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Unchained by Suzanne Halliday, Jenny Sims (39)

SHE WAS PERFECTION. If he looked up the word in the dictionary, Alex fully expected to find a picture of his wife as she was now. Gloriously naked. Hair spread around her face and shoulders as it clung to the pillow beneath her head.

Red shibari rope wound around each wrist and held her fast to the sturdy posts of their bed. The same for each ankle. Seeing her spread eagle excited him, with her golden skin and sexy red hair a marked contrast to the bright white linens beneath her.

Her bewitching green eyes were a smoky jade color. The result of a seductive warm-up that had her moaning with sweet arousal as she twisted and shifted in the restraints.

Using a long piece of black lace he found in a box of his grandfather’s things, he dragged it across her naked body causing her smooth skin to prickle with awareness. Admittedly, he might be a bit twisted in his thinking, but he liked to imagine one of the Spanish Don’s in his family tree using the same length of handmade lace to excite their woman the same way.

And his sexy Irish wife loved it. Her response as he wrapped the material around each of her tits and teased the plump mounds until she cried out turned his cock to stone.

The same when he ran the sexy material between her legs.

Now, she was a quivering mass of supersensitive nerve endings and heightened arousal. Time for his surprise.

Leaving her bound to the bed, he casually walked away and left her. From the depths of their dressing closet, he called out. “Have something special for my Fuck Goddess.”

Quickly disrobing, Alex slid on a pair of old Justice sweats. He’d just as soon be naked, but experience had already proven when he went to town on his wife’s voluptuous body, it was better if his dick wasn’t in the way. Digging through the duffel bag Ben had brought by earlier, he found his flogger and something new. Something unexpected he found on the spur of the moment when he took an expensive stroll through a D.C. sex shop.

When he went back to the bedroom, he paused in the doorway for a minute to enjoy the scene. Tying one’s wife to the bed might not be a mainstream activity, but he and his lovely bride enjoyed and indulged in it frequently. At the beginning of the relationship, he struggled a bit with where some of his heavy-handed passions led them, afraid he was more beast than gentleman at times.

But his wife was a willing participant. Not only that, the depth of communication they shared through these kinky activities opened his eyes to what all his dominance and thundering sex drive was like on the other end.

Meghan needed the surrender. She needed him to dominate her. Through lots of trial and error, he’d discovered that when she was his willing submissive, her mind calmed and anything causing an imbalance simply ceased to exist. That sort of domination and response was a powerful thing. Something he respected and cherished because it was Meghan and because he knew her response was for him. And him alone.

“Keep those knees wide, baby,” he growled from his spot leaning in the archway. “Show me what’s mine.”

He approached her from the end of the bed, running his fingers from the ticklish sole of her foot up her calf and to the top of her thigh, moving slowly up her body till he encountered a tightly puckered nipple.

He smiled.

Dropping the flogger to the floor, he watched her react to the heavy thud. It was a familiar sound. She whimpered sexily when she heard it, knowing what was to come.

Or so she thought.

“This surprise,” he told her with some well-placed teasing, “is also a gift.”

Taking the purple tissue paper folded into a neat pouch, he laid it on her stomach, crossed his arms and stood back to leer at her.

“What? Can’t unwrap your gift ‘cause your husband tied your hands?” He chuckled. “Such a hardship.”

She was trying to see what was laying on her naked skin, lifting her head and straining against the ropes.

“Would you like me to open it for you?”

“Yes, please,” she answered in a husky whimper.

Leaving the package on her belly, he ripped open the tissue and whistled appreciatively. “Sweet,” he growled. “I know it’s your surprise and your gift, but baby,” he assured her with a quick twist of her closest nipple, “I’m going to enjoy using these on you.”

She gasped at his words.

Having teased her enough, he lifted two shiny gold objects up for her to see. He was enormously pleased with this new equipment, and if he played it right, she would be too.

“Fourteen karat gold, handmade nipple clamps.”

Her first reaction was a gasp and then she started to quiver.

He felt like a salesman as he explained the pleasure-torture devices. “Each clamp is adjustable for just the right amount of bite. The ends are covered with a silicone bead, so even if it feels painful, no damage will be done.”

Waving the pretty metal objects, he continued. “They’re hung with three strands of Swarovski crystals and capped with a small emerald. Chose emerald,” he told her with a wicked leer, “to honor my Irish wife.”

She was watching him intently. Her once smoky jade eyes were now twinkling with shards of golden excitement.

“Shall we give them a whirl?”

She nodded jerkily and bit her lip. He laughed at her obvious excitement.

“Now, now, baby. You know the drill. Use your words, wife. I need to hear your pleasure and understand your fears, or we stop here.”

His sexy as fuck wife licked her lips and spoke with a husky, turned-on murmur. “Yes, Alex,” she said. “Whatever pleases you.”

Putting the devices on each nipple was a delight all by itself. Plucking each puckered nub until it stood at attention, he leaned over and sucked hard until the nipple throbbed and she cried out.

Tightening the clamps until she grimaced, he stood back to admire the picture she made when both were attached. He could tell it was a challenge for her by the heavy breaths he took and by how much squirming she did.

Now, it was time to quiet her mind. But first, a little treat for him. Reaching between her legs, Alex ran two fingers along her sex, found her slippery wet, and thrust one finger sure and deep. Aggressively fingering her until she was shaking head to toe, Alex enjoyed his dominance and led her to a precipice he knew she was eager to go over.

But not yet. Not quite yet.

When her pussy started clutching, he withdrew his hand and made a production out of licking the sexy wetness off his fingers.

Then he reached for the flogger and proceeded to take her, soft and gently at first, to another plane. With each thud of the leather against her body, Alex’s cock twitched with pleasure. Every time she groaned or whimpered, he’d rub his hand over the massive erection straining his sweats.

Her breasts and the gorgeous gold clips heaved and swayed as she twisted and shook in the restraints. When he used the flogger on her tits, he was astonished at the creamy flood leaking profusely from her pussy.

He knew she was flying high when she stopped struggling and lay quietly whimpering as he flogged her with increasing abandon.

Dropping the flogger, he swiftly pulled one of the clips off. She cried out and writhed in pain. Diving onto the engorged nipple, he sucked feverishly until need replaced the pain. Repeating the same procedure on the other side, Alex was well pleased when, in the end, she was shaking uncontrollably. Her need was so great he could smell it.

Sliding the sweats off, he crawled onto the bed, quickly untied her ankles, pushed her legs open wide, and licked her until she was crying, panting, and begging.

Taking a pillow, he shoved it beneath her ass, left her hands tied, and pushed her knees up and open. His aim was sure and perfect as he lined his cock up to her swollen entrance and thrust deep.

Keeping his hands in the bend of her knees, he forced her open and kept her body at the perfect angle for a thundering fuck. He knew damn well he wasn’t going to last long. Not with her sweet body creaming so beautifully all over his cock.

“Scream for me, woman. Don’t be quiet when I’m making love to you. Let me hear your pleasure.”

“Oh god, Alex,” she cried out. “I can’t, I can’t,” she moaned.

“You can, and you will.” He grunted as his cock hammered deep again and again. “Come on, baby. Give me what I want.”

“Alex,” she cried again and again. And then she went stone-cold ape-shit wild. Her pelvis lifted over and over; her pussy seized his cock and squeezed. A hot, slick flood washed his cock with come as she orgasmed so hard she went limp and he saw stars.

Quickly following her over the ledge, Alex jerked and bucked as his cock spurted endless streams into her magnificent pussy.

When it was over, he pulled out and quickly untied her hands. The second she was free, Meghan curled into him and clung as waves of aftershocks exploded in her body.

Covering them with blankets, he held on to her tight and soothed her quaking body in the aftermath of some spectacular lovemaking.

He smiled. It was their first night home. They fell asleep not long after.

Tori was sitting in the living room, a glass of wine in her hand after getting Daniel settled for the night, when she heard Draegyn’s car come to a stop in the driveway.

This is it, she decided calmly. No more of whatever the hell this was. Time for them to get serious and have a meaningful talk.

He seemed surprised to find her up and obviously waiting for him when he quietly crept into the house.

“Oh, hello,” he muttered.

She took a deep breath and scolded the irrational response in her mind when she wanted to jump up and smack him.

“Hello,” she replied.

“Didn’t expect you to be up.”

“Didn’t expect a lot of things, I imagine,” she answered silkily. Sipping her wine, she eyed him up and tried not to scream. Of course, he’d be in a fucking suit and tie.

Oy.

“Alex and Meghan are home,” she informed him matter-of-factly.

She watched as concern and consternation appeared on his face. Ah, so he had known but forgot it was today. What a dick.

“Yeah. Well, I had a previously scheduled appointment in Flagstaff that couldn’t be rescheduled. I’ll catch up with him tomorrow.”

All right, she thought. This was ridiculous. Enough was goddamn enough.

“Who’s Carol?”

Startled by her directness, he looked stunned and muttered, “What?”

“Don’t do me that way, Draegyn.” She shook her head.

“Where did you hear the name?”

“Does it matter?” she asked. He looked at her, and she gave the same back. “Don’t make it worse by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

She was surprised when he pulled a chair alongside her and sat down. He loosened his tie, tore open some buttons on his shirt, and sat back. “I’ve known Carol for years. We worked together at one point.”

“Worked together? How? Betty says there’s not a single Carol in the Justice database.”

“Aw, Jesus. Really? You went to Betty? Shit, Victoria. This isn’t anyone else’s business.”

He was so totally mistaken if he thought for a single second that she was going to let him deflect anything her way. She accepted her part in whatever led to them not communicating, but she sure as hell wasn’t taking any shit from him.

“Well, I don’t know, Draegyn. Running around trying to figure out if your husband is cheating on you sort of implies thinking outside the box.”

“Cheating?” he barked. “Who said anything about cheating?”

Her ire was starting to rise. “Oh, jeez. Let me think,” she bit out sarcastically. “Having the name Carol thrown in my face suggests many things. Cheating is at the top of the list.”

Affronted—and she wanted to scream at him for playing it that way—he did one of his snotty, down-the-nose smirks and answered petulantly, “I am not a cheater.”

Tori took a healthy gulp of her wine, sat forward, and put the half-empty glass on the table. Then she swiveled to face him. “Then explain please why the fuck you’ve been hanging around Flagstaff with Carol.”

“I don’t like what you’re accusing me of,” he said with real anger.

“Oh, yeah? Seriously? Well, I don’t like being kept in the dark. I don’t like feeling like you’re halfway out the door. I don’t like wondering what the hell is going on in your mind. And I especially don’t like this hot and cold routine you’re pulling. I know I’ve been hard to live with, Draegyn, but I never pulled away. That one’s on you.”

Sounding exasperated at her line of attack, he snarled at her. “Victoria. For heaven’s sake. I didn’t pull away. If anything, I did what any husband would do when his wife is recovering from a difficult birth. Your needs come first.”

“And my needs include double-wrapping condoms when we have sex? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? What am I supposed to think when you make love to me like a polite stranger, insist on bulletproof protection, and get late-night phone messages from someone named Carol?” She didn’t mean to, but she was screeching at the end.

“You said you didn’t want another baby.”

“Shit,” she yelled. “I said that because I’m a fucking hormonal mess. Didn’t you hear any of what I said about the doctor Lacey found? Am I that unimportant that you can’t even listen?”

“Victoria,” he pleaded.

“Oh, fuck,” she ground out. “Just stop, Draegyn. Please. I’ve had enough for today. Who is Carol? Why is this person a factor in my life? I deserve to know the truth.”

A good five minutes of tense, uncomfortable silence followed. Then he said something that blew her entire world apart, and it was the very last thing she ever expected to hear.

“It’s Doctor Stan Carol. He’s a urologist. Think urologist to the stars, if you want. That’s how we met. I was doing security for a big-time actor, and Carol was part of the guy’s entourage.”

Huh? What the hell did a urologist do? Wasn’t that a … oh, my god. She lifted stunned eyes to his face.

“I arranged a consult with him to talk about having a vasectomy.”

She shot out of her chair and freaked the fuck out. “A vasectomy? Are you insane? Draegyn! My god. Daniel,” she choked out, suddenly horrified at the idea that her husband wasn’t all that down with fatherhood.

“Did you do it,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Did you go behind my back and have a vasectomy?”

“That’s where I was today, but I …”

She felt sick to her stomach. Gurgling started roiling in her belly.

“Shut up!” She started screaming to block out the horror unfolding in her head. “You son-of-a-bitch.”

“But honey,” he muttered forlornly. “You said you didn’t want any more babies. I just wanted to protect you from another horrible pregnancy.”

Thinking him cheating on her was the worst sort of betrayal imaginable, Tori wasn’t in any way prepared to deal with an even more horrible form of marital treachery. He’d chosen for her without any sort of discussion and gone behind her back. Who fucking did that shit?

Draegyn St. John. That was who.

“Get out,” she said after calming down. “I don’t care where you go, but you’re not sleeping in my bed ever again.”

And then she walked away, her head held high, and stomped up the stairs to what had until two minutes ago been their bedroom. Once inside, she slammed the door with such force, she swore the whole house shook. The tears came not long after.

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