As a special exclusive, here is the prologue and the first two chapters of my new release The Silk Tie - enjoy!
Prologue
Gabe
“Meet
for drinks at seven?” I asked down the line to Hayley. “The Golden Goose?”
“Perfect,
I should be finished in court by then.” There was a breathless quality to her
words and the tap of her stilettoes in one of London’s old courthouse corridors
told me she was walking.
I
glanced at the clock and drummed my pen on the black leather mat that sat on my
desk. “Me too. I’ve only got one more appointment and a closing to write.”
“It’s a
date then.”
I
smiled. “Hopefully a hot one.”
I ended
the call then slipped my phone into my breast pocket. A sudden steamy memory of
Hayley dressed in the sexy red underwear she’d bought the week before came back
to me. She’d been waiting behind the living room door when I’d arrived home
from the office at some ungodly hour, pounced on me and told me to close my
eyes. She’d then tugged my silk tie loose before she’d slipped it from my neck
and wrapped it around my head, covering my eyes.
“I’ve
bought you an anniversary present,” she’d whispered into my ear—her warm, sweet
breath had made me shiver with desire. “Use your hands to decide if you want to
open it.”
I’d set
about exploring my wife’s body, delighting in the delicate lace of the
underwear and every curve of her breasts, hips and waist.
Knock. Knock.
I was
brought back to the reality of my office by a couple of raps on the door.
Drawn
from my reminiscences, I shifted on my seat and hoped my semi wouldn’t turn
into a full-blown hard-on. That wouldn’t be good, not at work. Surely I had a
bit more control than that? I was a big boy—a senior partner at Gosford and
Bingley Law, for goodness sake.
“Come
in,” I called, knotting my fingers on the desk.
My
secretary, Ethel, peeked in. “Your four o’clock is here, Mr. Stone.”
“Okay,
give me a minute to finish this paperwork.”
“Of
course.” She nodded and her graying bun wobbled on the top of her head as she
shut the door.
Hayley’s
image still hung before me. The tie had only stayed over my eyes for thirty
seconds or so, then that and the new underwear had been discarded, as had my
suit trousers and boxers. I could picture her now, spread-eagled on the couch,
panting, flushed, arms outstretched. I’d kept my shirt on, and my suit jacket
for that matter. Time had been of the essence by that stage and besides, she
seemed to like it when I fucked her wearing half of my suit. It was as if the
sensible lawyer persona I’d carried all day had been peeled back to reveal the
beast beneath and only she got to see it—or so she’d once told me.
“Enough,
Gabe,” I muttered, having to actually press on my groin to prevent my cock from
hardening further.
Think of something else. Something that
won’t turn you on.
My four
o’clock client was a divorcee, his wife of eight years trying to take him for
every penny. I felt sorry for him. He’d been a good husband from what I could
gather, provided well for her and allowed her to give up work to pursue an
expensive hobby in horse breeding.
She’d
had an affair, though had denied it until a private detective produced
photographic evidence. But she was claiming all kinds of emotional abuse and
infidelity on his behalf in an attempt to keep the house, the stables, horses
and a large portion of his company and pensions.
Personally,
I couldn’t see why she’d needed to go elsewhere in the first place. She’d been
living in the lap of luxury. Plus, Brent Dawson, her now-estranged husband, was
a great-looking bloke, and if I were honest, out of her league. She had an
overly fussy style; stiff hair, too much makeup, tight clothes, and nails like
talons. Plus, from what I’d seen of her she never seemed to smile. Not like
Hayley, who could smile even when she was exhausted and under pressure. Hayley
always had a lightness to her face, a sparkle in her eyes and a tilt to her
lips.
God, I
loved her.
I
wondered if she’d be totally bad again on our “date” later. The Golden Goose
was notoriously crowded early evening. Set in Tudor Street, it attracted
journalist types and the law crowd. When we’d met there last, she’d kissed me
hello then set about texting. I’d been put out that I didn’t have her undivided
attention until my phone beeped and a message from her read: I’m not wearing knickers.
I’d
swept my gaze over her smart, navy work suit. Her tight pencil skirt had indeed
appeared incredibly smooth, but then it always did. We’d found a corner seat,
and while sipping our drinks, under the cover of the table she’d slid my hand
up her skirt to her bare pussy and let me feel how wet she was for me. She told
me that she’d been thinking of our last holiday at Christmas to Switzerland and
couldn’t get the longing for another bondage session out of her mind.
Damn
it. Now I did have a hard-on. Fuck.
I
glanced at the clock again. I couldn’t keep Brent Dawson waiting. And certainly
not with the excuse I had an erection because I couldn’t stop thinking about
tying up my wife later. Certainly not when he didn’t have a wife to go home to
and fuck anymore.
Poor
bugger. He was having a really shit time of it. We’d become friends. A few
times he’d stayed over his consultation time and we’d shared a Scotch and
talked things through. I hadn’t added it to his bill, I was happy to do it.
He’d lost his mother when the whole thing had blown up, so he was also sorting
out estate matters and grieving. Not fun in any situation—worse when your wife had
pulled the wool over your eyes for months.
I
stood, walked stiffly to my cabinet then poured a glass of water. I took a long
drink and concentrated on Brent’s case rather than the man himself. It was
complex, his assets were numerous, and although mainly protected I had to play
it clever to ensure he came out with what was rightfully his. Though if I had
time there was one delicate matter that I needed to air with him. I couldn’t
put it off any longer. And I had to admit, since I’d found out about the accusation,
I was also pretty intrigued. It had played on my mind at night—Brent doing that; being a man who enjoyed that.
Why,
though? I was married, to a beautiful, sexy woman. Why did these new thoughts
about him keep swirling in my head?
I
should be thinking of only Hayley.
Another
rush of heat went to my cock.
No, don’t think of her. Not for an hour at
least.
Again
there was a knock on my office door.
I sat
and placed my water on my desk, atop a coaster with a picture of a gold crown.
“Come in.”
The
door opened and Brent Dawson strode into the office. He wore a black suit of an
exquisite cut—no doubt Savile Row—and a deep purple tie over a white shirt that
had thin, black vertical lines. He was tall, his shoulders broad, and his dark
hair had a few flecks of gray at the temples. He sported facial hair, not
loads, just a neat, trimmed beard that was only just longer than stubble.
“Mr.
Dawson,” I said, standing and extending my hand. I struggled not to grimace as
my cock nudged up against my zipper.
“Please,
call me Brent, I told you that last time and the time before that.” Brent took
my hand, wrapped his warm, strong fingers around mine, and smiled.
“Of
course, I’m sorry, and please, like I said, most people around here call me
Gabe.” That wasn’t true, it was always Mr. Stone or sir, but there was
something about Brent that made me want to be on a first-name basis with him.
Maybe it was his sincere eyes that shone with quick wit and a sense of fun
despite the hell he was going through with his divorce.
If Hayley
did that to me I wouldn’t be able to go on living. But she never would. We’d
made our solemn vows ten years ago and hadn’t wavered in our promises since.
Our feelings had only grown. Hard to believe when we’d thought ourselves so in
love back then that the emotions could have intensified one hundredfold.
“So,
Gabe,” Brent said, taking a seat in front of my desk and crossing his legs.
“What have you got for me today?”
I sat
then reached for his file. “We have plenty to get through, but it should be
fairly straight forward. Your financial consultant sent me all the information
I needed and I’ve examined it carefully. As I’ve said before, there’s a lot we
can do to protect what’s yours. I don’t think a judge in the land will give
Mrs. Dawson what she is demanding.”
He ran
his finger around his collar. “Well, that’s a relief to hear you say.”
I went
to cross my legs but stopped when my still swollen cock complained. Brent wore
a delicious aftershave and it had filtered toward me. It was a combination of
pine forest and spiced apple and it laced my tongue in the way a yearned for
flavor did. He always smelled nice; I’d noticed that about him.
“It’s
my job,” I said. “To make sure you get what you deserve and are satisfied with
the outcome.”
“Again,
that’s good to hear.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, leaving a damp
sheen.
I
opened his folder. I didn’t usually study other men, that wasn’t how I was, but
Brent Dawson, well, there was just something thickly masculine about him yet
also congenial. It pressed buttons I didn’t know I had. Buttons I had yet to
admit to having, even to myself, although the more I saw him the tougher it was
to deny their existence. I liked him in a way that was totally new to me.
“We
should probably just confirm the contributions and totals for the pensions, so
you know how it stands,” I said.
“Sure.”
He leaned forward and set his elbows on the table with his fingers steepled
beneath his chin. The sleeves on his suit jacket slipped, exposing dark hairs
peeking from his shirt cuffs, engraved silver links and a heavy watch, the face
hidden on the underside of his wrist. He
wore it back to front. “Take it away, Gabe.”
I set
about showing him the figures, confirming it was as he’d expected then
outlining the reasons why I felt he would get to keep the majority of his
funds.
He
sighed heavily a couple of times and blew out several low breaths as if
relieved by what I was saying.
Eventually
he sat back in the chair and gripped the armrests. “I think you’ve done a great
job. If it goes as you say when we reach court, that is. I really don’t want to
give up what I’ve worked hard for to someone who has lied and cheated.”
“And
why should you?” I adjusted my tie. It felt a little tight. I’d be glad to take
it off soon. The office was warm and the air heavy. “She’s committed adultery
and that’s grounds for divorce.”
He
glanced at his watch, having to turn his palm up to see the face. “I never
thought it would happen to us.”
“Divorce?”
“Yeah.”
He set his gaze on mine. “You told me before, last time we chatted, that you’ve
been married for ten years.”
“Yes,
very happily.”
“I’m
pleased for you, genuinely. Because it’s wonderful to share your life with
someone you love…” He agitated the knot of his tie, the way I had. “I thought I
had that with Nadia, or at least I kidded myself that I did. But looking back,
she always had a roving eye.”
“What
do you mean?”
“She
was a flirt. Even on our wedding day she danced in an overly suggestive way
with one of the ushers to some rock song at the end of the evening. I just put
it down to her being drunk by that point, but really, I should have seen the
signs back then.”
“Overly
suggestive?”
“Yeah,
riding his thigh with her wedding dress hoisted up, gyrating and bucking,
shouting yeehaa.” He pulled his lips down, as though the memory made him want
to shudder.
“Were
there other signs?”
He
stood, pointed at the decanters and crystal glasses that sat on the cabinet.
“May I?”
“Help
yourself.”
He
moved across my office, and I found myself again admiring the cut of his suit.
The jacket stopped just below his buttocks and hung in a perfectly straight
line. His legs were long and lean—he’d told me before that he played tennis and
liked to cycle, that would explain his athletic physique.
He
poured water, the chink of a single melting ice cube on glass rattling around
the quiet office, then turned and took a sip.
After
he’d swallowed he spoke again. “Yes, there were signs. She insisted on having
passwords for her mobile phone and personal computer, ones she wouldn’t tell
me. She used to tap her nose and say a lady needed some secrets. I just
presumed she was shopping online and didn’t want me to see the cost of some of
the things she bought for the damn horses, or that she and her friends sent
silly, maybe naughty texts to each other that she preferred to keep private.”
He gave a resigned huff. “Once, I overheard
her telling a girlfriend that she and I had enjoyed a great night together, you
know, in bed, and she’d text her the details later. I suppose I was flattered
that she was talking about my sexual prowess, and that her friend was
interested.” He shook his head. “Trouble is, for the last eighteen months of
our marriage, she was texting him, talking to him about their sex. Planning on meeting up so they could have more sex. If
only I hadn’t been so damn naïve.”
“How
were you to know? She’s a skillful liar and devious too.”
“Hindsight
and all that.” Brent finished his water and set the glass aside. He shoved his
hands into his trouser pockets. The base of his jacket hooked behind his
forearms and I couldn’t help but study the way the triangular point of his tie
stroked the silver buckle on his belt. There was a bulge beneath—not an
erection, just the hint of a weighty cock. I would hazard a guess that he hung
to the left.
What the hell am I doing?
I
forced myself to turn away, spread my fingers on the desk and stared down at
his file. Fuck, my cock was bloating again, and a tingle in my balls was
spreading up from the base of my spine to my neck and over my scalp.
“There’s
one more thing,” I said. “Another spanner she’s thrown into the works, just
this week.”
“Oh?”
Brent sat before me again and his brow creased. “I don’t like the sound of
that.”
I
cleared my throat, the words stalling.
“Gabe?”
I took
a deep breath. “I’ve become privy to some information.”
“What,
for heaven’s sake?”
“She’s
threatening to accuse you of adultery too.”
“What?”
He leaped to his feet with his fists clenched at his sides.
“I’m
sorry,” I said, looking up at him.
Hurt
and confusion swept over his handsome features.
“But it
gets worse,” I went on.
“How
the bloody hell can it get worse than a blatant lie? She has no proof because
it’s not true, she has no grounds. How can this stand in court?”
“It
won’t, I hope.”
“You
hope?”
I shut
the file then placed my hand over the top, wishing I could keep the information
in and save hurting Brent. He was the type of man who wouldn’t take having his
masculinity or his sexuality questioned. He oozed testosterone, a potent
maleness that couldn’t be ignored. Not that there would be anything wrong with
being gay, I just didn’t think he was.
“Gabe?”
He flattened his hands, palms down, on the table and tipped forward. His tie
swung into the gap between us. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
I
nodded. “Yes.”
“So
spit it out.” He pressed his lips together and a flash of determination crossed
over his eyes. “Whatever the hell it is.”
I
swallowed. “She’s accusing you of having an affair with an old university
friend.”
“That’s
ridiculous. I’m not in touch with anyone from my university days.”
“Are
you sure?”
“Fuck,
yes.” He hesitated. “I went to a reunion, a year before I proposed to Nadia. It
was up in Durham, that’s where I studied business. Loads of the old crowd went,
mostly all doing well for themselves…”
His
face softened and he stared past me, no doubt looking at the London skyline out
of my window. I got the feeling he wasn’t really seeing and his mind had
wandered elsewhere.
“And?”
I asked gently.
“There
was one person I was pleased to see but…” He straightened and shoved his hand
through his hair. It sprang back into place all bar one strand, shaped like a
tiny comma, which stayed sticking up just over his right ear.
I
itched to flatten it. Comfort him. The information I was going to have to dig
for next would not be easy. “But what?” I asked.
“But we
didn’t stay in touch, not after…”
I
stood. Walked around the desk, leaned my buttocks against it. I gripped the rim
and looked at him. We were close now, very close and I could feel his body
heat. “I understand this kind of thing can be hard. Having worked in this area
of law for many years, I’ve seen countless marriages being torn apart and a
million accusation flung about, but the thing is…” I tightened my hold on the
table. The urge to press my hand on his shoulder or take his hand in mine was
almost overwhelming. “We have to be honest with each other if I’m going to help
you.”
“I’ve
always been honest with you.” He folded his arms.
“Good,
so you’ll tell me if this person you connected with was someone you met up with
after you married Nadia.”
“I just
told you, no, not at all, we haven’t had any communication since I married
Nadia, there couldn’t be.”
I
nodded. “Okay, that’s great. So there won’t be any phone calls or pictures or
social media evidence that you continued to have a relationship.”
“No,
absolutely not.”
There
was a hardness to his voice, a conviction, and I really did believe him.
However, he did need to know the full details of what he was being accused of
because it was bound to come up in court when I made sure things didn’t go
Nadia’s way.
“There’s
more,” I said.
“I can
handle it.” He gave a stiff shrug.
I
wasn’t convinced he could but I went on anyway, “She’s implying that person you
met up with was a man.” I paused. “She’s accusing you of having an affair with
a man for the last eight years.”
Chapter
One
Hayley
“Dry
white wine, large, and a bottle of Becks, please.” I handed the barman a twenty
and glanced around for a seat I could claim while I waited for Gabe.
The
Golden Goose was filling up fast; it was that time of evening, but I could see
a free table and three straight-backed chairs at the rear.
“Here
you go.” The barman set the drinks before me then dropped the change into my
palm. He flashed me a wide smile and let his fingers linger over my hand.
He was
new, I hadn’t seen him before; young, attractive, his blond hair super-short
which highlighted his angled features. He had a small black cross in his left
ear lobe and a tight, black-beaded necklace.
“Thanks.”
I returned the smile and collected the drinks.
I saw
his gaze dip to my wedding ring then he nodded politely and moved to the next
customer.
I
smiled to myself. I adored being married to Gabe. It was the singular best
thing that had ever happened in my life. Not only was he kind and caring, sexy
and handsome, he was also my best friend. A person I could spend hours with
talking about the intricacies of law without fear of boring him, and the man I
started and ended each day with, and intended to for the rest of my life.
My last
few steps to the free seats had to be hurried. It was like sharks after chump
in here—chairs being the chump—and a couple of suits had set their eyes on what
I wanted. I sashayed with an extra roll of my hips, my heels clacking loudly on
the floor, and placed the drinks down a millisecond before the men reached the
table.
I
turned and gave them my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you just about
to…?”
“It’s
okay,” the dark-haired one with square-rimmed glasses said. “Ladies first.”
“Only
if you’re sure.” I faked a concerned expression and tugged on my bottom lip.
“Absolutely.”
He dropped his attention down my body.
His
perusal didn’t bother me. I used my hourglass figure and my femininity to my
advantage. Why fight it? Why insist I wasn’t perceived as female and only as a
lawyer? I was both and I could work the two roles together, and most of the
time the sum equaled more than the parts. “Oh, thanks, my feet are killing me
in these heels.” I quickly sat and angled my crossed legs into the space
between us, staking my claim on the seat.
His
attention lingered on the high black stilettoes I wore. They worked well with
my pale gray skirt suit. I’d added a shimmering black silk shirt and pearl
earrings to complete the outfit. I’d enjoyed the sexy feel of the silk all day,
skimming over my breasts and touching my neck.
I
tapped the air with the toe of my shoe and took a sip of wine.
“Perhaps
you’d like some company,” he said, supping on his beer then taking a step
closer. His friend did the same, putting his hand on the back of one of the
free chairs.
“Well,
that would have been lovely, but—”
“Do you
work around here?” his friend interrupted.
“Yes.”
“So do
we, for The Mail. Always chasing hot
stories.”
“And
hot women,” the bloke with the glasses said with a smirk. “I’m Neil by the
way.”
“Sam,”
his mate said, holding out a hand in my direction.
I
ignored it, inwardly groaned and took another sip of my drink. I’d actually
planned on sending a couple of texts to friends while I waited for Gabe. I’d
been neglectful of communication lately, so caught up in work and my husband
that chatting to friends sometimes got left by the wayside.
“Hey,
gorgeous.”
I
turned at the sound of Gabe’s voice.
He
stood just to my right, all wide shoulders and determined, set jaw. He had on
my very favorite black suit today, the one he’d only half discarded when he’d
fucked me last week. A little tremor snagged at my clit as I remembered the
earth-moving orgasm he’d treated me to. It had been worth the expense of that
new underwear even if it hadn’t stayed on long.
“Hey,”
I said. “You’re here.”
He
didn’t answer. Instead, he considered the two men looming over me. His
blue-gray eyes held a steely glint and a muscle flickered in his cheek.
“I’m
sorry, didn’t realize you were waiting for someone,” the guy with the glasses
said as he stepped backward.
His
friend let go of the chair and eyed Gabe warily.
“Yes,
my husband,” I said, enjoying the bloom of pride that filled my chest whenever
I referred to Gabe that way. Mine, he was mine, the man in my life, my protector,
my lover, my knight in shining armor.
“Well,
we’ll, er, leave you to it,” the bespectacled man said, moving away.
He was
closely followed by his mate.
“Hassling
you?” Gabe asked, bending to kiss my cheek.
“They’d
only just started. I’d have soon got rid of them.”
He
smiled and stroked the back of his index finger down my face. “I have no doubts
about that.”
Sitting,
he reached for his beer and took a long drink. I studied his light-brown hair,
parted to the right. It was short and neat, as neat as when he’d left the house
that morning. He had a dusting of stubble appearing on his chin and cheeks, a
little over his top lip, but none on the small silvery scar just in front of
his left ear. That stayed smooth and pale—the wire fence that had cut him as a kid
had left a small zigzag shape.
“How
was your day?” I asked.
“Busy
as always.”
He
rested his arm around the back of my seat so that he was kind of hugging me but
not. It was a possessive gesture, but I didn’t mind. I liked being his.
“Got a
tricky financial divorce to get through, big money, high stakes.”
“Oh,
yeah?”
“Yeah,
it’s a successful business man, property mainly. Brent Dawson. His wife’s been
having an affair and is now trying to take him for everything.”
I shook
my head. “That’s not fun.”
Gabe frowned.
“No, I feel sorry for him and I can’t understand why it’s happened.”
“What
do you mean?”
“He’s
the sort of bloke other men want to be like, you know? He had everything to
offer her yet she looked elsewhere.”
I
raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t imagine Gabe—gorgeous, confident,
super-successful Gabe—ever wanting to be like anyone other than himself. “Why,
what’s he like?”
Gabe
shrugged. “Well, I suppose he’s just got loads going for him.”
“Like
what?”
He took
a sip of his beer, then, “Wealth, success, good looks, great body—”
“Great
body?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Well…He’s
an athlete, or into sports, tennis he said, and cycling. Not an ounce of fat on
him. He’s got long, strong arms and legs.”
I’d
never heard Gabe comment on another man’s physique before and it sparked my
curiosity. “How do you know about his body?”
Gabe
poked at the label on his beer and cast his eyes downwards. “Just a guess.”
I
laughed. “Well, I don’t have to guess to know you’ve got a great body. Come on,
it’s too busy in here. Let’s go home.”
“Yeah,
it’s hot too.” He fingered the rim of his collar.
I stood
and pulled the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Be hotter at home.”
He
grinned and pressed a kiss to my lips. “You better believe it, baby.”
* * *
Stepping
into our Chelsea townhouse, I kicked my high-heeled shoes into the corner of
the hallway and dropped my handbag on a tall-backed chair.
“I’m
going to grab a quick shower,” I said to Gabe as I deadlocked the door.
“Yes,
you do that. I’ll make us a bedroom picnic.”
“Sounds
interesting.”
“It
will be.”
I
laughed and headed for the bedroom. After shutting the curtains then stripping
my clothes off, I set my earrings on a stylish mirrored dressing table and
headed for the ensuite.
It was
newly refurbished as a wet room and was all dark slate, moody downlighters and
minimalist chrome fittings. I loved it. It was trendy and practical, the
perfect combination.
I
turned on the shower to the rainforest setting and stood under the fall of hot
water.
After a
quick shampoo, I lathered up with my favorite Jo Malone showergel, washed,
rinsed then stepped out. There was no point putting clothes on, Gabe would only
take them off again, so I bundled up in a fluffy red robe, rubbed at my long
curls to get the worst of the water off then wandered into the bedroom.
Gabe
was at the bedside table, lighting a candle.
“That
was quick,” he said, smiling my way.
The
muted shadows of the room sliced across his handsome face and a tug in my groin
reminded me how much I wanted him. But we had all night. We were married, in
our own home—sometimes it was nice not to rush. He was a sure thing.
“Yes,
I’m hungry,” I said with a smile then licking my lips.
“I’ve
done cheese and biscuits, grapes and some of that foie gras from yesterday.”
“Perfect.”
I walked over to the tray he’d set on the end of the bed and popped a green
grape into my mouth.
“Can
you wait while I have a shower?” he asked.
“Of
course.”
He’d
already removed his jacket so I kneeled on the bed to watch him take his
clothes off. He had no idea how much it turned me on to see him undress. It was
like my very own personal striptease show and I did my utmost to watch him if I
had the chance.
Slowly,
so slowly, he unknotted his tie and pulled it free from his collar. All kinds
of delicious thoughts came to me whenever I saw that particular navy tie. It
was the one he’d wrapped around my wrists then wrapped around the bedpost last
time we’d been away. Surrendering to him, letting him pleasure me in the most
deliciously torturous ways with his fingers, tongue and cock had left me wrung
out and more satisfied that I could ever remember.
He laid
the tie on the chair by my dressing table then undid his small shirt buttons.
Each one revealed a little more of his hair-coated chest until finally his
navel was also on show.
I cut
myself a sliver of cheese then nibbled it. I loved his stomach. It wasn’t
bricked and defined like a supermodel’s, because he wasn’t a supermodel, but it
was flat and had a tantalizing strip of thickening hair leading to his
waistband.
He
paused and glanced at his iPhone, seemingly oblivious to me watching him, then
he placed that and his keys and wallet on the dresser.
Pushing
my hand through my hair, I continued to study him closely.
He
tugged the shirt from his suit trousers and let it hang open while he unbuckled
his belt and slid it through the loops.
I
swallowed and stared at the thin strip of leather hanging in his hands. That
would be fairly efficient at tying me up, too.
He
glanced upwards at me. His lips parted but he didn’t speak. He looked from me
to the belt that had harnessed my attention and back at me.
I
raised my gaze to his and tilted my head.
He shut
his mouth and his lips twitched into a half-smile.
“Really?”
he asked.
I
shrugged, playing it cool. “Really what?”
“You
really want this belt?” He stepped closer, his bare feet silent on the
deep-pile carpet.
“I want
you but if you can think of something fun to do with that belt…” I paused and
pressed my wrists together, “then perhaps you should just do it.”
He held
the both ends of the belt and snapped it straight. The dark, excited look in
his eyes was thrilling and beyond sexy.
A
tightening in my belly sent shivers of arousal to my pussy and my nipples.
“Well,
I never thought I’d use my belt on my gorgeous wife, but if you insist.” He
spoke in a dark, husky way that assured me that the only thing on his mind now
was sex. Sex and fucking.
He
leaned forward, hung above me, and spoke onto my lips. “The picnic will wait
until after I’ve had my wicked way with you.”
“I
think that would work.” I straightened my legs and rested back onto the bed.
He pushed into me and set a kiss over my lips.
“Mmm…”
he said, shifting. “Like this.”
His
weight was heavy on me, his legs either side of my hips as he sat straight,
straddling my body. His ass on my lower abdomen.
I
stared up at him. His skin was dark in comparison to the open white shirt he
still wore and his shoulders so wide blocking out the rest of the room from my
vision.
He was
all I saw.
He was
all I wanted.
“Put
your hands over your head, Mrs. Stone.”
“Yes,
Mr. Stone. Anything you say, Mr. Stone.” I did as he’d asked and curled my
fingers around the wooden slats in our bedframe.
“Very
good.” He reached upward and threaded the belt through my wrists.
I
studied the underside of his chin as he worked. Peppered with stubble and with
a slight indent as he stretched forward. I could see his pulse beating beneath
the surface of his skin, pounding away as fast as mine was.
This
moment of surrender, of giving myself to him was thrilling, and as the belt
tightened on my flesh and his fingers secured the buckle, the worries and
stresses of the day rose from me.
I was
his now. Nothing else mattered.
“Is
that okay?” he asked.
I
nodded. “Yes.”
He
smiled. The candlelight flashed in his eyes. “Good.”
I
opened my mouth for his kiss. Our tongues tangled then he lifted off me and sat
at my side, his legs folded beneath him.
“Oh,
what a sight,” he said, easing apart my robe which had slipped open and exposed
my right breast. “You really are so beautiful. It’s a sin for you to wear
clothes at all.”
“So
take them off.” I wriggled and the robe fell apart some more.
He
poked out his tongue and licked his lips. “Oh, I will, don’t you worry about
that.”
He
ducked and suckled my right nipple into his mouth.
The
hot, wet sensation went straight to my pussy. A warm heat between my legs told
me I was getting damp for him. I yanked my arms and arched my back. The loss of
ability to move added to my excitement.
He
lapped, licked then nipped my delicate flesh. With his other hand he exposed my
left breast and tweaked that nipple.
“Gabe…”
I gasped and looked down at the top of his head. His neat thick, hair shimmered
in the dim light; the chestnut colors in the short strands seeming to glow
golden.
“Mmm…”
he murmured, kissing across my sternum and leaving a warm damp trail with his
tongue and lips.
I shut
my eyes and groaned.
He
massaged and squeezed my breasts. The need for more grew within me.
“So hot
for it,” he whispered. “Fuck, so damn hot.”
His
breaths heated my skin. He swept his
hand down my stomach and I parted my legs.
“Are
you wet as well as hot?” he asked, stretching out on his belly.
“Yes.”
I watched as he settled himself between my legs.
I was
bared open to him, his hands on my inner thighs, his shirt still on, cuffs done
up.
It
turned me on so much when he wore the remnants of his lawyer persona yet he was
getting down and dirty. All day long he was stiff-upper-lipped with clients,
the epitome of an English gent and a competent, skilled negotiator. Yet when
the sun went down, when the curtains were shut, his beast came out to play.
With
me.
His
desires were unleashed and his needs surfaced for satisfaction. Rather than
getting used to each other, ten years of marriage had only made him hungrier.
“Ah…ah…”
I panted as he dragged the tip of his tongue through my folds. “Oh, yeah…more
of that.”
He gave
it—circling my clit and searching out my entrance with his fingertips.
I was
wet and the scent of my arousal drifted up to my nose.
He
pushed into me and I tensed my stomach and harnessed that first delicious
promise of a climb to orgasm.
He
stopped.
He
lifted up, rested back with his knees bent and studied my face.
“What
the…?” I cried.
He
still had two fingers in my pussy.
“How
you feeling?” he asked with a tilt of his eyebrows.
His
mouth was damp, his cheeks a little flushed and his shirt now disheveled and
creased. But he looked calm, he looked the very essence of composed.
“Frustrated,”
I said as I spread my legs wider and again pulled on the belt. It dug into my
skin and the cool buckle scraped against the pad of my right thumb.
“I like
seeing my powerful wife tied up, naked, hungry, demanding. Gone are the suits,
the heels, the adoring minions, it’s just you, the raw bare bones of you.”
“Yes,
and the raw bare bones of me are demanding.” I frowned and clenched my internal
muscles around his fingers. “Demanding that you don’t stop what you were
doing.”
He
stroked over my G-spot.
I
sucked in a breath. “Yes…”
“No.”
He pulled out and stood by the bed.
“Gabe!”
I whined, pressing my legs together to try to get some friction on my clit.
It was
no good. It wasn’t him.
He
leaned over me, put his damp fingers on my cheek and stroked down my neck.
“You’ll have to wait until I’m ready.” He grinned. “I’m not one of your
underlings and I told you I wanted to shower first. You just got me carried
away. Now you’ll have to wait.”
“Really?”
“Yes,
really.” He placed his lips over mine and kissed me.
It was
a hot, hard kiss that tasted of my sex.
“Now,”
he said, straightening and undoing the cuffs on his shirt. “You stay there like
a good little girl.”
Little girl!
“I
can’t do much else,” I said with a frown and another tug of the belt. I’d get
him back for this.
“Good,”
he said. “That means you’ll still be wet and hot for me when I come back.”
Chapter
Two
I
tutted as he strode from the room then stared up at the ceiling and the shadows
that danced there. A dust mote hung down from the crystal lightshade and swayed
slightly in the barely there draught.
I
huffed. Damn it. How could he leave me like this? There was moisture between my
legs, my nipples were peaked and my heart was pounding.
I heard
the shower come on, a steady patter at first but then disjointed drips as Gabe
stepped in.
Fuck, I
should have just joined him in the shower to begin with. Likely chances were
I’d be getting screwed good and proper up against the tiles by now instead of
being left lacking attention and tied to the bed.
But it
was what I’d wanted.
I just
hadn’t expected him to walk away.
Bloody
tease.
Well,
two could play at that game. He’d started something now. I’d find something to
tease Gabe with. Have a think and get something new that would blow his
mind—after a while, of course, after a good bit of tormenting.
I
squirmed and shifted my ass on the covers. My robe was wide open and bunched on
my arms and beneath my shoulders.
I had
no idea what to tempt Gabe with. He didn’t talk about fantasies very often, but
maybe that was because I hadn’t dug around for information. I hadn’t probed and
explored what went on in that head of his, in the erotic corners of his mind.
Well,
that was all about to change.
The
water switched off and I stared at the doorway to the ensuite. I hoped he
wouldn’t decide a shave was in order, or spend ages fussing around in there.
He
didn’t.
Naked
and glorious, he filled the doorframe. Backlit by the muted glow of the
ensuite, he was a vision of the perfect male.
“How
are you doing, gorgeous?” he asked, leaning casually against the jamb and
crossing his arms.
“I’m
not coming,” I said, banging my head on the pillow. “Get your sexy arse over
here and that big cock in me, right now.”
He
chuckled and straightened. “You’re so impatient, Hales.”
“Yes.
I’m impatient for you.” I looked at his erection that jutted upwards from his
dark pubic hair. He was ready for action; there was no need to put this off
another moment.
He
walked to the bed and looked down at me.
I drew
up my knees, flopped my legs open and pulled at the belt. I groaned and screwed
up my face.
“Shh…”
he said. “All in good time.”
He
curled his hand around the nape of my neck, his palm cradling my skull, and
lifted my head.
“Open
up,” he said.
I did
as he’d asked and, mouth wide, I watched as he fisted his cock with his other
hand. He smoothed up to the head then back down again, shifting the skin and
exposing the taut shape of his glans.
I
whimpered, the need to taste him almost driving me crazy with want.
He must
have understood my agony for he tilted his hips forward and fed his cock into
my mouth.
Smooth
and hot, his glans popped in. He tasted clean, of the shower and soap, but also
of him. Beneath any other flavor I could always find his particular
tang—slightly musky, peppery and so damn sexy. He tasted of sex.
He slid
in farther, still holding the back of my neck so that I had to take what he gave
me. But that was okay, I could handle whatever he wanted me to have. Oral sex
with Gabe was one of my most favorite things.
His
shaft slipped over my tongue—so thick, so hard and so wide.
I
hugged him with my mouth, sucking slightly too.
“Ah,
yeah, take my dick, baby,” he said, tension in his voice. “Take it all the
way.”
I
couldn’t answer. But I arched my spine, stretched my neck and invited him
deeper.
He kept
on gliding in.
He was
so low in my throat now. I beat down a gag and sucked in air through my nose.
Excitement was spiraling within me. I wanted him to come. I wanted to taste his
pleasure.
He
released his cock and reached for my right breast. He squeezed and pulled at my
nipple. His movements were rough, rushed, not completely controlled.
I loved
my nipples being compressed like that by him. The sensation rushed straight to
my pussy as though they were hot wired together.
I
groaned and the sound vibrated around his shaft.
“Ah…fuck,”
he said.
I
tasted a drip of pre-cum.
Good,
he was as excited as me.
The
grip of his fingers on my neck ramped up my pleasure. I adored being owned,
possessed by him like this.
“Enough…”
he moaned, withdrawing.
“Gabe…”
I gasped, staring up at him.
“It’s
too nice.” He rested my head down and gripped his cock in his right hand. He
squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head to the ceiling.
His
chest heaved as he sucked in air, clearly regaining control after heading so
fast to the edge of ecstasy. His left hand was balled into a fist at this side.
I lay
still, watching him, loving that I could make him battle with his stamina even
after all of this time together and after more blowjobs than we could ever
count.
He
looked back down at me, desire sparkling in his eyes.
“Fuck
me,” I said breathily. “Fuck me, Gabe. Fuck me and prove that I’m yours.”
He slid
over me, his chest connecting with mine and his cock nudging my leg.
I
pressed into him, adoring his weight on me, and his body heat radiating onto my
skin.
“You
are mine,” he said. “You’re mine to do whatever I want with.”
“Yes…yes…”
“I’ve
fucked your mouth,” he said. He licked the corner of my lips with the point of
his tongue. “And now I’m going to fuck your cunt.”
God, I
loved it when he said that forbidden word—a word that would never pass his lips
in our day-to-day world.
“Please.”
I wriggled and managed to get the head of his cock aligned with my entrance.
“Please, now.”
He
forged in. One fast, hard thrust to full depth.
I cried
out, so did he.
He
filled me so perfectly, so absolutely.
“Was
that what you wanted?” he asked, straightening his arms and looking down at
where we were joined.
“Yes,
more, give it all to me…” I hooked my legs behind his thighs and squirmed so
that my clit was stimulated too.
He
pulled out, so just the peak of him was seated in me then he blasted back in.
I shut
my eyes—the sensation of him propelling over my G-spot was exquisite.
This
time he didn’t pause, he just withdrew and plunged in again.
“Gabe…”
I gasped.
He
lowered onto me, his mouth at my temple now and his chin butting into my cheek
as he fucked me harder, faster.
The
pressure was building. My orgasm preparing to detonate. His teasing had wound
me up to combustion point and I was nearly there.
I
struggled for breath, the air knocked out of me with each one of his forceful
thrusts. I didn’t care. I could breathe later.
My clit
was being bombarded relentlessly, my pussy filled over and over. The head of
his cock was jolting my cervix, creating a deep, dense sensation I loved.
“I’m…I’m…coming…”
I managed.
My
orgasm claimed me. Gabe didn’t let up, he kept on fucking with near violent
jerks of his hips. It was amazing; my climax bloomed on and on, not abating
because of the way he was still going at me.
I
battled with my binds, rattling the bed. My body was convulsing, the shockwaves
beginning in my pussy and extending outwards in blissful tremors of pleasure.
Finally
the crest waned, though I was still pulsing and shaking.
“Did I
hit the spot?” Gabe asked, slowing.
“You
know damn…well you did,” I panted.
He
pushed up again and I unhooked my legs from behind his then flopped them to the
bed.
“Good.”
He propped his weight onto one hand and took my right nipple between his
fingers again.
He
rolled and tweaked and tugged it long and thin.
“Mmm…”
I said, bowing my back. “That hurts so nice.”
He
smiled, a dark, wicked smile.
I
clenched my pussy around his cock.
He was
still hard and thick. I’d come but he hadn’t.
“How do
you want to?” I asked, pulling at my arms. Perhaps he wanted to untie me so I
could ride him, or maybe he wanted my mouth again.
“How do
I want to come?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes,
you know that’s what I meant.” I ran my right foot down his thigh, over the
back of his knee then along his muscled calf. “You want me to ride you cowboy?”
The
cheeky grin I’d expected didn’t appear. Instead, he frowned and his eyes
narrowed.
“No,”
he said.
“So
tell me.” I studied his face, looking for clues.
“I
want…”
“What?”
“I want
your arse.”
Suddenly
he was out of me and my face hit the pillow. He’d flipped me with one fast
flick of his arm around my torso.
My forearms
crossed, the robe tangled and he shoved the material aside.
“Gabe…”
“I want
this. I want your arse,” he said, sitting again between my legs, but this time
palming my ass cheeks, spreading them wide then pushing them together.
“But…”
My stomach clenched with excitement. We didn’t indulge in anal sex very often
but when we did it was always intimate and satisfying, though usually
pre-planned.
He
placed his finger over my tight pucker.
I
gasped and turned my head so the opposite cheek was on the pillow.
“I know
it’s not a birthday or anniversary but I just can’t stop thinking about fucking
your arse.”
“Ahh…”
I jerked a little as he slid his finger into my anus, its way eased by my own
juices.
“So
hot, so tight…” he said. “I want my cock in here, baby.”
“Yes,”
I whispered, relaxing and accommodating another finger he was pressing into me.
My mind
was spinning. What had brought this on?
He
gently fucked me with two fingers, getting me pliant and used to him being
there.
I
moaned and shut my eyes. This was a new turn of events on how I thought the
evening would go, but then that was one of the things I loved about Gabe—he
still surprised me.
He
slipped out and I watched him lean to the bedside drawer and grab a tube of
lubrication.
My
heart was thudding and my skin tingled.
The bed
shifted as he slicked himself up, ready to enter my darkest, most private
place.
I
closed my eyes, parted my lips and stretched my legs wider.
“Here,
like this,” he said, hoisting my hips up and shoving a pillow beneath them. “I
want to see where I’m going.”
This
position made me so open, so vulnerable to him. But I knew he’d never hurt me,
not in a bad way, only in a sexy, pleasurable way.
He was
touching my hole again, spreading cool lube around my wrinkled pucker.
“Gabe.”
“I’m
here, it’s okay.”
There
was excitement in his voice. He was soothing, yes, but also there was a big
bolt of eager anticipation there too.
“You’re
ready,” he said, leaning over me, his chest coming into contact with my back.
“Let me in.”
The
head of his cock nudged at my hole. I tried to relax, discard the tension, but
it wasn’t easy when I was so wound up and turned on. Damn, he’d fucked my
mouth, my pussy and now he was claiming my ass. I loved Gabe, I loved being
his. I loved him fucking every inch of me, taking everything I had to give.
He
pushed in, just a little bit, slowly, so slowly, allowing my sphincter to ease
apart and accommodate his width.
I
clenched my fists—my hands tingled from being bound and high—and raised my
head. My breath was lodged low down in my chest.
My
crown rested against his face and he spoke into my ear.
“Can
you feel that?” he asked.
“Fuck,
yes, of course.”
“What
does it feel like? Tell me.”
“Big.”
“What
else?” He gained another inch.
The rim
of his glans popped in past my sphincter.
I
groaned.
“Baby,
tell me.”
“Wide,
and hot, so hot. Not just your cock, but my hole, the stretched skin, it’s on
fire.”
His
breaths were warm and fast by my ear, storm-like. “Now, how does it feel now?”
As he’d
spoken he’d driven in farther. It felt like I had him all now, or at least I
hoped I did because I couldn’t take much more.
“Oh,
God,” I moaned.
“What’s
it like?” he asked again, more urgently.
What
was it with the questions? “I…I’m so full. It’s like you’re part of me. So deep
inside me.”
He
groaned. “I am. I’m so damn high up in your pretty arse, my arse—I own you,
don’t I?”
“Yes.
I’m yours, Gabe…”
“So
take all of me.” He eased in some more.
Just
when I didn’t think I could take another inch of his cock he gave it to me. His
balls pushed at my pussy and the root of his shaft stretched my anus so damn
wide. Darts of arousal shot to my clit and my pussy trembled for him.
It had
been so long since we’d indulged in this. Why did we leave it so many months?
And
what had made Gabe yearn for it tonight?
“Are
you handling me?” he asked.
“Yes.
Yes…”
“Good,
because I’m going to come now. In your arse.”
“I want
that…oh, Gabe…”
He
withdrew, not far, then slid back in.
We both
grunted; mine muffled in the pillow, his in my hair.
“I
can’t last…” he said.
“So
come. Come in me.” I didn’t think I’d orgasm again, the last one was so fresh.
But I loved coming first then hearing, seeing, feeling Gabe’s climax without
being distracted.
“I’m
going to,” he moaned. “Fuck, it’s here…already.”
He
shoved into me.
His
pubic hair tickled my buttocks and my breasts dragged on the bedcovers.
I
splayed my fingers wide, curled my toes and allowed my body to be a vessel for
my husband’s pleasure.
“Oh,
God, oh, God…” he gasped. “That’s it. Right, high…in you…”
His cock
was pulsing, small throbs that my sensitive sphincter absorbed. Warmth seeped
inside me, mixing with the lube.
I
committed it all to memory. Every groan, jerk and judder. Later, or tomorrow,
I’d find that corner of my mind where I’d stored this moment and smile, hug
myself and think of Gabe orgasming with his beautiful cock in my ass.
“Ah,
Hales, that’s so good…” he said breathlessly and stilling his twitching hips.
“So fucking good.” He flopped harder onto me.
“Lift
up a bit,” I puffed. “Can’t…breathe.”
“Fuck,
sorry.” He pulled away and slid his cock out.
“You
didn’t have to…” I felt bereft without him.
“I
did.” He reached for my wrists and quickly undid the belt. “You’ve been trussed
up like that for too long. I hope you haven’t lost feeling in your hands.”
“No,
they’re okay,” I said. That wasn’t quite the truth, they were a little numb and
pins and needles jabbed at my fingertips.
He
discarded the belt and it slithered to the floor. The bunched-up robe was also
abandoned.
“Come
here,” he said, scooping me close to his chest.
I
pressed my hands between us and linked my fingers, relieved to have my
shoulders back in a more natural position.
“Thanks,”
he said, kissing my forehead and speaking into my hair. “That was fucking
awesome.”
“You
don’t need to say thanks,” I said, snuggling my face into his neck and settling
into my favorite spot, the gap between his head and the first angle of his
shoulder that felt like it was designed just for me.
“I
hadn’t planned that, when I tied you to the bed, you know.”
“Did
you plan any of it?” I closed my eyes. “The shower? Leaving me dying of
frustration?”
“No, I
just went with what felt right.”
“And it
did feel right, so clearly that approach works.” I sucked in a large breath—my
heart and breathing rates were returning to normal.
Gabe
tangled his legs with mine.
“So why
were you so…er…talkative?” I asked. “You’re not usually so keen to know how
everything feels.”
He was
quiet for a moment and I didn’t think he’d answer, but then, “I don’t know,
it’s just…”
“What?”
Curiosity was gnawing at me but I contained it. Something told me he might clam
up if he thought I was as fascinated as I was.
“It’s
just I was thinking about it today, anal sex, you know.”
“As you
do.” I smiled.
“Well,
not usually, not at work, but I did, and then when I saw you so keen for me to
bury deep all that need came back.”
“So why
were you thinking about it? I’m sure it wasn’t Ethel, your secretary, that got
you going.”
He
chuckled. “No, definitely not.” He paused. “I don’t know really. I just was.”
“And
you wondered what it felt like for me to have you in my arse?”
“Yes.
It feels fucking awesome when I’m in there, so tight on my dick and on the root
and so soft and warm. It’s so…”
I
grinned, my cheek bunching on his neck. “Naughty, forbidden?”
“Yeah,
I guess, and it makes me feel so close to you.”
I
wriggled nearer. “You’re always close to me, even when we’re apart.”
“I
know.”
“And
did I satisfy your curiosity?” I asked. “About how it feels?”
“Yeah,
well…” He tensed slightly.
I
raised my head, needing to look at his face through the dim light. “Well what?”
“Yes,”
he said with a downward curl of his lips that lasted a nanosecond. “You did.”
I bit
my bottom lip. Not only was I a lawyer and trained to look for
micro-expressions, I also knew my husband. And what I’d just seen was one of
the things I loved about him. There was always more to learn and that delighted
me, especially in a moment like this when I’d just seen something I hadn’t
expected.
Because
I hadn’t satisfied his curiosity about how it felt to be ass-fucked. Not by a
long shot. How could I with just a few words? Words were inadequate for such a
momentous feeling, such a grand sensation.
Gabe
had just revealed a fantasy to me. Without even realizing it he’d given me a
tool to tease and thrill him with, to make him come in a way he never had
before.
I
smiled and let out a long, slow breath as I shut my eyes. It seemed I’d be shopping between sessions
tomorrow. There was something I didn’t have naturally but luckily would be able
to buy.
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