out to touch the smooth expanse of skin that covered her chest but he remembered her request. “Tie me to the headboard, Lexy. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself.”

She climbed on top of him, her naked body straddling him, giving him an excellent view of her sex. She wasn’t totally bare there, not shaved bald like most women he had encountered and it caused his cock to throb painfully.

She was aroused. The smell of her moistening sex filled the room and it took everything in his power not to touch her. She made quick work of tying him to the bed and once she was done she sat on top of him, seeming as if she was at a loss.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I thought about you like this,” she admitted, her cheeks turning even redder than before.

“Yeah?” Her admission caused his chest to swell. “Tell me about it.”

She trailed her fingers across his scarred stomach. “It was when you were in the hospital and I was washing you.” She placed her lips where her fingers had been and delivered sweet wet pecks to his skin. “I don’t know what it was about knowing that you couldn’t hurt me that...”

“Turned you on?”

She looked up at him, her plump lower lip pulled between her teeth. “I think I’m sick. It’s not normal to think that way.”

“No.” He pulled against his restraints needing to comfort her, but he could go nowhere. “You are not sick. What we do is never wrong and who dictates what’s normal?”

She nodded and kissed him just above his belly button. Her kisses felt so innocent on his body he wanted to instruct her, tell her how to give them both pleasure, but he refrained. She was in charge.

She slid her body along his, bringing those beautiful breasts into contact with his chest. His nipples tightened with her touch. He hissed, involuntarily writhing beneath her so that her sex lined up with his.

She looked up at him wide-eyed, as if she hadn’t known that those two parts should come together but then she pushed back against him, her wetness rubbing against his jeans.

Take me out,
he wanted to beg. He wanted to slip inside her wet warmth so badly, but he knew it wasn’t time. He knew that for now it was his job to put up with this torture for her pleasure.

“It hurts there,” she whispered, setting a kiss on his jaw. “Why does it hurt there?”

“You’re aroused. That’s why you’re wet. Your body is preparing itself for sex. For me.”

She looked up at him, puzzled for moment. “But I don’t like sex. It hurts.”

“Aw, baby. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to make you feel good. When you’re ready I can show you.”

She mulled his words over for a moment before kissing him. She then lightly set her hands on his shoulders, still unsure of her every move. It was as if she hadn’t been married for the past ten years, as if she were new to loving. He would show her how good it could be. He met her gentle mouth with his own, matching her every stroke with a deeper one. He pulled her tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, mimicking the movements of sex, trying to explain to her without words how good it could be.

“We have to stop,” she whimpered. “It hurts too much.”

“No,” he said more forcefully than he intended. “I can show you how to make it feel better. Lexy, have you ever touched yourself?”

“What?” She looked horrified. “No, of course not.”

He smiled gently at her. “There’s nothing wrong with that, honey. Sit up. Let me show you how to make yourself feel good.”

She obeyed his directive, sliding herself upward until her legs were spread open across his stomach. He could see the wetness on her lips, could smell her sweet-scented arousal filling the room.

“The thing that throbs is called a clitoris or a clit. If you stroke it, it will make you feel good.”

She slowly moved her fingers to her clit and stroked once. She jumped at the contact.

“Again, sweetheart. I promise you it will feel good.”

She stroked again, her fingers moving in slow little circles. He wanted to put his mouth there to suck on her, to taste her arousal but right now he could only imagine it, only watch and dream of how good it would be when it happened. She finally relaxed, her eyes drifting shut, her mouth slightly open, the tip of her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips.

She moaned softly, taking to self-pleasure like it was natural. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He wouldn’t leave here until he had her, until she trusted him, until she knew that sex could be good and fun and addictive.

She opened her eyes and stared down at him. “I want to kiss you.”

“Kiss me. Place your body against mine and move against your hand.”

Her chest met his once again, their nipples touching. He groaned. She moved them against him, her eyes closing as she learned that she could receive pleasure from more than once part of her body.

“Lexy, kiss me. Move against me.”

She pulled his lower lip between her teeth, nipping it until he cried out. Then she licked it. Smoothing her pouty lips across the place she had bruised.

Her hand settled between her legs and he could feel her grinding against it. He could hear the wetness of her sex, feel the pressure from her hand as it bumped his too hard cock. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, wanting this experience to be over but at the same time never end. It was too much. Too erotic. Made that way because he could not touch her.

“What’s happening to me?” she cried out.

“You’re coming.”

As soon as the words left his mouth she shook as her first orgasm hit her hard. She cried out, her eyes filled with tears, but she kept moving against her fingers, riding wave after wave of aftershock until she was spent. She collapsed against his chest panting.

He could take no more.

“Untie me now,” he ordered.

She bolted upright, afraid to disobey. She pulled the tie loose and sat beside him, her body tense. She was bracing herself again but he didn’t touch her. He lay back on the bed, pulled his hard aching cock from his pants and fisted it.

“See what you do to me?” He watched her as she watched him in amazement as he pulled on his cock. “You make me hard. I go to bed like this every night. I wake up like this every morning. I spend every shower jerking off because I know I can’t have you yet.”

He stroked himself furiously. He had never been so aroused before. He had never been watched. He looked at her, imagining her tight wet folds surrounding him, squeezing him, milking his seed. He would kiss her breasts, and lick her mouth and finger her clit until she cried out his name. Fantasy became too much. He hissed as he balls drew up tight, preparing to explode.

“I want you, Alexa. Nothing will change that.”

He came hard, his hips leaving the bed as he spilled himself all over his hand. She watched in silent horror. Then she took her bathrobe and gently cleaned his hand. Her touch surprised him. He wasn’t sure how to react, but then she crawled into his arms and began to weep.

Maybe it had all been too much.

“Oh, Lexy. I’m so sorry, honey.”

“No!” She looked up horrified. “It’s just— It’s just... Thank you.”

* * *

Lexy wasn’t sure why she was crying. She wasn’t sad. Overwhelmed? Yes. Confused? More than she had ever been. Who was this man? Ryan never respected her wishes. He had never gone out of his way to see to her pleasure first. Her heart kept telling her that the man who was holding her while she cried was not the man she had married, but her brain was telling her something entirely different. Nobody could change that much.

He had to be Ryan Beecher, not because she wanted him to be, but because if he wasn’t, this kind man belonged to somebody else.

She needed to leave him. Forget her promise. God would understand. She couldn’t risk her sanity by staying here. She needed to make plans tonight.

The doorbell rang and she bolted from bed, throwing a tank top over her naked body and shorts over her hips.

He sat up, staring after her. “Where are you going?”

Away from you! “The door bell is ringing.”

“So? Lexy, please don’t do this. Please don’t shut yourself away from me.”

“I’m not. Somebody has to answer the door.”

Ryan followed her, buttoning his jeans as he went.

“You’re going to answer the door like that?” he called after her.

“Yes.”

She practically ran toward the door. Ryan was so intense and when she was alone with him she didn’t trust herself...or her body, to be more exact. It had been so long since she had been touched in a nice way that when Ryan did, she nearly lost her mind. Not nearly. She had. He hadn’t touched her at all and she still went insane. She had just experienced something with him that she hadn’t thought possible. It was sensual and scary and wonderful. And she wanted to do it again.

She reached the door prepared to open it, when he yelled, “You’re not wearing a bra and your shirt is see-through.”

She froze, turned around and looked down. Sure enough she could see her breasts straining against the cloth, her nipples erect little points still aroused from Ryan’s attention.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I did.”

He was looking at her, a knowing little smile curling his lips. She felt her insides melt. She had to leave him. The sooner the better.

She covered herself with her arms and glared at him.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

He gave her a soft peck and opened the door. She jumped behind him.

“Beecher?” A large, barrel-chested man stood at the door in full military uniform.

“Sir.” He saluted the man, only wearing blue jeans.

Lexy might have laughed if the man before them didn’t look like a bull ready to charge.

“At ease,” he barked. “You aren’t in the military anymore. You don’t have to do that.” He frowned deeply at Ryan and then spotted Lexy who was peeking at him from behind Ryan’s shoulder.

“Hello, Mrs. Beecher. I’m sorry to bother you this evening.” His face and voice softened. Apparently somebody taught him to be nice to women.

“No problem,” she squeaked, thoroughly embarrassed.

Ryan covered her hands with his. It was then she realized that she had wrapped her arms around his middle in a move to shield herself from their guest. That was odd for her. She never turned to her husband for protection. And today she did it without thinking.