Embraced (15 page)

You’re the first naked man I’ve seen. I didn’t realize you’d be so soft!”

“Soft? I’m hard as a rock, woman!” it was his turn to sound indignant as he instinctively began to move his hips with the rhythm of her hand.

Meg loved making him react like this, and experimentally bent her head to take him in her mouth very lovingly and slowly, using her tongue to lave over the head of his penis as she settled down on him. Barrett groaned from the depth of his toes and clenched the bedsheets.

“Meg, my love, as much as I want you to continue this, I don’t think I have the patience at this point to let you experiment on me. It’s just too – “

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Meagan moved up to lay on his chest and shake her finger in his face. “See how I feel when I cry and run?”

She quickly found herself flipped underneath him, impaled in one swift movement that left her gasping and Barrett moaning as her warm wetness surrounded him. “I’m not about to run away from you, Sweetheart,” he breathed raggedly. “I’m much more interested in running INTO you,” and he proceeded to prove his point by hooking her legs over his arms, putting her into a more vulnerable, open position. Meg had absolutely no control over the depth of his thrusts, and Barrett, though mindful of her possible soreness, used his size to his advantage, driving himself into her tight passage only a few more times before he threw his head back and emit a guttural moan, pouring himself into her.

Barrett was barely functional as he rolled onto his side but reflexively cuddled her to him, having a hard time catching his breath. “Oh, man, Meg, you’re wonderful.” He pressed his lips to her forehead gently.

“I am?” she asked shyly.

“Yes,

you

are.”

“Thank you. So are you,” she complimented, beaming at his praise.

Although they had both napped for several hours, Barrett insisted that they take it easy for the rest of the day, though Meg chafed at his restrictions. They had dinner in the hotel dining room fairly early, then, around nine Barrett herded her back into bed, not wanting her to be overtired when they had a busy day planned tomorrow.

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Carolyn Faulkner

Meg pouted, but stayed tucked in where she was put. Here she was, a grown, married woman, being packed off to bed by her husband like a little girl. She was not a happy camper, but was truly was tired enough that when he joined her about 10:30, she was sound asleep, curled up on the edge of her side of the bed, as far away from him as she could get without sleeping on the floor.

Barrett smiled at her childish action, then hauled her to him, cupping her smaller, rounder body into his own broader, more muscular one. Although he was instantly capable with her fleshy bottom pressed against his manhood, he simply cuddled her, promising himself silently that he wouldn’t keep at her tonight like he had last night, and he was able to fulfill that promise, barely, awakening her at about seven the next morning with his mouth attached firmly to the love bud between her legs.

Meagan’s dream lover was doing the most wonderful things to her. She couldn’t contain her moans of ecstasy, and didn’t want to. After all, it was just a dream, wasn’t it? She awoke just as the peak took her, writhing and bucking against Barrett’s lips uncontrollably.

He moved very slowly up her body, keeping her legs wide apart, entering her slowly, inexorably, a centimeter at a time, forcing her to stretch for him, and rasping his steel hard length against the tenderest of her flesh. Although sated and tearful, Meg had to draw a full breath at the sensations he was causing. Barrett caught her eye and smiled a wicked smile, pressing just a bit further into her by a simple movement of his hips as he kept her gaze and laid the edge of his teeth to her left nipple.

Barrett kept the pace of his loving very relaxed and slow, a tempo that was driving Meagan crazy, as she knew she was very close to a second peak and he kept bringing her nearer then backing off, and almost there and back off. It was killing her. Had she

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been physically capable, she would have rolled him over and ridden him to her own fulfillment, but he was in total control, and she would just have to enjoy it until he decided to permit her pleasure.

Finally, his smile disappeared in the face of his own approaching peak, and he drove into her with a more forceful intent, releasing the flood of her orgasm just seconds before he found his. With his head buried next to hers on the pillow, he could feel the tears as they rolled out of her eyes and into her hair.

Barrett lifted his head to look at her; Meg’s eyes were clamped shut, but teardrops escaped through the corners anyway.

He kissed as many away as he could, then whispered “I’m going to get off now. Remember your rule.”

Meg hated that rule. She knew sometime, somehow, it was going to get her into trouble. He watched as she scooted to the position she’d been in last night, almost hanging over the edge of her side of the bed, sucking all those pent up emotions in, ruthlessly suppressing them instead of turning to him for comfort and letting it all out. Sighing, he reached out and touched her shoulder. Meg slapped his hand away, hard, and Barrett returned a smack in kind to her bare bottom, which she rubbed petulantly.

“Up and at ‘em, Angel-girl. We’ve got lots to see today.”

He was glad that, particularly after breakfast and coffee, her demeanor was normal and upbeat. They discussed where they wanted to go first and settled on the National Gallery to see the Impressionists, which Meg loved. Barrett could take them or leave them preferring Dali and Picasso, but he knew how much Meg enjoyed losing herself in the soft colors of a water lily painting by Monet or a ballet-inspired Degas. Throughout the morning in the museum, he spent more time watching his new wife and her total

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Carolyn Faulkner

absorption in the art than looking at it himself. His stomach started grumbling and he finally tore her away, promising her they could go back later on and see the rest.

Lunch was on the fly, as they spent the rest of the afternoon taking a walking tour of the Smithsonian, which was equally engrossing to the both of them. Barrett insisted on taking her out for a very nice dinner at one of his favorite restaurants in the area, which featured Thai cuisine. Meg was generally adventurous regarding food, and let Barrett order for them, then sampled each of the dishes he’d chosen.

Their night was filled with ecstasy that was becoming familiar, at least to him. Meg still had the occasional hard time dealing with her flagrant responses to him, but that didn’t deter him from rocking her with repeated orgasms, wrung from her sometimes in protest, but always lovingly compelled.

Days passed in a flurry of activity – they hit all the usual tourist sites – Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, the Capitol building – then expanded outward and spent a day at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, visiting the National Aquarium and eating their way through the food malls before taking in a game at Camden Yard and stuffing themselves with lemon ice and hot dogs.

The only thing Meg drew the line at was the National Zoo, which she refused to go to on an animal rights basis. She told Barrett that he could go by himself and she’d revisit the National Gallery, but he wasn’t about to let her wander around DC by herself, and it wasn’t that important to him, although he did point out to her that she was being a hypocrite, being that she owned a cattle ranch, and what did she think happened to all those cows?

They had a good, open argument about animal rights, which had Barrett enjoying himself enormously. He liked to argue, and

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was glad she didn’t back down from him when she felt strongly about something. Their occasional philosophical arguments reinforced his feeling that he’d been right to marry her. She fit him emotionally and intellectually as well as physically.

They did some sightseeing in Virginia and Pennsylvania, doing day trips to Gettysburg and Williamsburg before going to Florida to indulge Barrett’s love of amusement parks by single-handedly funding the next Disney animated feature – at least that’s what it seemed to Meg it must’ve cost them between staying in the park and all of the other money they spent – and, hell, they didn’t even have children – yet.

That had been a topic of one of their late night discussions, in sensual glow of the aftermath, they discussed children, which they both wanted. But not yet, Barrett had said firmly. He wanted some time with her alone, as a couple, before they brought anybody into the equation. So she would stay on the pill for at least a year and half, two years or so. To himself, he figured that it would probably take at least that amount of time for her to get settled into the relationship – to learn what he expected of her and what she could expect of him. He was certain the first six months or so was going to be hard on the two of them – her bottom and his hand.

But he knew that eventually, she’d settle into it and the frequency of punishments would diminish.

The closest she came during the entire time to getting a spanking was toward the end of their stay at Disneyworld. He was glad to see that she didn’t react violently to an orgasm each and every time, but if there was any amount of build-up or it had been a few days since she came, it was almost inevitable that she would try to get as far away from him as possible while shaking and crying out her orgasm.

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After one particularly savage peak, Meg had faced him, holding her arms around herself as he wished he were doing, as she cowered on the edge of the bed, hanging one foot inches from the carpeting. “Don’t do it,” he warned in a soft tone. “You don’t want to earn yourself a bottom blistering on your honeymoon, Darlin’. It would be awfully uncomfortable to sit on on all those rides and in the car and everything.” Barrett held his arms open to her, offering her the solace of his arms, but she couldn’t accept it.

He was the cause of her turmoil.

She had almost decided to defy him when he tackled her from behind and subdued her easily against him, the muscular band of his arms absorbing her puny struggles as if they didn’t exist. He whispered soothing nothings, talking to her as if she were a skittish filly, and as he continued to rumble love words into her ear, a very deep, intrinsic part of herself responded to his firm, loving tone and she stopped fighting him.

“That’s my baby, shhhhhh,” he soothed, turning her onto her back and settling into her possessively. Barrett was of a mind that when she was this scared and uncontrollable, it was good for her to accept him completely, submitting her body to his reinforced their true bond.

The last day of their honeymoon was spent accomplishing absolutely nothing of any value. They lay around the pool, went out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, then indulged in a little dancing at one of the area nightclubs. For a large man, Barrett was extremely graceful and a very good dancer. Meg had danced very little, and was very self-conscious, but she let him guide her through the steps, enjoying the feel of his body close to hers and the tender care with which he held her.

The next morning, they reluctantly boarded the company plane and flew back to the real world, where a limo met them at the

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airport to take them back to the ranch. Mandy was nowhere to be found when they got home, but barks and whines greeted them from two eager pups instead. Meg got her things unpacked, then started on Barrett’s stuff, when he came into their room to do just that he found she was almost done.

He caught her from behind and drew her back against him, nuzzling her ear. “Thank you for unpacking for me, wife.”

Meg craned her head to one side and kissed his lips.

“You’re welcome, husband.”

“I love you, Mrs. Costas.”

“I love you too, Mr. Costas.”

And they lived happily ever after . . . well, as happily every after as her naughtiness and his dominance allowed, which was very happy, indeed.

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he was testing him, and he knew it. He acknowledged the fact as he fiddled with the papers Son his desk while Meagan waited, fidgeting on the couch, for him to initiate the ritual that would end with her vulnerable, naked bottom up over his broad lap.

Discipline-wise, it had not been an easy first month and a half of marriage. One thing Barrett hadn’t counted on was how often she was going to try to push the limits he set for her. He didn’t consider himself an unreasonable man, and couldn’t see how the few rules he enforced were that big a deal. Meg’s rules were very much like Mandy’s – normal, average common sense stuff –

don’t speed. Don’t swear. Don’t smoke. Don’t even THINK

about using drugs or abusing alcohol. If you’re going to be late, fine. Call and let someone know. And Meg’s one additional rule –

when you’ve just experienced an earth-shattering orgasm, don’t run away from the man who gave it to you. She had the most annoying tendency to run away from him if an orgasm was particularly hard.

He could handle that she usually cried afterwards. That was ok, he just cuddled her till the storm was over. Or comforted her while he sank himself deep inside her.

But it was downright insulting to have Meg running like he’d poured scalding water on her rather than brought her to the heights of ecstasy. Kinda hurt his feelings, it did, and one of the

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first rules he set for her was that she was not to set a foot on the carpet afterwards, no matter how much she wanted to. Since they’d arrived home from their month long honeymoon, he’d had to tan her fanny three times for it; it didn’t look like that rule was ever going to sink into that thick, stubborn skull of hers. But he was a patient man.