Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (26 page)

I never compared her to Willow. Not for a second. Willow was a kid with a warped idea of what love is. She didn't
have
a kid she had to protect.

But it's not like my mother asked her boyfriend to hit her.

It's not like it was her fault.

Of course Willow empathizes.

She's a good person. A hell of a lot better person than I am.

She looks up at me. "Maybe I'm wrong about Liberty, but she really seems like she's turned her life around. And she really seems sorry and like she wants to know you now. If you think you'll get something out of hearing how much she regrets what happened... then yeah, you should meet her. But if it's only going to stir up old pain, then I'll tell her it's not happening." She traces the handle of her coffee cup. "I only want to help close that wound that still hurts you."

What the hell is she talking about?

"You still don't quite believe you're worthy of love." She scoots closer. "Which is ridiculous, because you're the greatest person I've ever met."

"Must not have met many people."

"I've met enough." She rests her head on my shoulder. Her voice is low, needy. "I still can't believe my luck that you're my husband."

I run my fingers through her hair until she's purring. "Okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. But not a surprise this time."

She nods.

"No more surprises unless they involve you naked."

"What about me in lingerie?" she teases.

"I can live with that." Getting all sorts of fucking ideas about that.

"I'll arrange it later. For the day after tomorrow." She looks up at me. "You're all mine tomorrow."

"What if someone else needs me?"

"Too bad. I need you." She presses her lips to my cheek. "I'll lock you in this room if I have to."

Can't complain about my wife locking us in our hotel room.

Fuck, I should throw away the key right now.

"Sounds like it's a plan." She smiles. "I suppose you'll need your strength. You should eat."

I do.

We talk about nothing as we finish breakfast. I'm about ready to practice being locked in this room when there's a knock on the door.

Room service always announces themselves.

So who is that?

"I'll get it." Willow pushes herself up. She cinches her robe then answers.

Of course, it's my brother and his fiancée. They have that just-fucked look about them.

The always have that just-fucked look about them.

Pete smiles at Willow. "Told you it would be fine."

She nods. "Thanks for your help."

Jess brushes her blond hair behind her shoulder. "Hey Tom, Willow. You look cozy. Sorry about before." She blushes.

"Don't worry about it, baby." Pete slides his arm around her waist and pulls her closer. "Only gave Willow ideas." He winks.

Now, Willow is blushing.

Pete chuckles. He's too good at this shit.

"We're meeting Mom for dinner tonight. You guys have to come," Pete says. "After you
come
."

"Why are you so interested in other people's sex lives?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm the one overly invested in other people's lives." Pete shakes his head. He looks to Willow. "You believe this shit?"

"He might have a point here, sweetie," Jess says.

"That's cold. You gonna make that up to me?" he asks.

"You guys want something besides exhibitionist thrills?" I ask.

"Love you too." Pete blows me a kiss.

Willow looks at me. "I think they want to confirm this dinner thing."

"Yeah. Dinner. Sure," I say.

"Be nice." Willow mouths,
please
. "I went to Pete when I couldn't find you. He knew where you'd be."

Shit, guess I do owe him one. Hate to admit that relationships have stolen a lot of the time my brother and I used to spend together. Last few months were the first time we'd lived apart since Ophelia adopted him.

"Thanks for that," I say.

He replies with his usual nod. "One more thing." He reaches for something—a shiny pink gift bag, the same shade as Willow's hair.

Jess claps her hands together. "It does match really well." She smiles. "This is for you guys." She turns back to him. "An early Christmas present?"

He chuckles. "Yeah."

"Enjoy." She hands it to Willow then turns back to Pete. "Can my early Christmas present be you wearing your glasses twenty-four seven?"

He shakes his head. "They'll get in the way."

She murmurers something and presses her lips to his.

Okay, that's enough of that.

"Come on, kid. They'll do this all day." I motion for Willow to come inside then I nod goodbye to Pete and Jess. "It's how they get their jollies."

She laughs, but she still nods goodbye and closes the door.

Willow sets the hot pink gift back on the table.

"Is it from Pete or both of them?" I ask.

She looks at it. "No card. Hard to say."

Damn. Not sure I want to know what it is if it's from him. But there's no time like the present. "Open it."

She smiles. "Yay, I love gifts!"

I laugh. God damn, I love the joy in her expression.

She pulls the hot pink tissue from the bag, reaches inside, and pulls out a box.

A box of bondage restraints.

Oh fuck.

She pulls a sticky note off the front and reads it. "Trust me, you don't want your old restraints back." Willow laughs. "Not that I doubted he was using them."

I raise a brow.

She shakes her head. "Nothing important." She studies the box. It's a full kit—blindfold, handcuffs, under the bed restraints. "I know I was skittish about it at first, but if you want to tie me up, I'm game."

She looks up at me and her eyes light up.

Fuck, my cheeks are burning.

Her mouth drops open. "You're blushing."

"Yeah."

"You never blush."

God damn, I am blushing. My cheeks are burning.

"Why?" She moves closer. "You're not shy about
anything
."

She's right. I'm not shy about anything. Usually.

But right now, my gaze won't budge from the floor. "I don't want to tie you up. I'm not against the idea. Not at all. But I..." I clear my throat. "I want you to tie me up."

She gasps.

Her eyes are as big as the fucking moon.

I run my hand through my hair. God damn, this must be how other people feel all the time, all nervous and vulnerable. It would be awful with anybody else. But with her, it's tolerable. It's almost nice. "If you're into it."

God damn it, I must be red. I finally manage to look my wife in the eyes. Her face is lit up with enthusiasm. She bites her lip.

Her pupils dilate. "I want to."

"You sure?"

Her voice lifts. "Positive. You want to do it now?"

Fuck, I'm already getting hard. I nod. "Now is good."

Her gaze goes to my crotch. "Now is very good."

––––––––

W
illow

The woman staring back at me in the mirror is some other version of myself. Her eyes are lined with black. Her lips are red. Her black lingerie does amazing things to her broad shoulders and slim hips.

The woman is a sex goddess.

I'm a sex goddess.

Or at least, I want to be one. Tom always makes me feel like the sexiest woman in the universe, but usually, he's the one leading. Usually, he insists on it.

This time, I'm leading. I'm more than leading. I'm tying him to the bed and... well, I'm not sure what I'm doing after that.

I stare back into the mirror. I'm going to tie my husband to the bed and have my way with him.

I can do that.

My heart is beating hard enough I can feel it in my fingertips. I'm not sure I know how to do this. It can't be
that
complicated. Cassandra passed down a lot of trashy books. I skimmed the bondage scenes—I didn't exactly have a positive experience with a man forcing me to submit—but I got the gist of them.

It's not really about force. The submissive partner gets off on losing control, but he's the one in charge of the scenario. The dominant partner has to read him, to make sure he's getting off.

I'm not sure I'll be any good at it, but I want to try.

I want Tom to have every bit of pleasure in the world.

There's something appealing about the thought of him bending to my command. Usually, he's in charge of the entire universe. If I'm in charge of him... commanding the King of the Universe is a lot of power.

I check my reflection one more time for good measure. There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I look hot.

I can do this.

I really, really want to do this.

Deep breath.

I make my way to the bedroom. The lights are off but the curtains are open. The sun—it's already mid-afternoon—streams in through the windows. I can see the mountains off in the distance. They're red, burnt orange even, against the bright blue sky.

The serenity of the view assures me.

The room is empty except for the bed, and that's got nothing on it but sheets, restraints, and Tom.

He's sitting at the edge of the bed, in his boxers, his feet planted on the floor. His eyes are on me. His eyes are wide with this amazing mix of enthusiasm and lust.

He presses his palms into the bed. He's already getting hard.

Damn, how I want that.

I want to watch his eyes roll back in his head as he comes.

I'm in control. I get to decide when he comes. And he doesn't come until I'm done enjoying the ride.

Heat pools in my core. I'm not sure if I can pull this off, but I'm starting to like the thought of it.

A lot.

"You sure about this?" I ask.

"Fuck yeah." He looks me up and down. "You look hot."

"I know." I slide into his lap, my knees planted outside his hips. I look
him
up and down. His lips are parted. His green eyes are hungry. I need that hunger. All of it. I make my voice confident. I'm in charge. "Kiss me."

His kiss is so intense I forget to breathe.

I can feel him getting harder. I grind my crotch against his as I slide my tongue around his. Dammit, that feels good.

I kiss him until I can't take it anymore. Then I take his hands and bring them to my chest. "Take off my bra." My voice is half-whisper, half-command.

Still, he obliges me. He groans as he slides my bra off my shoulders.

I bring my mouth to his ear, breathing hot and cold until he shudders. "Touch me."

I can't tie him up until he's touched me properly.

Tom's eyes stay on mine as he plays with my chest. There's no teasing today. He goes right to what he knows I like. His thumbs brush against my nipples lightly. Then harder. Harder.

Perfect.

I groan. "Don't stop."

Every touch sends another wave of pleasure to my core. It’s hard to believe I'm the one in charge when he's playing me like an instrument.

I let my eyes close and soak in sensations of his hands on my chest, his body against mine, his hard cock under me.

Tension builds in my core. It's difficult to think about anything but how badly I need to come.

I take his hand and slide it down my torso, into my panties. Then his finger is brushing against my clit, and it feels so good I can't think at all.

I can't lose control yet. I'm the one in charge.

I have to give him an order.

"Make me come," I breathe.

He rubs me with his index and middle finger. No teasing here either. He goes right to the spot that always gets me off.

I'm already close. I squeeze my legs. My inner thighs press against his hips. There's not much room for his hand to maneuver, but it's not doing anything to slow him down.

Tension knots in my core. So fucking close.

I bring my hand to Tom's hair and I tug. "Fuck, Tom."

Then I'm there. The tension hits a fever pitch, and it releases. My sex pulses as pleasure spreads to my limbs.

I revel in the aftershocks of my orgasm for a moment. That's enough for me. It's his turn.

I push him onto the bed. My hands go to his hips. It's a lot messier than when he does this, but I manage to get his boxers off his feet in one gesture.

He's already shaking. Already needy. Already fucking hard.

The under the bed restraints are more hardcore than the wrist cuffs, but the way he's spread over the bed is inviting.

I take one cuff and secure it around his ankle. He lets out a low groan as I secure his other ankle. The cuff is loose enough it won't cut off his circulation but tight enough he can't get out of it.

He looks up at me with a needy expression. "Fuck, Willow."

I press my lips to his ankle, just above the cuff. My eyes stay on his as I kiss my way up his leg. All the way to his inner thigh.

Then I've got to focus on my task at hand.

He groans as I flick my tongue against him.

Again.

Again.

I take him into my mouth, only the tip, and I play with his piercing with my tongue.

He tastes good. He always does.

His body takes over. His hands go to my hair. He tugs at it, holding me in place. But today, he doesn't get to do that.

I pull back and kiss my way up his torso. His hard body feels good against my lips. But it's more than his six-pack, or his chiseled chest, or his soft skin.

It's Tom.

My husband.

My everything.

I plant my knees outside his chest and reach for the left cuff. There. I grab it and start to secure his left wrist.

His right hand goes to my hips. He pulls my body over his, pulling my crotch over his mouth.

His tongue flicks against my clit. Hard to turn that down, but
I'm
in control.

I press my hands into his shoulders and push myself back. My eyes find his. "Not until I give you permission."

"Fuck." His pupils dilate. He just barely nods.

I work to secure his other wrist and spend a moment taking it in. He's tied to the bed, completely bound, completely under my control.

He's giving me all his trust.

The thrill of that has my body buzzing. I wasn't sure I deserved his trust after this morning, but he forgave me.