Afterward, we don’t speak.
I don’t know if he’s feeling as emotionally raw as I am or if he simply has nothing to say, but he rolls off me and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
The faucet runs. The toilet flushes. He reappears carrying a wet washcloth and a hand towel. He silently pushes me onto my back and wipes the washcloth gently between my legs as I lie there feeling as if all my bones have turned to liquid.
He dries me off with the hand towel, then rises and flips off the light switch. Then he crawls onto the mattress beside me, rolls me to my side, pulls me against his chest, and buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.
When he exhales, it sounds as if a hundred years of pent-up frustrations leave his body in the same breath.
Eventually, his breathing slows to a deep, even cadence that tells me he’s asleep.
I lie there in the dark enveloped in his warmth and think about Michael.
Was I a good wife?
I don’t know. I tried to be. More than anything, I wanted to make him happy. He wanted me to be happy, too, and I thought we were perfect for each other. All our jagged little pieces matched. We fit.
But our relationship was nothing like this.
I know it’s unfair to make comparisons. I also know it’s unfair that I lied to Aidan about being separated from my husband instead of simply telling him the truth.
But he caught me off guard. I had no idea anything even remotely like this would happen. I wasn’t prepared for the extent of our attraction, for the force of it, for the way I’m drawn to him with an intensity I feel strangely powerless to resist.
And so I simply let him believe Michael was still alive. Part of me wants to believe it as well. Part of me wants to believe this isn’t the truth:
My husband is dead.
He fell off our boat and drowned.
I watched it happen.
Maybe I haven’t told Aidan about it because I don’t want to relive that last part. The splashing and the screaming. Michael’s desperate cries for help growing weaker as the boat drifted farther and farther away.
The smell of smoke over the dark water and the awful, brittle laughter that seemed to come from everywhere all around.
I didn’t tell the detective who interviewed me after the accident about the laughter. It’s not exactly something I can explain.
I must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing I know, the room is light and Aidan’s big hand is gently stroking my bottom. He’s still behind me in the same position he was when he fell asleep.
He murmurs, “Morning, sweet bunny. Sleep well?”
Turning my head toward him, I inhale and stretch my legs, curling my toes. “I think so. You?”
He presses a kiss to my nape. His hand drifts over my hip and down between my legs. “Like the dead.”
“Hmm. That big hard thing poking into my tailbone doesn’t feel very dead.”
He chuckles. “You can’t blame him. He’s got a beautiful naked woman in his bed.”
When he slips his fingers inside my pussy and strokes them over my clit, I sigh in pleasure.
“I’m obsessed with that sound,” he says, his voice darker. “With all the sounds you make. I can’t get enough of you, Kayla.”
He bites me on the shoulder. It’s not hard, but it is dominant. Like something an animal would do before it mounts its mate.
“You’re shivering.”
“It’s not from cold.”
“I know, baby. Time to sit on my face.”
My eyes fly open. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. And from now on, I expect you to obey an order the first time I give it.”
My heartbeat surges. I lie still with my mind going a million miles an hour until I venture hesitantly, “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to think I’m being, um, disobedient. I’m just trying to figure out the rules.”
He kisses my shoulder, then my neck. Actually, kissing isn’t really what he’s doing. It’s more like licking and sucking. As if he’s tasting my skin and finds it delicious.
Nipping my earlobe, he whispers, “Ask your master for permission to speak.”
Oh God. Oh dear holy God in heaven, this is actually happening.
He! Just! Said! That!
Calmly lavishing my shoulders and neck with his lips and tongue, Aidan lazily strokes his fingers back and forth over my clit, which is now achingly sensitive. My nipples are, too. So is my entire nervous system, which feels as if it’s about to explode.
Hyperventilating, I whisper, “May I please have permission to speak…master?”
His voice low and hypnotic, he says, “Yes, my perfect, pretty bunny rabbit. You may.”
Then he presses his teeth to the side of my throat and slides a finger inside me.
My cry of pleasure is soft and broken. It takes me a moment to remember what the hell I was going to say. “I…I don’t know exactly what you mean by sit on your face.”
“It’s not rocket science.”
“Yes, but I mean, logistically, how does it work? Do I, like, brace my hands against the wall for balance?”
He sounds surprised. “You’ve never done it before?”
“No. And I don’t want to smother you.”
His laughter is muffled against my skin. Then he groans. “Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet, I just want to sink my teeth into every inch of you.”
“You’re doing a pretty good job of that so far.”
He rolls me to my back and cups my face in his hand. Gazing intently down at me, he says, “What else haven’t you done?”
“Everything that doesn’t include missionary or doggie style with the lights out. Oh, and oral. But nothing…”
“What?”
My cheeks are heating up, damn them. “Kinky.”
“Define kinky.”
“I think you know what I mean, mister.”
He’s trying not to laugh at me. Pressing his lips together, his eyes alight, he shakes his head. “It’s master or sir. No misters. I’ll give you one free pass, but next time, disrespect will earn you a spanking.”
I smile up at him. “You say that like you don’t already know I love it when you give me a spanking.”
He stares at me in silence for a moment, his laughter fading. Then his voice comes out rough.
“I wish you knew how perfect you are. How different and perfect. I’ve never met anyone like you. Whenever we’re together, I feel like a new man. A better man. Like everything bad that’s ever happened to me doesn’t matter anymore because your sweet smile takes it all away.”
Warmth washes over me. It seems as if the sky just opened up, and I’m being bathed in a brilliant ray of sunshine from head to toe. Feeling shy, I whisper, “What a nice thing to say. Thank you.”
He stares at me, his gaze moving slowly over my features, then he kisses me deeply, his hand still cupped around my face.
Against my mouth, he murmurs, “I’m gonna lie on my back, and you’re gonna straddle my face, baby. Don’t worry about smothering me. I’ll hold you up. Ready?”
Shimmering with need and embarrassment, I whisper, “Yes, sir.”
When he exhales with the faintest of moans, I know I’ve pleased him.
It frightens me how much I suddenly want to please him again.
He rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him, clasping his hands around my waist. He urges me up toward the wall, so I climb forward on my hands and knees as he scoots lower down the mattress. When my knees are on either side of his head, he pulls me down by my hips until my pussy hovers right above his mouth and I’m looking down between my spread legs at him.
He warns, “Don’t come until I give you permission,” and latches onto my clit with his mouth.
I gasp. My thighs quiver. My lids flutter shut. He stabilizes me by gripping my hips, then reaches up around my hips with both hands and squeezes my breasts. He fondles my breasts and pinches my nipples as he licks my pussy, and I doubt my head will ever be set on straight again.
When I moan softly, he takes one hand away from my breast and slaps me on the ass. It’s hard and stings, and I love it.
I flatten my hands against the mattress and lock my elbows. I flex my hips against Aidan’s mouth. He makes a soft sound of approval, so I flex my hips again.
He pulls on my hard nipple and slaps my ass, making me groan loudly in pleasure.
“Fuck my mouth,” he orders. “Ride my face, baby. Don’t make me tell you again.”
Okey dokey, sir.
I grind my pussy against his face, laughing breathlessly when he shoves his tongue deep inside me. The laughter dies quickly because his mouth feels so damn good. I stop worrying that I might smother him and really get into it, concentrating on the feel of his hot, wet mouth between my legs and his calloused fingers pinching my nipple and digging into my hips.
A sharp contraction of my uterus makes me moan.
Still playing with my nipple, Aidan slides a finger inside me and sucks my clit with more force.
I whisper raggedly, “Oh. Aidan. Oh God, that feels amazing.”
“You need to come?”
“Yes, please.”
“Not yet.”
He eats me until I’m moaning brokenly, my thighs are shaking hard, and I’m certain I’ll fall over before I can climax. Then he drags his fingernails down my back, shoulder blades to ass cheeks, and laughs into my flesh when I shudder.
“You need to come, baby?”
“Yes! Please!”
“Then you better earn it.”
Before I can decipher what that might mean, he pulls me down by the hips, forcing me to crawl backward a foot or so. Then he flips around beneath me, positioning himself on his back so his hard cock juts up toward my mouth and my knees are on either side of his head again.
He orders, “Suck my cock, bunny,” and buries his face in my pussy.
I grasp his erection in one hand and lower my head to lick the crown. Aidan hums in pleasure, a sound that vibrates deliciously through my pelvis. Then he flattens a hand on the small of my back and forces me to lie on his stomach, skin to skin, as he lavishes my pussy with his tongue and I suck on his dick.
He thrusts up into my mouth. I flex my hips against his tongue. We’re both moaning and frantic, our skin slick with sweat, and if he doesn’t give me permission to come soon, I will anyway.
When I make a high, whining noise in the back of my throat, he knows I can’t hold out any longer.
“Swallow my cum, then you have my permission to orgasm,” he says, panting. “But not before. You ready?”
I make a desperate sound of assent around his hard cock and keep sucking and sliding my hand up and down his shaft.
“Good girl.”
Swirling his tongue around and around my engorged clit, he thrusts up into my mouth, stretching my lips open until my eyes are watering and I’m fighting the urge to gag. Then he grabs the back of my neck and squeezes it.
He climaxes with a grunt, spilling hot semen onto my tongue in thick pulses.
I suck and swallow over and over again, breathing through my nose, my entire body trembling. Still gripping the back of my neck, Aidan spanks my ass three times, hard, then shoves a finger deep inside my pussy.
Choking on his cock, I convulse around his finger.
“That’s my perfect good girl,” he growls, thrusting with his hips, driving his cock deeper down my throat. “Swallow every fucking drop as you come for me.”
Blind with pleasure, helplessly jerking, I sob around his erection and do as I’m told.
He praises me with words I hear but don’t understand. I’m somewhere far off, hurtling through space, my mind ablaze with fireworks, my body utterly beyond my control.
I’m a stranger to myself at this moment. Someone with no limits and no worries, a woman at once perfectly at peace, yet completely astonished by her actions.
He’s pulled a string I didn’t know I had hidden inside and unraveled me from the inside out.
Then he flips me onto my back, tosses my ankles up over his shoulders, shoves his still-hard cock inside me, and unravels me all over again.
