Finding Their Balance (21 page)

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Authors: M.Q. Barber

BOOK: Finding Their Balance
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“What lovely eagerness, flashing an exquisite, hidden beauty.” Voice soft, he clamped his legs around her with punishing pressure.

Her leaping joy nearly dislodged her new toy.

“But we want to stretch your pretty holes gently, not tempt me to bury myself.”

Christ, he’d fucking kill her. Torture her with waiting. “I like when you bury yourself.”
Please. Please-please-please.

“You like me here.” He sank his thumb into her pussy.

“Yesss.” Her moan filled the room.

“A proper introduction will have you begging for me here as well.” Ending his circling tease, his finger slick and stiff, he entered her ass.

She offered no resistance, only surrender and acceptance—and mute astonishment as his knuckle bumped her with the pressure and pleasure behind his steady thrust. Jesus,
fuck.

He’d buried himself all right, his thumb in her pussy and his finger in her ass, his hand stuffed between her clenching cheeks.

Thrusting blindly, she scrabbled for purchase on the sheet to leverage herself deeper on him.

He chuckled, gruff and throaty. “You feel magnificent to me, dearest.” As he squeezed, her rhythmic contractions rolled in from all sides. “But tell me how
you
feel.”

“Owned.” Like a stress ball he commanded and shaped. Utterly his to play with as he would. “Naughty.” Filled and dying for more, she blazed with the illicit thrill. “In all the best ways.”

“Good girl.” Digging his free hand into her ass cheek, he growled. “My sweet Alice. Unsurpassed perfection, fucking yourself on my hand.”

Fuck, she was. She’d started tilting up and down, experimenting with the depth of his hold from either side. And her new toy waited. She’d take more soon, play with bigger toys and graduate to the fullness Jay savored, Henry prodding them to accept him inside.

“Stretch your arms over your head.” As he pumped one-handed, he spread her ass in the other. Watching her, maybe. Anticipating as she did. “Wrap your hands around the headboard.”

Shuddering, she gripped the spindles. Solid wood in her palms and soft silk under her cheek.

He stretched, too, sliding his thumb free.

She whined at the loss.

“You want to come for me, don’t you, Alice?” He pulled his finger back. “To show me you enjoy this game?”

“I do.” Pulse racing, she hovered on the cusp. “I want to.”

Drops of lube fell, scattered, and she trembled. Thicker pressure, but not her toy, not yet, because that sleek weight rested at the base of her spine.

Henry, humming appreciation, sank two fingers in her ass and thumbed her clit. “Every inch of you is mine, Alice. Inside and out. You have the leverage you need, your strong grip on the headboard.” He thrust his fingers deep. “Your strong grip on me.”

Buzzing in her ears and tingling in her toes threatened to split every atom in her body.

“That’s it, good girl. Show me.”

Fucking herself on him, she jolted with each swipe against her clit. Dug her hands into the rails and shoved back harder.

“Take your climax and show me how much choosing this excites you. Show me you want it again, and again, and I’ll put your new toy where it belongs.”

Lightning sizzled. The room went white. In her clamping release, she found emptiness on one side and fullness opposite. As she shook, he nudged her thighs apart and drove her knees wide, holding her open with his legs. The weight on her spine disappeared.

A magic trick. Her new toy rested where his fingers had with no more than gentle pressure in the midst of explosive pleasure. Drawing the metal deeper, she mapped its shape inside her as she had in her hand.

“Wondrous,” Henry murmured. Her toy began slipping away. “Shall we play tug-o-war?”

Fuck no, he wouldn’t steal her plug that fast. In one fast, tight pull, she regained smooth control.

Chuckling, he tugged again. He’d promised her this toy, and now he kept trying—

“Training.” As she flexed and grasped, the plug made sensations real, gave her a focus better than any imagining. “This game is practice.”

The plug waggled up and down, sending vibrations inside her and plucking her clit. A nod in her lover’s hands.

“Such a quick mind and a competitive spirit you have.” With bumping knuckles, he brushed her cheeks on either side of the slender handle. “We might add another layer of difficulty. A bonus round.” He wedged the blunt head of his cock between her labia.

Oh fuck yes.
Seeking his thick heat, she wiggled backward.

With teasing swipes, he coated her in her own slickness. Wielding his cock with confidence, brisk and slow, rubbing and flicking, he remained always out of reach. He jostled her toy. “This is a mere placeholder. An invitation readying you for my possession.”

She whined her impatience, dropping her head and pulling on the headboard. He hadn’t given her permission to move her hands. Hair shrouding her face, she closed her eyes. Nothing to see but the dark sheet in any case, and she had better senses in her arsenal.

Her nose, buried in the sheet, brought her their mingled scents, citrus and leather and fainter traces of Jay’s sweet, woody musk. Her ears captured Henry’s purring growl. Her skin sang with input. The roughness of his legs, spreading her wide. The probing tip of his cock, firm but gentle. The squeeze of one broad hand on her ass. The warm weight inside her revealing its shape with her every contraction. Shivering, sensitized need rose, humming through her veins.

“What say you, Alice?” Holding her toy in place, he plunged and claimed the rest of her with his cock. “Will you tug doubly hard for me?”

Stuffed. Fuller in front than behind, but oh so deliciously owned. The heat overwhelmed, as if she sweated out a fever. Her body contracted without consultation.

Henry, groaning, pumped deeper. “Do that again, mischievous minx.”

Controlling the motion fell beyond her ability. But obeying him on instinct—her body never failed her in that goal. The flickers in her belly drove flames low and spreading, a leaping wildfire determined to win this tug-o-war. A single pull for a double reward, her lover and her toy buried, her body molding to their intractable demand.

“Do you know yet why I’ve chosen this toy for you, dearest?” His voice held the rough burr of strain.

Sized for a beginner. Easy to clean. The lessons he’d taught as she’d played with Jay unrolled in her head. The shape, though—strawberryish in three dimensions. A spade in two. And he’d always called their fun a game. “A spade.” But he’d choose for deeper reasons. Aesthetics. Meaning. “I don’t—” Fuck, his thrust knocked her mind off course. “I don’t know why.”

“The ace of spades.” He drew back. “The highest card in the deck. Extremely valuable.”

Shoving hard and squeezing, she pulled him in. Maybe she’d manage not to lose her grip before he lost his.

He drove her harder, hips slamming, his swaying balls slapping her center. “But it’s a matter of perspective, isn’t it?”

“Per-perspective?” Fuck, she’d lost. Or won. Whatever outcome the shaking in her thighs portended as heat blazed a path to her curling toes and clenching fingers.

“Just so.” Harsh breaths split his words. “Those wide, curving lobes and sleek pointed tip.” Groaning, he gave two sharp thrusts. “Viewed from the opposite side, a spade is—”

“A heart.” Snaking under her skin, the bonfire exploded in a supernova with two brilliant centers. They burned together, atomized in endless white-hot pleasure.

* * * *

“Let go.” With heavy strokes, Henry rubbed her knuckles. “Come back to Earth with me, sweet girl.”

Mmph
ing agreement, she jerked her hands open. The headboard spindle’s imprint decorated her flesh. Death grip, Christ.

Bent over her like armor shaped for her alone, he
tsk
ed. “You played well this morning. Well and hard.” With soft lips swift and dancing on her red-lined palms, he soothed her aches. “You threw yourself into our game with ease and excitement and much less fear.”

“My fears seem silly now. This was—is—amazing.” Though he’d slipped free while pleasure locked her in a feedback loop, her toy rested snug inside her, a constant reminder of his plans for her.

“Not silly. A necessary step in your growth.” Folding their arms around her, he brushed her forehead with a kiss. “Your progression is a gift, Alice. One I am privileged to watch and to guide.” With nudges and rolls, he righted her beneath him.

Her ass hit the fitted sheet.
Holy fuck
. The plug handle bounced against the mattress, shifting the metal inside her and dear God in heaven when she squirmed just right—

Henry broke out a Jay-sized grin. “You ought to see your eyes, dearest. Widen them any farther, and I’m terribly afraid they’ll wander off somewhere.” Nipping her bottom lip, he ended on a sharp tug. “Though I’m quite fond of your open-mouthed joy in discovery. Very enticing.”

“God, Henry.” She lacked the romantic words for this experiment, but he’d interpret. “Equal and opposite reaction, I can’t even—I don’t want the ripples to stop.”

“Had I begun with this game last summer, your fears would have cast the experience in an unpleasant light.” He dropped a kiss on her jaw. Warm and supple, his lips. Thoughtful and generous, his mind. “You might have come to see this pleasure as a chore to be dreaded. An obligation rather than an act of love. But now…” Falling silent, he raised his head and stared at her, his eyes a deep pine forest of adventure and rapture.

“Now I’ll ask for it. For”—his cock—“greater pleasures.”

“Exactly right.” With one intense kiss, he bathed her in longing fulfilled and the promise of more. “Off to the shower. It’s time we begin our day.”

Every ass-bouncing step stretched her. Squeezing kept her post-orgasmic flood—and Henry’s release, God, holding a piece of him after sex ended hadn’t lost its thrill—from soaking her, but squeezing tightened her ass around the outline of rippling metal, too. Like the sex hadn’t stopped. Addicting.

Lazing in heavy-headed subspace beneath the heated spray, she twisted and bent at his direction without worry. He’d never let her slip. Safest place in the world, his hands.

Until he grasped the ring nestled between her ass cheeks. “Time for a break.”

“But it’s my toy.” Burying her face in his neck, she mewled in protest. “I’m not done playing.”

“You may fight with me now, and lose this argument, or you may submit and enjoy the rewards good behavior brings.” Firm, growly-voiced Henry wrapped one hand around her hair.

“Submit,” she whispered. Draping herself on him almost made up for the loss of her new toy. The water droplets on his collarbone begged to be licked off. “Experiment over.”

He tugged her hair, tipping her head back, and delivered a commanding kiss, all hard lips and pushy tongue. “Now I know you’re missing your playmate.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ve stolen his pout. All but the pleading eyes.”

He’d know better than her how best to adapt her body for this. But going slow grated when Jay made these games look so beautiful. Still, she helped push the plug free—easier out than in—and washed the metal with soap and hot water.

“Well done.” Henry toweled her dry. “You’re my good girl. Even when you aren’t quite certain you want to be.”

His gentle handling and praise lasted through their morning routine. Attentive and tactile, he dressed her in loose-fitting Saturday-at-home clothes. No underthings.

A teasing shiver rippled through her. Leaving the decision to him, giving him unfettered—and sometimes delightfully fettered—access to her anytime he liked, soaked her in pride-laced naughtiness.

He rubbed her ass through her thin cotton pants and delivered a light spank.

Enough to wake tingles. Not enough to hurt. She arched her back and wiggled.

Chuckling, he gave her a push. “Beautiful instincts. Now go and put your toy away, please.”

A drawstring pouch waited on the special dresser. Fingering the bag against the nap, she discovered rough pleasure. “No velvet?”

Henry wrapped her in a crushing embrace. “My Alice is a strong woman. Suede is her velvet.”

Damn straight. Her suede rested in a drawer, wiped down and laid away with care after last night’s flogging.

“Prickly when pushed. Soft when stroked.” As he eased open the strings and flipped the top, he exposed a green satin lining. “And so welcoming within.”

Forcing herself to let go, she nestled the plug in its home. No, its home away from home, because its true home sat empty and wanting it back. But Henry said to wait, and she’d wait. Experimenting on her own and skipping steps might have unforeseeable consequences.

“Lovely, thank you.” He pulled the strings, closing the bag, and squeezed her shoulders. “Off to the kitchen with you.”

He rattled off instructions and sent her ahead. By the time he emerged, clean-shaven and dressed, she had the table set and the omelet ingredients chopped and lined up beside the stove. Within minutes, he turned out a made-to-order feast. Fluffy eggs. Flavorful ham and veggies. Thick slices of toast slathered in butter and jam.

Quiet settled while they ate, good for musing but also for missing. Halfway through her omelet, she hadn’t fended off a creeping fork or a teasing plea for a bite. Messy dark hair and a bright smile and deep, liquid eyes whose owner’s sweet tenor—
Share with me?
—echoed Henry’s frequent refrain with different intent.

Warmth engulfed her, Henry covering her hand perfectly with his long fingers. His eyes softened to tiny black centers on mossy green discs. “I expect we’ll have waffles next Saturday.”

Swept along in his understanding smile, she needn’t worry he’d read ingratitude or ambivalence into her behavior. They both knew the sex had been fantastic and the omelets delicious. Her tense funk flowed out in a sigh. “You think he’s having birthday waffles?”

Henry shook his head. “I expect he’s eating whatever has been put in front of him, without complaint.” As a frown flashed across his lips, he waved a dismissal. “A discussion for another day. Today, we have an evening out for which to prepare.”

“We’re going out?” With a puzzle in the offing, she swam clear of the satiation of sleep, sex, and a full stomach. “Do I get to know where, or is this one of the great Henry mysteries?”

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