Yes, Justin (7 page)

She arranged herself on the coverlet. He hadn’t asked her to clear away the bedding. The soft down conformed to her shape, cradling her even as it increased the intensity of the heat radiating from her entire backside. She scooted so that her pussy was close to the edge of the bed. Justin would want complete access.

He followed a short time later. He’d removed his shirt before he whipped her, and his skin glowed softly from the exertion. She watched as he finished undressing, folded his jeans, and placed them on the dresser. His boxers and socks followed.

Trish admired the way his hard cock jutted from his body, curving just enough to always reach her G-spot. He closed the distance, moving to stand where he had an unobstructed view of her pussy.

Her shoulders hurt a bit from having put so much of her weight on them when she had been on the cross, so she folded her hands over her abdomen. It also served to hide the roundness and stretch marks.

Justin lifted a brow at her position. “My shoulders are sore,” she said. Her insecurities lay just behind her explanation. “I’d rather not lift my arms just yet.”

“Then you may put them by your sides. Don’t hide what’s mine from me.”

She obeyed. At least she was on her back. That helped a bit, though it did nothing to keep her breasts from sliding sideways. Glancing up at Justin made all those self-deprecating thoughts flee. The smoldering look in his light blue eyes showed a man who liked what he saw. She didn’t know how, but his cock grew even harder.

Roughly, he grasped her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the bed. Her feet fell over the side, and her bottom half dangled from the bed. He pushed her knees farther apart, lined his cockhead up with her entrance, and sank into her welcoming wetness.

Trish couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked her. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d gazed at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. She gasped at the fullness, loving the way he fit perfectly inside her body.

He thrust his hips, fucking her fast and hard. With each thrust he bumped against her sore clit. It hurt, and it felt good, and she struggled to adjust to the contradictory sensory information. Just when she acclimated to his frenzied pace, he stopped, withdrew, and wiped himself off with a wet cloth.

Trish waited on the bed, not moving from the way he left her, because she had no idea what he planned.

“Get on your knees.”

She scrambled to obey, dropping down onto the hardwood floor and kneeling with her knees spread wide. She clasped her hands behind her back. The position thrust her breasts forward.

Justin stood before her, the purpled head of his cock inches from her lips. “Open your mouth. I want you to take me slowly.”

She always liked giving head to Justin. The texture of his silky-smooth penis and the salty taste of his semen combined in her mouth to make her feel possessed. Submissive. Yes, she had been yearning for this feeling the whole time. She had just lacked the experience to know the extent of what she wanted.

She licked him and barely refrained from asking to use her hands. If he wanted her to, he would ask. He knew her skill set.

He eased just the head past her lips. She sucked and swirled her tongue around to lap up the tiny beads of precum. As he worked himself deeper, she relaxed her jaw and tilted her head a bit. He liked to fuck her mouth. He liked when she remained still and let him thrust at his own pace.

She sucked to the rhythm he set and drew her tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock. He sank into her farther than he’d ever tried before.

“Swallow, Trish. I want you to take all of me.”

On his next thrust, she did as he commanded. His cock pressed into the sensitive tissues in the back of her throat, bringing tears to her eyes, but his moan and the shudder of pleasure that ran through him made the discomfort completely worth it.

He thrust several more times and withdrew just when she became used to the rhythm of his deep thrusts. She sat back on her heels and guessed at the game he played.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the dresser, he took a drink and handed it to her. Suddenly aware of her thirst, she gulped the rest of it and handed the empty bottle back to Justin. His carefully neutral expression and the light glinting from his hot eyes unnerved her. She fidgeted under his perusal.

“Sit still, Trish. You’ll have an orgasm when I give you one, not sooner. Misbehaving will only get you into trouble.”

Her chin came up. Had whipping her been a punishment, or was the way he played with her now a punishment?

He chuckled softly and set the empty bottle on the dresser. “Relax, Trish. I’ll always let you know when I’m punishing you. Like now. Cup your breasts. Lift them for me.”

She did as he asked, and he dropped to his knees in front of her. She didn’t expect a kiss, but he grasped her head and held her still while he plundered her mouth. Moisture dripped from her pussy, running down her thighs in a silent plea.

When he ended the kiss and settled back, she noticed the delicate chain in his hand. Nipple clamps. Damn. They were still sore from earlier.

Dipping his head, he took one nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard and rolled the little nubs against his teeth. She cried out, but he didn’t stop. A vise clamped around her breast, and it took her a moment to realize she squeezed her own flesh in her hands.

The sharp pulls of pain radiated through her body, mingling with the feeling of fire that covered her back, thighs, and ass. He thrust two fingers into her wetness, and she struggled to remain upright against the push and pull of the different pressures he exerted on her.

His talented, knowing fingers found her sweet spot immediately. He switched nipples, torturing the other while he drove her to the brink of madness. One more thrust.

“Please don’t stop.”

She begged, but he had withdrawn again.

“Punishment, my love. No orgasms for bad slaves.”

She whimpered in protest. “You’re going to kill me with wanting.”

In response, he pulled her nipples, stretching them until she cried out. He didn’t bother to show her the simple clamps he’d used last time. He just slipped them on and tightened them down. He didn’t make them as tight as last time, but she was much more sensitive now, so that much pressure would be too much stimulation.

He stepped back and watched her face, looking for something. She peered back at him, waiting expectantly. Despite what he said about no orgasms, she didn’t really think he’d leave her hanging. They’d come a long way toward reconnecting today. They couldn’t sustain that momentum without multiple orgasms. He’d already delivered several, and Trish knew this was only the beginning. The gleam in Justin’s expressive blue eyes told her that he’d developed a taste for domination.

He pushed to his feet, his knee crackling as he stood. “Crawl to the bed and bend over the side.”

She didn’t like that order, but she complied without arguing or asking after his knee. Bent over, her tender breasts pressing into the mattress, she waited for her master to decide her next sensation. With an impatient nudge, he kicked her feet apart.

“Don’t move, Trish. Not one inch.” He reached between her legs, parting her swollen slit. He massaged her pussy with her own cream.

Trish writhed, and a stinging swat landed on her ass. Sweet pain radiated from the contact. She jumped and cried out, involuntarily trying to escape.

“Mine, Trish. You belong to me. You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll be still when I tell you to be still.” Justin rained blows on her ass, spreading them evenly over both cheeks. Tears came to her eyes, and she squirmed, unsure whether she wanted this much stimulation. She didn’t want to disappoint Justin. Her desperate, primal urge to please him couldn’t be denied.

All of a sudden, the sensations converged, blooming into a pleasure unlike anything she’d experienced. Urgency turned to patience. Peace and the largest orgasm in existence loomed within her reach. She moaned and relaxed into his punishment. “Yes, Justin. Yes. Please don’t stop.”

He stopped. She whimpered in protest, but she didn’t voice her displeasure. “Punishment is over, my lovely slave.” His cockhead eased into her pussy opening. His fingers pulled her ponytail from where he’d tucked it under the last loop of elastic. He wound her hair around his hand and pulled her head back.

For the first time, Trish noticed the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall next to the bed. Her flushed face stared, wide-eyed with wonder, from the reflection. Behind her, Justin, equally flushed, wore a look of triumphant determination that made her melt all over again, just as she had the first time she ever saw him all those years ago.

With a roar, he buried himself in her channel. She watched, fascinated, as he thrust into her. For a minute, she felt detached from her body. The wanton, well-loved woman in the mirror was a stranger. The man pounding his cock into her looked like the man she’d spent the better part of her life fantasizing about.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.” His mantra reached her ears. He claimed her. He owned her, body and soul. Nothing desperate or uncertain remained. For the rest of their lives, they would be together.

“Yes,” she said as she jolted back into her body. Heat, molten and hard, made her muscles into a quivering mass. She had no control over any part of her body. Giving in, she put all of her trust in her husband.

Justin reached around and removed each nipple clamp, one right after the other, giving her no time to acclimate. Trish gasped as fire raced to her nipples. Justin only thrust faster. He gripped her hair tighter and pulled harder. She couldn’t hold off the orgasm. He’d said punishment was over. In a molten torrent, she came hard. Her pussy contracted, sucking him deeper and laying claim to him the way he claimed her. The waves of lava washing over her body went on and on. The keening cry issuing from the depths of her lungs followed the waves.

He thrust twice more and followed her over the precipice.

Trish lay trapped beneath his weight and made no effort to move him. She didn’t want any space separating her from the love she thought she’d lost. Tears gathered in her eyes, a reaction to the preciousness of their love and the terror she had carried for so long but refused to acknowledge. She hadn’t wanted to lose Justin. She hadn’t wanted to replace him. Terror and desperation had led her to contact Oasis.

She wept for what she’d nearly lost. She wept for the love she had almost betrayed.

Justin lifted his weight from her, his soft cock slipping from the channel he called home. He moved her to lie fully on the bed and folded her in his arms. “I’ve got you, honey. Let it out. Don’t keep it inside.”

She choked at his words. “I already cried.”

“You always used to cry after having a big orgasm. I hated it, but now I can appreciate what it really means.”

Trish struggled to control her sniffles as her tears tapered off. “What does it really mean?”

He pressed kisses to her eyelids and to the wet places on her cheeks. “It means you love the hell out of me and you feel both close to me and very vulnerable. It’s a precious gift, Trish. I’ll never take it for granted again.”

Vulnerable. Yes, she used to feel safe enough with Justin to not mind crying in front of him. When had she begun to hide her emotions? She clung to him until the trembling subsided, and then she fell asleep in the safety and comfort of his embrace.

She woke from her nap warm and sated. The scent of sex filled the room, reminding Trish of this new side of Justin. For the first time in her life, she thought of herself as Trish, not Patricia—her mother had been relentless in insisting on her full name. From the day she had met Justin, he had shortened her name.

At first, she hadn’t liked it. However, when faced with the prospect of alienating the single sexiest man she’d ever met, she had meekly accepted the moniker without correcting him. Over time, she had grown used to it, and now it felt like a punishment when he called her Patricia.

Justin’s chest pillowed her head, and her legs were twined with his. She lay listening to his even breath and enjoying the regular rise and fall of his chest. Before long, nature called. Slowly, she raised her head.

“Where are you going?” Justin’s voice didn’t sound as sleepy as it should have.

She looked up to find his steady gaze clear and blue, no hint of clouds. “Bathroom. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” He shifted, and she disentangled her legs from his. “I miss holding you like that. How about we shower together? That’s something we haven’t done in a while.”

“Yes, Justin.”

He sat up and grinned. “I like hearing you say that.”

Trish bowed her head proudly. She liked seeing his smile. Knowing she’d done something to bring him happiness made her feel almost giddy inside. She headed to the bathroom, and he joined her before too long.

The steady hiss of the shower spray filled the large bathroom. On the counter, Trish found her favorite brush among the bath products Justin had arranged on the counter. Oasis hadn’t let her bring many of her own things, but they were here. Justin’s thoughtfulness touched deep.

He’d always been thoughtful. Even though he hadn’t been home much since the kids had been born, he always remembered the little things. When their eldest daughter, Mikayla, expressed an interest in costume jewelry, he began bringing her eclectic pieces home from each trip. When the tin of chocolate in the freezer ran low, he filled it even though he didn’t care to eat it himself.

She had been so wrapped up in the problems in their marriage that she had let herself forget the things she loved about him in the first place. She needed to focus on appreciating what he did well and less on how he fell short. Justin seemed better at not holding her faults against her. She could learn from him.

Trish pulled out her ponytail and dragged the brush through the tangles. In the mirror, she watched Justin reach out to take the brush. “Let me.”

When they had first become intimate, he used to watch her brush her hair, but he’d never asked to do it. Surprised, she relinquished possession. After a few tentative strokes, he settled into a rhythm. He followed the glide of the brush through her hair, a soft caress that soothed her and made her feel cherished. When he finished, she melted back into his embrace.