Embraced (14 page)

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Carolyn Faulkner

sharp cry of pain. Barrett looked up at her, to make sure she was ok, and despite a few tears, she seemed fine.

Leaving his thick finger inside her but still, he returned to his former occupation, as Meagan writhed beneath his tender ministrations. “B-B-Barrett, sssssssstoooooop!” she sounded almost like she did when he tanned her fanny.

“No, my Angel,” his voice was at least an octave lower, husky with his own lust. “I want to feel your orgasm with my mouth and finger.” And he continued to suckle and worry that little nub with his lips and tongue.

Meg’s cries were keening wails, and she clutched the sheets by her hips convulsively. “I – I – c-c-can’t staaaaaaaannnnnnd it!”

she screamed.

He made no reply, instead introducing his index finger into her tight hole, forcing her to stretch to accommodate his intrusion, knowing how that would incite her nerve endings, licking and teasing relentlessly until he felt her entire body convulse around him. She bucked and writhed, cried and moaned his name over and over as he milked the orgasm from her body, gently plunging his fingers, rasping his tongue over and over her clit until he felt the last muscular clenches fade away.

Meg couldn’t think. She’d fragmented again. He’d broken her into a thousand tiny pieces, and none of them would ever fit back together again. She couldn’t even see or acknowledge him as he moved up beside her to kiss her cheek, but she knew she needed to be away from him. It was the only, overriding thought in her mind, and before he could react, she bolted from the bed and locked herself in the bathroom, finally letting go of the fragile hold she’d had to sob brokenly with her arms around herself, alone at the vanity.

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Embraced

arrett couldn’t believe that he was in bed alone with his bride locked in the bathroom on their wedding Bnight. Wasn’t that just too clichéd for the nineties?

It’s not like she was afraid of the sex. Just the orgasms. Great. He could be a crappy, selfish lover who indulged in “man-on-top-get-it-over-with-quick” for the next sixty or so years, or he could find a way to keep his wife from running away whenever he pleasured her.

He chose the latter, but then, there really was no choice.

“Meg?” he tapped politely on the bathroom door. “Meg, open the door, Honey.” Barrett was determined to try the civilized approach first. It was as if she hadn’t heard him, neither the quality nor the volume of her sobs changed, and it was drove him crazy. She was sobbing as if he’d done something terrible to her, and he knew he hadn’t, but each cry tore at his heart regardless.

“Meagan?” in a more firm, warning tone. “Open the door.”

He rattled the knob.

Still no response.

He looked for an easy way in, but the hinges were on the inside, as was the locking mechanism. He guessed he could go get a screwdriver, but dammit, he didn’t want to. He wanted his wife warm and willing in his arms, sated and eager to spend the night in

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sensual ecstasy. Instead, he was faced with a solid door and a sobbing mate.

One last try. “Meagan O’Reilly Costas, open this door right now.” Nothing.

Ok, no more Mr. Nice Husband. Civilized behavior had had it’s shot, now it was time to do what he’d wanted to do from the beginning – take a page from John Wayne’s book in “The Quiet Man” and bust down the door, which, to Meg’s amazement, he did.

Without missing a step, he picked her up and threw her over his broad shoulder. Meg struggled and kicked, earning her a sharp smack on her bare bottom. Despite the anger she could sense in him, he set her down on the bed as if she were made of fine china.

She immediately crawled to the far side and almost got away again until she felt strong, thick fingers encircle her ankle and pull her slowly back to him.

“Let

me

go!”

He said nothing, just held her captive in his arms while she fought him and herself, shaking and coming close to cursing him, then finally collapsed, exhausted and spent. His mouth tickled her ear as he whispered, “I can see we’re going to need to establish some rules for you, Darling, one of the most important of which is that you are not to run away from me at any time, but most importantly not after an orgasm.”

“I –“ she began, but he shhhh’d her into silence.

“Did

I

hurt

you?”

“Y-yes, when you – when your –“

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Embraced

He nodded. “I know my finger hurt you, Baby, and I’m sorry. I mean, did the orgasm hurt you?”

As much as she wanted to lie to him, she couldn’t. “No.”

“But it frightened you?” Meg nodded vigorously. “When you’re scared, Meagan, I want you to run towards me, not away.

Do you understand?”

“Yes.” But that’s easier said than done, she thought.

His arms tightened just a bit. “I’m going to tell you, that the next time tonight – “

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.” There was no way that she, who was so supremely responsive, was not multi-orgasmic. “From now on, after you come if you get off our bed I will put you over my lap and blister your buns. Each and every time. I refuse to trail after you and haul you back to me constantly. I’m glad I’m able to give you hard orgasms, Sweetie. And I’m sorry that you find them so frightening. They shouldn’t be. They’re the most wonderful, intimate gifts I’ve ever received. And I understand that you need to cry. That’s fine. Just let me hold you while you do it. When you run from me, I feel like I must’ve split you end to end to get such a response. Makes me feel like an overgrown brute, and that’s the last thing I want to be with you.”

She had settled a lot, but her pussy still throbbed an ancient rhythm as she turned to face him. “I don’t know if I can obey you, Barrett, but I’ll try.” Meg kissed him and deliberately opened her legs to him in the same movement. He accepted the wordless invitation and settled his hard length against her still soaked pussy lips.

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Carolyn Faulkner

Their kisses deepened, and Barrett felt he would burst as he slowly pressed himself into her tight, moist sheath. “Oh, God, Meagan, I love you. I love the feel of you around me.” He ate at her mouth voraciously, penetrating both sets of her lips at the same time. Meg looked a little surprised and frightened as he loomed over her and invaded her body, making her mold to him. “Shhh-shhh-shhh, Baby,” he soothed. His size stretched her almost to the point of discomfort as he seated himself to the hilt, but the discomfort disappeared in the unexpected pleasure of being filled almost beyond capacity. The fine nerve endings inside her were rasped repeatedly by his movements, filled and empty, filled and empty, over and over her tightness expanded slowly and excitingly to accommodate the length and breadth of him.

Barrett forgot himself, losing his mind at the sensual clutch of her inner muscles around the most sensitive part of him. He was glad it wouldn’t take very many strokes for him to spill inside her, not wanting to make her any sorer by extended loveplay. As his own orgasm built, he plunged more forcefully, allowing his more possessive, male instincts to brand her as his come to the forefront.

And she was his. He alone had taken her so intimately, loved her with his mouth, and invaded her with his cock.

“Meeeeeaaaaaaagan!” he shouted her name at the moment of his orgasm, and drove into her with all of his might.

Meg held him as he collapsed on top of her, stroking his broad back, running her hands through his hair, kissing his sweaty cheek. When he would have rolled off her to give her more room to breath, mindful of his size, she kept him in place with her arms about his neck and her legs locked behind his, and a softly whispered, “Please don’t move.”

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Embraced

Still trying to catch his breath, he rose on his elbows.

“Aren’t I too heavy?”

Meg shook her head. “You’re just right. I like you on top of me.”

Barrett nuzzled her neck. “Mmmmmmm. That’s probably a good thing,” but he rolled off her anyway, taking her with him to cuddle her against his side. Meg’s cheek lay on a pillow of muscled shoulder.

They fell asleep in much the same position, but Meg found herself awakened several times during the night by her demanding, passionate husband, who brought her to a sensual peak over and over in a variety of ways. There were not more violent outbursts from her, just moans and finally screams of ecstasy as he wrung every iota of pleasure from her uninitiated body.

The next morning, Barrett woke her with a soft kiss, then noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He knew he had been part of their cause. They ate a quiet, subdued breakfast then headed in the limo to the airport to board the company jet for DC. After landing, they were met by another limo and driver, who took them on a quick tour of the city, pointing out the usual tourist spots. As Barrett’s company didn’t maintain apartments in the Capitol, they stayed at a luxury hotel instead, with a suite of rooms including a huge bedroom and a bathroom with sunken tub, much like their room at home.

He ordered a light lunch from room service as Meg wandered the suite, then slumped into a chair and yawn, “What are we doing today?”

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Carolyn Faulkner

Barrett squatted next to her chair and ran his fingers through her red gold hair possessively. “We’re going to eat lunch, then you’re going to take a nap, Angel.”

Meg’s lower lip protruded in a pout. “I don’t wanna take a nap. This is the first day of our honeymoon! I want to go somewhere, do something exciting.”

He couldn’t help but smile, she sounded like a petulant little girl. “That may be what you
want
to do, I’m telling you what you’re
going
to do, Meagan. You’ve got such big dark circles under your eyes from stress and lack of sleep they’re going to reach your knees any minute.” Barrett’s voice became stern. “I want you to nap this afternoon. We have plenty of time to see all the things we planned.”

She could barely keep her eyes open, but still wanted to argue with him. He pressed his finger to her lips and warned, “Not another word from you, or I’ll send you to bed to cry yourself to sleep with an empty stomach and a sore bottom.”

Lunch was equally as quiet as breakfast had been, and the truth of Meg’s exhaustion shown in her lack of appetite. Finally, he took her barely touched meal away and put it back on the room service tray, leading her by the hand into their bedroom. He stripped her down to nothing with very little protest from her, pulled the shades to darken the room, and tucked her under the sheets. She was asleep before he left the room.

Barrett made some quick phone calls, then joined her, feeling the letdown himself from all that worrying and planning, and Meg was the one who had done the majority of it. It had come off beautifully, and he knew he would have to remember to compliment her on it.

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Embraced

Several hours later, Meg awoke as something tickled her nose. It was a dark black chest hair whose owner was still fast asleep and snoring loudly. Her husband. She couldn’t quite believe it, but the gold band shone brightly on the third finger of his left hand as it lay upturned and vulnerable next to his dark head on the pillow. Impulsively, she rolled back the sheet to look at him, being extra careful not to wake him. He was a magnificent sight, all round, hard muscles beneath firm skin. She’d never seen him lift weights to maintain his physique, but apparently he didn’t need to. Must be genetic, she thought. His father had looked very much like Barrett, and so did Hayden, so there was the proof.

Heavily muscled chest and arms tapered to a thick but trim waist, the light sprinkling of hair became denser as it reached his hips, then continued darkly down his legs to his ankles. He was tanned, obviously someone who worked outdoors. She could see the occasional white scar, some smaller some bigger. Mandy had told her that he had once been gored much like Larry had earlier this summer, and she could see a ragged, pinkish scar across his flat stomach. Meg could also see that he was almost fully aroused, and wondered if most men slept that way.

Unable to stop herself, she touched him, figuring that if it woke him he wouldn’t be too unhappy about it. She’d wanted to touch him so often it hurt, but it always seemed that he was so intent on her pleasure, he forgot about himself. Meg didn’t really have any ideas about what he might like or not like, so she just let the tips of her fingers lie against his skin and trailed her hand delicately up from the fingers of one hand, across the breadth of his shoulders and down his side. Her touch raised goose bumps, and Barrett moaned and stretched, but didn’t move away.

His eyes opened and he smiled. “That feels soooooo good.”

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Carolyn Faulkner

It was all the encouragement she needed as he lay back and laced his fingers behind his head, giving her full rein to explore him in her own good time. Meg listened intently to every whimper, every moan, felt every shiver as exquisitely as if her were touching her, instead of vice versa. Barrett was determined to remain still under her tender ministrations, but it wasn’t easy, particularly when she began to concentrate her attention on his groin. He had been erect from the moment he awoke and was now in an almost painful state of arousal. Meg’s soft, tentative hand cupped him, then she wrapped her fingers around him delicately and began to move up and down. It was almost more than he could stand.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

She didn’t miss a beat, but sounded indignant. “I have not.