Just a few days into their Christmas-in-Vail honeymoon, Leah takes a tumble on the slopes, severely spraining her ankle. Being stuck indoors isn’t such a hardship though: the luxurious chalet boasts a hot tub and cozy fireplace. Besides, sitting with her feet up while Brandon serves her in every way a man can serve a woman is exactly how both of them like to spend their time.
Everything would be perfect… if only Brandon didn’t insist on playing with the dynamic of their relationship. With kinky sex and deep conversation the only things on the agenda, Leah can’t avoid the discussion of how things might change. What changes will the New Year bring?
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This was beauty.
The line of his spine, curved at the top where his head had bent. His hands, clasped behind him. Not bound, though he’d have allowed that if she wanted it. Leah didn’t have to bind Brandon to keep him where she wanted him to stay.
And besides, eventually she was going to have use for his hands.
More beauty in the fall of his hair over his forehead, hiding his eyes. She could see the lift of his smile though. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he drew in a breath when she shifted a little in the satin-bottomed chair in front of him.
A fire burned in the see-through glass fireplace separating the bedroom and bathroom, but the room wasn’t overly warm. Still, sweat glistened on his upper lip. If she licked his mouth just now, she’d taste the salt of him.
Instead, Leah parted her knees a little more. “Brandon.”
She let herself take in another few seconds of admiring gaze, almost daring him to bend a little. Soften his stance. But he didn’t, just stayed with his back straight, his head bent, on his knees. Hands placed wrist-over-wrist behind him at the small of his back.
“Look at me.”
He did, with a little shake of his head to get the hair from his eyes. She smiled. He did, too. But he didn’t move, because she hadn’t told him he should.
His cock thickened, though, telling her he was ready. More than ready. Eager. His tongue slid across his lips again, and her clit pulsed in response.
Though he was naked, Leah wore what she liked to call the “wet dream ensemble.” Lingerie, and not the silky, comfortable sort she usually preferred. Oh, no. Today she wore a pair of crotchless panties and a bra that left her nipples exposed. Garter belt and sheer, seamed stockings. Also a pair of ridiculously high heels she’d packed in her suitcase even though they took up space and she’d only ever wear them for moments like this.
Brandon had confessed to her that along with dirty talk, the filthier the better, he’d grown to have a new appreciation for CFNM—clothed female, naked male. It wasn’t quite a fetish. Leah wasn’t sure either one of them really had any fetishes—sure, their sex life wasn’t what could normally be called vanilla, and she knew more than many of her friends about the delights of playing with dominance and submission, but a fetish seemed like something so strong you couldn’t get off without it. So far she’d been thrilled to find there wasn’t anything that held either of them back from finding pleasure in whatever they did.
Several months ago she’d left him a catalog with instructions that he was to go through and circle whatever he liked best. It had led to an extremely sexy evening of fun, but she hadn’t mentioned it since then and suspected her husband had probably forgotten the task entirely until walking into the bedroom an hour ago and seeing her dressed this way. It wasn’t anything she’d ever have picked for herself, but his dropped jaw and wide eyes had been worth every cent.
The smooth fabric of the chair caressed her skin as she arched against the chair’s ornate back and opened her legs wider. She slid her hand down over her breasts, nipples already tight, and over her belly. Between her legs. She slipped a fingertip inside the panties’ frilly edges. She was wet. Had been for twenty minutes, teasing him. Teasing herself. She circled her finger against her clit, letting out an entirely unfeigned and unrestrained sigh. The muscles of her thighs and belly jumped at the sensation.
Brandon’s gaze caught each and every tremble and twitch. His shoulders rose and fell again as his throat worked against a swallow. His lips parted, but though she saw the press of his tongue against his teeth, and his mouth formed what might have been a word, he cut himself off from it.
She’d told him he was not allowed to speak until she gave him permission. Not that she didn’t love his voice or hearing him talk, because she did. Of all the things she loved about him, Brandon’s ability to hold his own in conversation with her was one of them. And he liked to talk.
He liked to listen, too.
This was beauty, Leah thought, watching him remind himself not to say anything. This was power. And most of all, it was love.
“It’s been a couple days since you ate my pussy,” she murmured, watching for the telltale blaze of interest in Brandon’s deep, dark eyes. For a man who could look as innocent as a choirboy, he surely did get off on dirty talk. She circled her clit again, opened her legs wider to give him a better look at just what she was offering. “I think we’ll start with that.”
He made a noise, not off-limits according to the rules she’d set out for him. She’d left a short but precise list for him to find on the condo’s front door after he returned from a run to the convenience store for snacks. She recognized the sound, frustrated arousal, low and deep in his throat. She laughed a little, watching him press his lips together against whatever it was he meant to say.
She slipped off her shoes and shifted her ass to the very edge of the chair, then stretched out one leg to press her foot against his bare shoulder. Toes he’d painted bright red for her just that morning flexed in the stockings as she traced the line of his collarbone with them. She let her foot slide down just an inch or so to press the heel to his heart. The steady, strong thumping sent an answering thud to her own pulse.
“I want your mouth on me. Just,” she cautioned as he shifted eagerly to move toward her, “your mouth.”
Brandon groaned, still smiling, but closed his eyes and let his head drop a moment before looking back up at her with a raised brow. Leah laughed again, still rubbing gently at her clit, keeping herself on edge. Was he going to break the agreement?
But no. Despite a heavy sigh and another look, Brandon moved forward without unclasping his hands from behind him.
When he got within touching distance of the chair, though, he took his hands from behind him and mimed holding onto the edges of the chair with an exaggerated look of innocence. Then he twiddled his fingers and looked up, up, then down to the spot on the floor next to her chair and mimed falling over.
Leah snorted softly at how he was managing to get around her instructions, and narrowed her eyes, though they both knew she wasn’t even close to irritated. “Fine. But only the chair. You can’t use your hands on me. Not…yet.”
His eyes widened and so did his grin. Brandon gripped the chair to either side of her ass and bent to nuzzle at her thigh, twisting his head to look up at her as he did it. All puppy eyes and pretended purity, but she knew better.
“Mouth only,” she warned in a voice gone husky with the desire he fed so perfectly inside her. “And don’t touch yourself, either.”
Brandon’s gaze went dark just before he closed his eyes and kissed the inside of her thigh, bare above the top of her stocking. She felt the hot, slick weight of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. He moved closer to her cunt, his breath gusting on her arousal. He gave no tentative flick with his tongue, no hesitating press of his lips. He kissed her clit just the way she liked it. Lips and the press of teeth behind them, firm. Then a slow, steady pressure with his tongue.
This was one of those situations where it was rapidly becoming unclear who, exactly, suffered by restricting the use of his hands. Certainly if she hadn’t told him he couldn’t use his hands, Brandon would’ve slid a finger or two inside her by now…but even as the thought of it tipped her head back and shifted her hips forward against his eager mouth, Leah knew that it was the thought that he could but would not that was getting her hot and wet and stiffening his cock.
“Fuck, I love you,” she said under her breath. She tangled her fingers in his thick dark hair, holding him in place, though it wasn’t like he was making any attempt to get away.
Brandon hummed against her cunt, another familiar noise of pleasure Leah adored. He didn’t need words for her to understand him, but she knew that, while she might have restricted his voice as thoroughly as the use of his hands, one of Brandon’s turn-ons was hearing her talk. So she did.
Don’t miss the stories that started it all, Taking Care of Business and No Reservations!