Nature Of Desire: Worth The Wait Part 41

"As tempting as your mouth is right now, I'll take advantage of that later. You'll use that to slick me up right before I f.u.c.k your a.s.s. Every time I've tied you up and brought you to climax these past few weeks, I've thought about all the ways I want to use your body, love. It's a good thing you had that nap, but even after I tire you out, I'm going to f.u.c.k you in your sleep. I'm going to make sure you know you're mine no matter where you are."

It so matched what she had just thought, it raised the hair on her neck, but in a good way. Thank G.o.d, he finally fed his c.o.c.k into her c.u.n.t again, a slow, deep sinking until he adjusted to brace himself over her. His gaze raked her body, the way she was still holding her b.r.e.a.s.t.s on display for him. Her thighs trembled against his hips, her body held in an excruciating stasis for him.

"Tell me what you want, Julie."

"I want to put my arms and legs around you. I want to hold you so I can feel our hearts beat together. I need you so close. Please."

"All right. But you let me do the moving, like you're a puppet and I'm holding the strings. I'm going to tie you like that sometime, so you have to move with the pull of the ropes, letting me direct every movement."

"I'd love that." She could imagine that as one of the upcoming performances, except she didn't want him to do it with someone else. Maybe...maybe she'd do it with him. She didn't care who was watching.

He lifted her legs, directing her to clamp them around his bare hips and a.s.s. He bent and kissed the top of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, dipping his head enough to wrap his lips around each cherry-sized nipple in turn and indulge a suckling while she panted and her p.u.s.s.y squeezed down on him. She could feel the telltale quiver of his thighs, the tautness of his a.s.s, evidence of the restraint he was putting on his own desires.

Lifting his head, he took her right hand from her breast, kissed her palm and guided it to his side. Then the other one. He met her gaze.

"You can move and hold me however you like now," he said quietly. "I love you, Julie. No matter what. No matter how good or bad it gets, I love you."

"Same goes," she said, her voice shaking. She slid her arms up to his shoulders, tightened her legs around him as he pushed deep into her. She pressed her face into his neck, holding on as he began to thrust. So much control all these weeks, but suddenly, in the s.p.a.ce of an indrawn breath, it broke free. Her cry was as raw as Thomas's as Des pushed her legs higher up on his back so he could slam into her more forcefully, t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es slapping against her perineum, sending shock waves of pleasure through her. He gripped her a.s.s in both hands, shortening the thrusts to make them even more potent, rubbing against her insides, drawing her up the side of that cliff with him again.

He rolled them so she was straddling him and he was bringing her down on him with a hard hand on her hip and another tangled in her hair, his gaze all over the bouncing movement of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He reared up to capture a nipple in his teeth and bit, making her yelp at the pain but tangle her fingers in his hair to hold on, take it, take anything he needed to do to her. He rolled her to her back again and braced himself above her, slowing it down, then speeding it up. He was obviously taking full pleasure in being inside her once again as he drew closer and closer to release.

He was her anchor in a world that was spinning and quaking. He came down on her again, let her wrap her arms around him once more. It was as if he couldn't get enough of every position, every view. It told her he wasn't making empty threats about what the rest of her night was going to be like. But she was okay with that. With all of it.

She held onto him, spoke incoherent messages of love into his ear as their bodies rocked and moved together. He responded in kind, and she pressed her cheek against his face. "Des," she whispered. "Master. Please give all of yourself to me. Please."

He was close, she could tell he was, but she also sensed a struggle in him. This close, so open to one another, she understood. He was having to hurdle an obstacle that had come with the surgery, some wall of uncertainty about the strength of his body, the full recuperation of it. She could feel it in him now, that struggle, and she slid her hands down his back to grip his flexing b.u.t.tocks and gazed up at him.

"Master," she whispered again. "Please come for me. I need to feel you release inside me."

His brown eyes were fiery heat, and his lips stretched back in a snarl, a ripple going through his body as he finally let go. The climax was hard and long, a pulsing, heated wetness that sent her spiraling off into a jolting aftershock.

When they at last slowed, she was gasping and he had a satisfied set to his mouth. It filled her with antic.i.p.ation, and a contentment so deep she didn't ever want to leave this moment.

Almost. She wouldn't let him go, willing him to lay his full weight on her.

"I'm too heavy."

"Not for just a minute. Please."

He complied, though he propped his elbow by her head so she didn't have all of it. Though he was lean, he was a very solid one-seventy again, so she appreciated the consideration, despite perversely also wanting him so close he crushed her.

"Thank you. For all of it. And the thing with Marcus and Thomas. Why...?"

"Because I wanted to give you something." He spoke against her hair. "Something no one else could give you, to thank you for...everything. I didn't want to just f.u.c.k you like some kind of rabbit, this first time."

"I would have been totally fine with that. I was almost fine with it on the table in front of the whole family this afternoon. It was a close thing."

His lips pulled against her face in a smile. She closed her eyes, held him tighter. "But this was amazing. Do I need to thank Marcus too?"

"This was a Dom-to-Dom thing. The acceptable etiquette is to act like nothing happened, unless you and Thomas want to have some gushy sub-bonding over how wonderful your Masters are."

Julie chuckled, her muscles rippling along his c.o.c.k, still within her. "First, Thomas would agree with me that neither of you needs any more ego stroking. Second, I think that's more a girly thing. Thomas will probably be better if we don't talk about it. We never really talked much about the New York thing, either. It just was, a very nice was that needed no embellishment or a.n.a.lysis."

"Good decision." Des let out a contented sigh and rolled, taking her with him so she was spread out over his body, her thigh over his, arm over his chest, face against his neck.

She ran her fingers lightly down his side, to the upper rise of his firm b.u.t.tocks. "Did all these nicks and scars come from roofing? You're like a New York cab."

He gathered her to him. "Some of them. I was an adventurous kid, too."

She rested her hand on his chest, threading through his chest hair and moving up to trace his throat. He glanced down at her, c.o.c.king his head at her absorption. When she brought her hand up to his jaw, he met her with his hand palm to palm, fingers folding together. She loved him. So much.

"I love you, too," he said, and it didn't surprise her that he'd heard and answered what she'd said only in her heart. He touched her chin. "So you think a sliver of that no-sugar pie Elaine had us bring back to the house would be good right now?"

"You can't possibly be hungry. I should hate you."

"I bet I can talk you into some more of that homemade ice cream. I'll just spread a couple tablespoons on your p.u.s.s.y and have it that way, warming up everything I make cold."

"Well, if you put it that way, I could have a spoonful."

He grinned. "Then go get it, woman. Wait on me like a proper sub."

She snorted and tugged his chest hair. "If you think you found yourself a service sub, think again. I'm in this for the s.e.x."

He turned his head and nuzzled her neck, adjusting to his hip to push her back. He pinned her wrist to the bed as he kissed her throat and bit her. When he raised his head, his eyes were intent and sharp.

"Get your pretty a.s.s out of this bed and bring me what I told you to. Else you'll be very, very sorry."

Her pulse leaped at both tone and look, and she swallowed, a quiver running through her. Her lips parted, but before she could think of what to say his own quirked, his eyes gleaming.

"You've got some service sub to you, love. I can promise you that."

He put his mouth back on hers, silencing whatever indignant response she could have summoned, which she suspected wouldn't have been much, given all her brain cells had seized up at his command. When he finally lifted his head, though, she'd rallied.

"I've got some news for you," she said. "t.i.t for tat. You can say you don't care much about being called Master, or giving orders about touching or not touching, because you have your rope do all that for you. But you have quite a bit of that kind of Master in you when you want to use it."

"Well, you bring out the desire for variety in me." He nipped her ear. "We'll have a while to explore all the different things we can be for one another. Things neither one of us may have antic.i.p.ated."

"More than a while," she said, refusing to allow any fatalism to infiltrate this moment. "A lifetime." Sobering, she touched his face. "Say it for me. Please."

"A lifetime," he said, capturing the hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. When he lifted his head, she saw the hope for it in his own eyes, that hope reflected and feeding off hers. "A lifetime, and then some."

A delightful warmth spread through her. With a quick kiss and a provocative wriggle, she slipped out of bed, evading his grasp. Throwing a grin over her shoulder, she grabbed up a robe on the way to the door. "Our lifetime starts with a bowl of homemade vanilla ice cream and leftover pie. How can that not be a good sign?"

Epilogue.

Lila's second play was a hit. Even though a couple s.e.xually repressed critics panned it and another group tried to challenge their permitting, Madison had the continuing staunch support of the two county commissioners, one of whom was in the lifestyle himself. But ultimately, Wonder's success rested in the hands of word-to-mouth recommendations. Since those were overwhelmingly favorable, the naysayers couldn't pose a real threat.

Julie went to sleep exhausted in Des's arms but happy and content. Madison was already planning a couple more productions and an impressive schedule for next year. Julie had agreed to stay on as managing director and Madison was going to start paying Harris a modest salary from ticket sales.

"I'm taking you somewhere, love. Just keep dreaming."

She blinked, coming back to the surface and registering that it was between one and two in the morning. She was groggy but receptive to the kiss Des placed on her lips. No theater success was complete without being thoroughly ravished by one's Master, after all, and Des had seen to that with great detail, part of why she felt boneless and in a dreamy Elysian Fields as he bundled her up in a blanket and picked her up off his bed.

"Where are we going?" she mumbled.

"It's a surprise." He was taking her car, so he'd reclined the pa.s.senger seat. As she settled in, she noticed he'd put a tote in the back that looked like it had some snacks and a change of clothes for her, which was good, since she was naked under the blanket.

"Don't get stopped for speeding," she said.

"If I do, showing the cop what's under that blanket will get me off the hook."

She snuffled a laugh into the blanket. "Unless it's a girl cop."

"If it is, one of my most prurient fantasies could come to life." Tucking a bed pillow under her head, he kissed her before he circled around the front b.u.mper and took the wheel.

She fell back asleep easily and didn't wake until dawn. When she did, it was to the cry of seagulls. She opened her eyes to find she wasn't dreaming. They were at the ocean.

The car was parked and she was alone, the windows down so she could inhale the fresh sea air. When she pressed the lever on the seat so she could sit all the way up, she saw they were parked at a public beach access, where the low rise of dunes and gently waving sea oats gave her a panoramic and peaceful view of the ocean at sunrise. The sky was a mellow hue of rose-grey and pink, the sun close to making an appearance.

Des was close by, not a surprise since she knew he'd never leave her unguarded in the car. He was standing on the hard-packed sand closer to sh.o.r.e. His hands were tucked in his back pockets, hair fluttering over his shoulders as he contemplated the view.

She understood why he'd wanted to look at it by himself first. There'd been so much unsaid, when they'd talked about seagulls and a postcard from a mother he never knew. But she suspected he could stand some company now.

Deciding she didn't care about the clothes, since it appeared to be just them on the beach, she wrapped the blanket around her and left the car, trudging over the sandy path through the sea oats.

When she'd opened the car door he'd turned, warming her heart with his awareness of her. His brown gaze caressed her from mussed hair to her bare feet framed by the trailing blanket. Turning back to the view as she approached, he lifted his arm and she slid under it.

"Good morning," he said, gathering her close and kissing her forehead as she nuzzled his throat.

"Good morning. Where are we?"

"Cherry Grove. North Myrtle Beach."

"Like the postcard Christine left you."

"Yeah." He stroked her shoulder, pushing the blanket away enough to find skin and coil his fingers in her loose hair. "I was wondering if she stood at an access like this while she was pregnant with me. If she was thinking about what to do. Maybe she intended to drive home to Elaine, ask her for help, but she reached Charlotte and lost her nerve or something. Maybe she needed a fix and the city was just too tempting. Whatever."

He lifted a shoulder, banishing a darkness she suspected he hadn't intended to summon. She put her hand on his chest, tugged on his T-shirt.

"All that may be true. But when she stood here, maybe she thought about how it could be if she was different, if life was different. Maybe she had one pure moment, you know. I think everyone does that. No matter how many bad choices you make, there are these blinks in time where you wish you could be the kind of person you should be. Maybe she thought about being a good mom, about loving you. And if she did, that's good. That's cool. That one moment's enough. Right?"

He touched her face, his eyes caressing her. It made her want to hold him tighter. He made her knees weak, and she knew he'd make her feel that way now or in a hundred years. And he could make her laugh when her heart was breaking.

She opened the blanket, wrapping it around both of them as he held her and found her mouth, parting her lips and sliding in to stroke her tongue with his. As he became more demanding, his hands closed around her waist, sliding down to cup and fondle her a.s.s until she was pressing more insistently against him.

He broke the kiss, glancing ruefully at the rows of beach cottages that flanked the beach access and gave way to high rise timeshares and hotels. "Much as I'd love to take you right here on the sand, I think we might get busted. Want to sit and watch the sunrise?"

"I'd love that." She beamed up at him, reaching up with both hands to cup his face. He uttered an amused oath and grabbed for the blanket, salvaging her modesty.

"Woman, you have no shame."

"I trust you to take care of me."

His mouth firmed. "I will, you know. Even if I can't promise that you won't sometimes have to take care of me."

"Progress." She lowered her hands to his shoulders, fingers curling inside the neck of his T-shirt. "Taking care of each other is kind of the point. I want to take care of you. I want you to take care of me. I want to finally know what it is to love someone until the end of our time here on earth. To know what those old couples walking on the beach hand-in-hand know."

He brought her down to the sand with him, holding her cuddled up against his side so they could watch the sun start to break over the horizon. As it spilled the light of a new dawn upon them, Julie lifted her face to its warmth, even as she savored the feel of Des's warmth and life next to her.

She thought of sitting with her feet in the Hampton Inn pool. That hadn't been so long ago, but the paradigm shift since then made it feel like a lifetime. She was certain she'd found now what she'd hoped to find then, in the complex yet intriguingly simple man beside her. Even better, she thought he'd found it with her.

Glancing up at his profile, his absorption with the sunrise, she thought that type of gift made a change of heart possible. Des had said he'd embrace life for her, and she'd hold him to it, because she fully intended to live the entirety of hers with him.

For better or worse was beside the point. There was no worse, not as long as they lived that life together.

"You kidnapped me. You owe me breakfast," she whispered against his throat.

"I can think of a lot of things I'd like to do to you as my kidnap victim," he responded, his arm still around her. "Breakfast wasn't at the top of the list, but I'll feed you before I check us into a family-run cheap oceanfront hotel and have my way with you."

"Hmm. Will it have a pirate's lair kind of name, like the Porthole Pelican?"

"Absolutely. Or Bob's Beach Hut."

She grinned. "I want hash browns. And coffee to wake up."

"Baby, I have ways of waking you up that will put caffeine to shame."

He tugged her onto his lap then, finding his way under the blanket as she held onto it and him as much as she could, enjoying the sunrise, the gentle roar of the ocean, the touch of his hands and the promise of a new and glorious day.

A steady heat, holding fast for a lifetime against the coldness of the world.

She couldn't ask for more.

THE END.

Afterword.