Trust Me II

Creighton and Sandra stood silently on the steps of the church, hand-in-hand while Chang instructed Miing to arrange the wedding party for photos. It had been a wonderful ceremony, and Sandra was very happy that her new husband insisted it be recorded because she wasn’t sure if she could remember everything that happened. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding, and she acted methodically, repeating word for word what Reverend Keller told her, though she wasn’t sure if she had spoken them in the proper order.

“One last picture,” Creighton insisted, sighing deeply as he looked at Sandra.

They had been standing on the steps for nearly forty minutes, moving this way and that, having their picture taken with this family member and then another, with his parents and then with Nana and Papa, siblings, wedding party, Reverend Keller and finally alone as a couple.

The limousine was parked at the curb with Clark behind the wheel and Harvey standing nearby watching silently. Creighton and Sandra stepped into the back of the sleek black car, closing the door to the noise of cheers behind them. The guests would be returning to the farm for a catered supper at eight o’clock, but for now, the newlyweds would be allowed some time by themselves. Creighton insisted they needed to change and rest up before the evening’s activities. So much had happened that morning alone, that by the time the car pulled away from the church, both Sandra and Creighton collapsed into the plush leather seat. They were exhausted, hot, and in need of a cool drink.

Smiling at his new wife, Creighton reached for the chilled bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal Brut 2004 and popped the cork. Sandra watched him pour the champagne into two crystal glasses from the small bar, amazed at how her heart still jumped whenever he smiled at her. He handed a glass of bubbling liquid to her, winking as they touched the crystal rims together. She smiled back, her heart fluttering, her mind reeling with excitement. She was married!

“Happy?” he asked her, looking over the top of his glass.

“Yes, very,” she sipped the sweet liquor then glanced back up into his dark blue eyes. “Now, your training begins. You may have been the most incredible bachelor that ever lived and a better lover than Don Juan, but you still have to learn to be a husband.”

Creighton choked on his drink as he looked back up at her, eyes wide.

“Really? I have to be trained now, do I?”

“Of course. All men have to know what to say and what not to, when to obey and when to take charge. You know, running errands, taking out the trash and changing diapers, that sort of thing.”

“So, the hen-pecking starts already, eh?” he teased with a broad smile.

“You don’t have to learn, of course, the choice is yours, but if you ever want to hear purring again…” his smile increased as he leaned into her and kissed her lips briefly.

“I will do whatever is necessary to make you purr, but it’s the growling and screaming I enjoy most.”

She blushed as she looked into his eyes. She could not remember a time when she was this happy.

“I’m sorry, but our wedding night will have to be at the flat in Chelsea,” he said after a few moments, leaning against the back of the seat.

His long fingers caressed her knee as they spoke, sending waves of anticipation and desire up her leg to settle at that one place he knew and loved so well.

“I thought you had other plans?” she asked with a curious frown.

“I was hoping to celebrate the start of our new lives together in our own home, but with everything that has happened today, I don’t think that’s a wise idea just yet.”

“I don’t mind, so long as you’re there with me. I’d hate to think about our wedding night without you.”

Creighton took a sip of his champagne then glanced sideways to her.

“That is one thing you won’t have to worry about.”

She sat her glass aside on the bar across from her, then laid her head on his shoulder, sighing contently as he kissed her forehead. It had been a day filled with so many emotions that she felt like she had just come off a roller coaster. Sandra looked at the lush interior of the stretch limousine and thought about the future, what it held for them and all that she had left behind. So many things had happened to her over the past two weeks that it was hard to imagine she had not dreamed it all. If she had not met Creighton, or rather if he had not introduced himself to her that day on the beach, she would be packing to return home. She was sure she would have enjoyed her vacation, though it would have had a totally different ending and she would never have known what love truly was, or how thrilling sex could be.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“My vacation,” she said in a hushed tone as he laid his cheek against the top of her head.

“Some vacation, eh?”

“More of an adventure I’d say,” she teased.

“I thought that’s what you wanted. Adventure, romance, the happily ever after, fairytale ending.”

“And that’s what I got.”

He lifted her chin with his forefinger, so she had to look into his dark blue eyes, concern echoing in the depths.

“Any regrets?”

“Not a single one,” she smiled. “I am extremely happy you are a perverted stalker, and I’m thrilled I won your contest.”

“Ever think about where we would be now if I had been able to make your acquaintance two years ago?” he asked her, kissing her lips gently, setting free the tingles to travel along her nerve endings.

“Things happen for a reason.”

Sandra closed her eyes as he kissed her cheek and the corner of her mouth, feeling the heat of desire waking inside her. She lifted her chin, so he had further access to her neck and throat, giggling when he leaned into her, pressing her against the back of the seat. Creighton branded her delicate skin with the touch of his hot mouth, sending the familiar sensations surging through her veins like melting chocolate, warming and enticing her until she moaned softly.

“I can’t wait to get you alone,” he whispered in her ear, his large hand cupping her swollen breast through the material of her wedding gown and bustier.

“I have a secret,” she whispered softly. Creighton lifted his head from her collarbone and looked into her green eyes, a curious frown creasing his brow. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

His eyes widened as the image of what she revealed passed through his mind. A wicked grin curved his lips as his hand slowly moved to the small of her back, then to her hip, causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing.

“I want to see,” he told her in a hushed tone.

“You wouldn’t dare?” She knew the answer before he spoke it.

“I would and I will,” he insisted, lifting her dress and frowning at the layers of clothing between him and his ultimate goal. Sandra lost control and laughed as she struggled to pull her dress back down. The result ended in a brief wrestling match between them until Creighton won out and pulled her down to the leather seat, her dress around her waist, her slip and veil lying discarded to the floor

“Very nice,” he told her while he looked down, admiring her with greedy eyes. Her white garter belt held up the tan stockings with the edge of the lacy waistband resting just below her belly ring and she smiled, knowing what her naked body did to his libido.

“A sight worthy of worship,” he murmured, leaning into her and kissing her navel, his tongue playing with the jewel, teasing, tickling and licking and smiling at the goosebumps that erupted on her delicate flesh.

“We can’t do this…not here,” she argued weakly.

“Why not? We’re married, that means I have a right to take you wherever and whenever I wish.”

“But in the backseat of a limousine?”

“Back seat, front seat, bonnet, any place I wish. Give me a few moments and I can make it, so you don’t care where we are either.”

Sandra giggled again, his fingers caressing his initials that lay across her bare skin, causing a warm shiver to move down her spine to settle in the one area she knew he was eager to explore.

She bent her legs as his fingers traveled down to her labia, tickling and caressing the folds of skin. He smiled at her. Dark blue eyes locking with bright green. He then narrowed his gaze slightly, his fingers slipping between her lips, finding and teasing the swollen nub of her clitoris.

“Your body is tattling on you,” he whispered, causing her to gasp. “You’re wet and ready for me.”

Closing her eyes and biting her lower lip again, Sandra prepared herself for the tantalizing onslaught of pleasure. It had been a long and frustrating day, filled with anger, fear, and hope, but in his expert hands all those memories of guns, crazy ex-cons, and irritating sisters quickly melted away, leaving behind a moist heat that demanded attention.

Creighton moved down her body, tracing his initials with the tip of his tongue, smiling when she moaned softly. Her knees fell further apart. He continued to torture her with his tongue, his fingers slowly moving in and out of her wet vagina until she was panting a soft purring sound, just as he promised.

“I told you I would persuade you,” he assured her, glancing up into her flushed face. “Shall I continue, or would you prefer I stop until we get home.”

“Lesson one; never stop,” she ordered, feeling the vibration of his deep chuckle against her crotch as he pressed his mouth across the letters and gently nipped the tender skin.

“You will learn, Mrs. Ashford, that I can be as efficient of a student as you are.”

Sandra smiled, moaning softly as his mouth continued to explore her, sucking and nipping at the swollen nub of her clitoris until the need for him began to wash over her at an alarming rate. Just when she was certain she could stand no more, she felt it. The heat, the desire, the dizzy overwhelming tidal wave of sensation flowing through her. Her hips arched into his touch, her fingers winding into his thick dark hair as she called out his name. Creighton rode out the crest of her orgasm with her for several long moments then eagerly moved above her. She wasn’t sure how or when he had unfastened his pants, but when the hard-swollen tip of his arousal pressed against her, slipping easily inside, she knew she really didn’t care.

Creighton thrust against her hard, while the road beneath them aided in their movements, bumping and grinding against the pavement causing her to feel the sensations below as well as above, taking her on a new path of ecstasy. Sandra lifted her legs higher, wrapping them around his waist, feeling his hands slip beneath her as he lifted her buttocks off the seat, making the contact between them deeper and more solid.

The feelings of desire began to grow again. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they were both experiencing the joy of orgasm. No sooner had she thought it, then it happened, the thrusting grew more urgent, quicker, harder, deeper as the fullness of him inside her began to grow thicker, taking her over the edge once more. She clung to his shoulders, pulling him down to lie on top of her as she cried out his name, feeling the overwhelming dizziness embrace her once again. Creighton joined in her release, pinning her slender frame to the seat with his weight, growling savagely next to her ear while he spilled his hot seed inside her.

They lay there for a few minutes, panting, until Creighton slowly lifted onto his elbows, smiling down into the face of the woman he adored. The love he had for her shined in his eyes and Sandra could not resist smiling back. Her heartfelt full, and she wanted him to know how much she loved him, but words alone couldn’t express the depth of her feelings.

“So much for waiting until our wedding night,” he teased her, brushing his lips across hers.

“There’s no backing out now, Mr. Ashford,” she assured him. “You just consummated our marriage, which means you’re stuck for life.”

“Linked to you forever? What a dreadful thought. I suppose it’s just something I’ll have to get used to.”

Creighton smiled as he leaned up on his knees between hers and gently caressed the tattooed handcuffs that connected his initials together.

“There are worse things in life than spending it with the woman you love,” he said gently, his eyes caressing her body.

“Like what?” She smiled as she looked into his handsome face, capturing his gaze once again.

“Like never meeting you. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if Michelle had not insisted that I go to Kansas two years ago.”

“She insisted?” Sandra sat up in front of him, watching the memories fill his eyes.

“It was more of a way to get me out of my flat and back into the world of the living. I have people who do the work for me, so I don’t have to be bothered with all the traveling anymore, but she insisted that I needed to see the place for myself. I argued with her for weeks until she showed up on my doorstep. She had arranged for the plane to be ready and demanded I pack. I nearly fired her, but after an hour of arguing with me, she finally won out. If I had refused, if I had stayed in Chelsea, we would never have met, and I would never have known what true love really was.”

“Like I said, things are just meant to happen. But I think you should give the girl a raise for dragging you all the way to America.”

“I already did,” he assured her. “Just as soon as we got back to London after that first trip. Quite a nice one as a matter of fact.” She sighed contently as the car slowed down and turned a corner.

“We need to get dressed,” he insisted. “We’re almost at Northallerton.” Sandra struggled back into her slip, smoothing her hair and dress down the best she could as Creighton straightened his tie and pulled his pants up across his slightly limp erection. She was amazed at how he never looked like he was completely satisfied, at least not like the farm animals she had always seen during the mating season. Once they had mated, they shrunk down to nearly nothing, but this man, her husband, always appeared to be large and hard.

“What are you staring at?” he frowned, picking up her veil and handing the glass of champagne back to her. Sandra blushed scarlet and bit her lip again.

“I was thinking about your…partner,” she said causing his frown to increase.

“The Don?” he asked, and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“No….that.” She looked down at the bulge in his pants and blushed. He followed the path her eyes had taken and looked down to his lap, then looked back to her, raising an eyebrow.

“What about it?”

“I was just wondering if you were happy with me…in that department.”

“Why would you ask such a thing? Of course, I’m happy with you, more than happy.” His frown increased as he studied her expression, trying to understand what she was talking about.

“You never seem to be…completely relieved.” Creighton laughed once he realized what she was talking about then kissed her cheek, pulling her closer to his side.

“How am I supposed to recover properly, when I have you staring at me all the time? Besides, I’ve told you before, I can’t get enough of you. I’m addicted to your body.”

“So, you married me for my body?”

“Yes…among other things.”

The car pulled to a halt and a moment later the door opened. Creighton stepped out, adjusting his jacket before reaching in and helping Sandra out. She smiled with a deep blush to the man waiting for them, then watched as Clark smiled back. Harvey walked with the couple to the waiting chopper and opened the door, allowing the newlyweds to climb in. They sat together in the back of the small black and silver machine and slipped the earphones across their ears, as Harvey sat behind the controls.

Sandra blushed as Creighton laid his hand on her thigh and squeezed. The sound of the propellers started, and soon they found themselves lifting into the air, heading back to the flat in Chelsea. The trip wasn’t as long as it would have been had they driven, and it provided the chance for Sandra to see the sights from the air. She loved the quiet surroundings of her new home and the sights of rolling green hills and farms. Creighton watched her stare out the window, smiling at how content she seemed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked her through the headset.

“Nothing, really. I was just looking at how beautiful everything is.”

“Wait until you see it at night. The sights are spectacular.”

They arrived in Chelsea forty minutes later, landing on the top of Creighton’s flat. They took the private lift down one floor, then walked across the marble foyer. The doors to the lift shut and Creighton unlocked the front door to the flat, lifting his bride into his strong arms.

“Am I ever going to be allowed to enter a room on my own?” she teased him as he carried her across the threshold and kicked the door closed.

“Doubtful,” he answered, setting her on her feet and kissing her hard, but brief.

Sandra laughed at the childish expression on his face then turned, following him into the living room and watched as he removed his jacket and tossed it across the back of the sofa.

“Do we really have to go back to your parents’ place?” she asked, feeling extremely tired and eager to get out of the layers of clothing.

“The day’s catching up to you, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” she groaned, collapsing to the sofa and kicking her shoes off.

“My mum is making brunch for everyone tomorrow, so we have to go back around eleven, but we can have tonight all to ourselves,” he told her, sitting down next to her. “Why don’t you go start a tub and I’ll join you in a few minutes? I need to call and let Mum and Dad know we aren’t coming back.”

Sandra sighed, nodding as she stood. She knew she would need a little relaxing in order to have the energy for their wedding night and whatever wicked, delightful ideas her husband had planned. Creighton kissed her briefly and swatted her bottom with one hard smack, then turned and walked to the kitchen, leaving her to rub her backside as she climbed the stairs.

The tub was slightly larger than the ones they had used in the many hotels over the past two weeks, allowing a little extra room for two to enjoy the space. Sandra turned the faucets on and wrapped the long strands of her hair on top of her head, removing her beautiful necklace and setting it aside. She hated him spending money on her, but this was such a lovely gift, she could forgive him this one time.

She washed off her makeup and lit the six large candles that surrounded the tub’s edge, turned off the light, and found her iPod in her purse. She sorted through the playlists and chose the romantic sounds of Yanni, then climbed into the porcelain bowl, sighing as she sank beneath the water’s surface.

Creighton opened the bedroom door a few minutes later, chuckling at the discarded clothing that lay on the floor in a trail to the bed. It looked like she’d started undressing as soon as she walked into the room. He gathered the clothes together and tossed them in the chair by the bookcase, then went to the adjoining bathroom. He leaned against the open threshold as he watched the woman, his arms folded across his chest.

“You look delightful,” he said in a low, husky tone. “I think I could watch you all night and never grow tired.”

“You could do that, but I’d rather you join me,” she said with an inviting smile as he stepped into the room and closed the door before stripping off his shirt and kicking his shoes across the floor. She felt the excitement build as he pulled off his pants and climbed into the tub behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest.

“How tired are you?” he asked in a deep tone as his lips brushed her neck.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Since we aren’t going back to my parents’ tonight, I’d like to see if I could give you a reason to sleep late tomorrow.” Sandra laughed, his words promising and thrilling her beyond the realm of normal thought.

“I will never be too tired for you,” she whispered as his lips brushed against her ear, his hands molding against her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers taunting her erect nipples.

Sandra sighed as he caressed her, kissing her neck and shoulder. Her hands cupped his in a subconscious move, pressing them against her breasts hard, causing him to moan. She could feel the center of her stomach tighten as his fingers slowly caressed their way down to her navel, leaving her hands to take the place of his on her upper body. He gently tugged on the jeweled chain hanging from her belly button, smiling as she gasped. He trailed a slow caress further down, circling her tender flesh in small circles as he slipped his long middle finger between her labia, teasing her clitoris. She couldn’t help but smile, biting her bottom lip as his fingers began an urgent exploration.

“Supper will be ready soon,” he warned.

“Maybe we should postpone this until later?” she suggested, hoping he would refuse her rejection.

“I want to make you cum first.”

“Beg me,” she teased him, feeling the hard shaft of his penis press against her bottom. Creighton leaned into her neck, nipping the skin tenderly.

“Please,” he pleaded softly.

“Help me,” she ordered, reaching her hand down between her legs and taking his, she guided his long fingers into her moist vagina. Creighton moaned deep, his mouth clamping on her lower neck as his tongue caressed the skin, sucking on the flesh. She joined her finger with his and together they caressed her wet opening, slowly thrusting in and out of her tight body until she began to pant. The familiar dizziness quickly built within her, embracing her in a silent promise of release.

“Cum for me, darling, please,” he begged again, smiling as she quickly obeyed him, her savage growl made his erection harden beneath her hips while she writhed against their combined fingers for several long moments, panting and grinding against him.

“Do me now,” she ordered suddenly, her tone deep and husky. “I need you, hard and fast.”

Creighton smiled, positioning her across his erect penis and pulled her down against him, sliding easily into her hot, wet entrance. He held her around the hips as he slammed against her, almost barbarically. Water splashed over the sides of the tub and onto the floor. Several long breathless moments passed before she surrendered and came again, hearing his low growl as he joined her, his hot seed filling her tight canal. Her body clenched around his hard shaft, taking and accepting all that he offered.

Breathless, Sandra collapsed back against his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder as she listened to their conjoined pants. It was a brief encounter, but erotic nevertheless and more passionate than she would have expected in such a short time.

“You are getting braver,” he whispered against the side of her head. “I’ve never heard you order me like that before.”

“I feel brave,” she told him with a smile. “Maybe it’s the new title, or maybe it’s the ring, but I feel invincible.”

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked her as she raised her head off him and looked into his dark eyes.

“Very much. I wouldn’t mind doing it again…soon.”

“Not a problem, but I think we should probably get out before we flood the bathroom.”

Sandra couldn’t resist the yawn that escaped as he stood up and climbed over the edge of the tub. He looked down at her while he reached for the towel on the shelf next to the shower.

“You really are tired,” he said. “Why don’t you go lay down until supper is ready.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

Creighton shook his head.

“It’s been a long day and you need your rest for tonight. Supper shouldn’t take long. Bess already made it. All I have to do is cook it.”

“Who’s Bess?”

Sandra stepped out of the tub and accepted the towel he handed her, a sudden pang of jealousy seeped into her stomach, making her feel slightly ill.

“She’s my housekeeper, and before your green eyes flare up, she’s married with a family. She comes by in the mornings after I’ve gone to work and cleans the place and cooks for me. All I have to do is heat it up when I get home.”

“You are very spoiled sir,” she teased him. “I hope you’re not planning on having me follow suit.” Creighton laughed, pulling her into his arms.

“I plan on being the one to spoil you, besides I know you don’t like cooking, but I do. So long as I can have your attention during other times of the day…and night, I’ll suffice.”

“Deviant,” she accused, smiling as he laughed at her expense.

“Go lay down,” he kissed her lips softly, then moved to her cheek, pulling her tighter against the length of him. “Would you like something to drink?”

Sandra shook her head as she tipped her chin up, accepting the trail of warm kisses he planted across her throat and down to her collarbone.

“Then get some rest,” he said in a husky tone as he reluctantly let her out of his arms and pulled on his discarded pants. “I’ll wake you when the food is ready.”

Sandra stepped into the dimly lit bedroom with him, watching as he left her alone. The room was illuminated only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. She felt like all of the anxiety, fears, and excitement of the past two weeks had caught up to her all at once. She was exhausted, and the idea of sleep made the large bed look all the more inviting. She tossed the damp towel to the back of the nearby chair and crawled beneath the pile of blankets, sinking her head into the pillow, closing her eyes as another yawn overtook her. Within seconds, she found the lull of slumber embracing her, and she fell into the warm, inviting arms of sleep.

Creighton’s housekeeper had made an odd dish he called Toad in the hole, which consisted of a battered sausage casserole and onion gravy, complete with a side dish of roast potatoes, sliced carrots, bread, and butter pudding for dessert and champagne to toast their marriage. Sandra slept for over an hour until the aroma of the food woke her and she reluctantly crawled out of bed. She did feel better, more rested, but felt certain she could easily have slept the rest of the night without a problem, but it was their wedding night and she was just as eager to play as she was to eat.

The food had been cooked as per Bess’s instructions and Creighton was setting it on the dining table when she joined him. She wore only a pair of silk white panties and nothing else. She smiled at him sheepishly when he turned from pouring their drinks and batted her eyes.

“Nice outfit,” he said with a raised brow.

“You seemed shocked that I wasn’t wearing them earlier, so I thought I would appease you now.”

Creighton narrowed his gaze in warning, his lips curling upward in a wicked grin, but he said nothing more. He held the chair out for her to sit before moving to the one next to her.

Sandra was feeling much braver than she had ever thought possible as they ate their meal over small talk. The weather, football, and politics being the main focus of conversation. She deliberately dripped champagne onto her chest, wiping it off with her finger and sucking the moisture from her digit. Then she accidentally spilled a small amount of gravy onto her breast and did the same, sucking her finger clean with a soft moan. It wasn’t until her spoon fell to her lap, that Creighton stood suddenly, picking up her hand and pulling her to her feet.

“No more teasing, wench,” he growled, a seductive smile crossing his handsome face. “I think you need to know what happens when you play with fire.” Creighton lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes holding her green gaze prisoner.

He walked her to the sofa and pulled her into his strong embrace, kissing her hard and passionate, their tongues battling, their breath mingling with the sweet scent of the champagne. Creighton’s large hands began caressing her bottom and Sandra sighed. She loved how he touched her, she loved the erotic tingling he brought to life and how it always traveled to all the right places. The familiar excitement began to grip her stomach and she smiled against his mouth as he squeezed her firm buttocks.

“Still tired?” he asked against her ear, his lips moving down her neck again, sending waves of heat across her flesh. Sandra shook her head. She wasn’t that tired, she thought.

“Liar,” he said grinning but said no more as his head bent and his mouth captured her erect nipple. His tongue caressed the hard pebble-like tip, his teeth capturing it and holding it prisoner. Sandra moaned. The feeling was slightly painful but erotic and very sensitive and she felt weak in the knees. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and as if reading her mind, he sat down on the sofa, cradling her on his lap.

“I won’t keep you awake much longer,” he told her at last. “But I can’t let you tease me without a little retribution.” Sandra felt the sting of her blush coloring her cheeks and bit her lip to keep from giggling.

“What evil plans do you have in mind this time, Lord Vader?” she asked him, watching his moist lips widen to a smile that seemed to encompass his eyes.

“I thought I’d shag you down here and then take you to bed. If you fall asleep on me, at least you’ll be comfortably tucked in.”

“When have I ever fallen asleep on you?” she asked with a frown, listening to his deep laughter echo around the room.

“When haven’t you? What about when you played dominatrix? You passed out and left me to unfasten myself. Very impolite of you but flattering that I could wear you out so easily without even touching you.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” she insisted, feigning anger and irritation. “You pushed me past my point of exhaustion.”

“So maybe I should just put you to bed now, instead of making you suffer further?” Sandra gasped, slapping the heart tattoo on his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare!” He laughed again, turning and laying her beneath him on the sofa.

“Are you sure?” Creighton slipped his fingers into the front of her panties and pulled, causing them to tighten across her clitoris.

“Positive,” she whispered, closing her eyes as his fingers began playing with her, caressing her labia. He grinned wickedly, taking her breast into his warm mouth and suckling on the nipple once again. She had no choice but to relent to his onslaught of passion, her legs bending to bring him closer to her.

Creighton’s lips slowly moved from one breast to the other before trailing a hot path down her sternum to her navel where he played with the delicate ring, his tongue teasing the tender flesh and smiling at the goosebumps that erupted across her flesh.

Sandra closed her eyes as he removed her panties and sighed when his tongue traced his initials across her pubic area. It seemed to be a favorite act of his and one she relished immensely. His tongue teased and caressed her until she moaned, his long fingers parting her labia so he could explore her hidden treasure more thoroughly. She began feeling the welcoming embrace of the familiar dizziness she so long desired and moaned her acceptance. The tight contraction of her stomach sent a wave of heat along her thighs and when he slipped his long finger into her wet body, she cried out. Her back arched off the sofa, her hands wound in his thick hair, pulling him closer as the onslaught of his torture deepened. His tongue licked and played with her clitoris as two fingers slipped into her, thrusting and circling around the upper wall of her vagina.

She felt like there was no end to her climax and she cried out again, calling him by name. He rose above her suddenly, replacing his fingers with the engorged tip of his penis and pushed through, hard and deep. Her legs were lifted higher as his hands locked behind her knees, taking him in deeper and she growled, spurring him onward. His actions became more demanding, more urgent and within a few heated moments, he was joining her, his body tensing as he spilled his seed into her, growling out her name.

Seconds turned to minutes as they lay together on the sofa, their breaths expelled in deep pants, their skin moist with sweat. Sandra found her muscles quivering around his erection, tightening and releasing on their own accord as he groaned, turning his head into her neck.

“You are going to kill me,” he whispered, his tongue tracing a hot moist path up her throat, his teeth pulling at her earlobe. “I love how your body reacts to me.”

“That’s because my body loves what you do to it.”

“And what about you?” he asked, rising up on his elbows. “Do you love what I do to you?”

“More than words will ever say.” Sandra smiled at the dark eyes that stared at her.

“Let’s go to bed and see if I can persuade you to stay awake a little longer,” he teased, kissing the tip of her nose before standing up and pulling her gently to her feet.

He stepped to the fridge before following her up the stairs, bringing with him two bottles of chilled water. The room was dark, and she tried to peer around her as Creighton kicked the door closed. She listened to him walk across the carpet, amazed that he knew his way around so easily, then jumped when his cool hands wrapped around her stomach and pulled her back against his chest, his lips once again claiming her neck.

They stood somewhere in the middle of the bedroom, his fingers slipping between her legs, playing once again with her moistened clitoris. He caressed her labia, pressing his erection against her bottom, his lips and tongue traveling across her shoulder, over the back of her neck and onto the opposite side and leisurely up to her ear. Sandra didn’t move, she didn’t know how or where to go. The room was pitch black with no outlines of furniture or walls and she felt suddenly claustrophobic.

“Trust me?” he asked her in a whisper barely more than a breath and Sandra instantly relaxed.

He turned her in his arms and walked her backward toward the bed until she felt the edge of the mattress against her knees. He slowly lowered her to the soft covers, then braced his knees between her legs and edged her further onto the bed. He pushed upward against her buttocks before stretching out across her.

“All the time I spent watching you over the last two years, all the dreams and plans I made to get you into my life could never compare to how incredible it feels to have you with me,” he told her gently. “You have exceeded everything I ever hoped for. I feel like a newborn babe, experiencing every day with you as though it were my first.”

“Are you sure you’re not a romantic at heart?” she asked as tears of happiness and love began to fill her eyes.

Creighton laughed, pressing his lips against hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he eagerly explored the dark recesses beyond.

Their mouths molded together, their tongues battling and sparring against the other. He moaned deep in his throat then reluctantly pulled away, touching his forehead against hers.

“This is why I never fully recover from our lovemaking,” he told her, his voice echoing through the darkness. “You never give me a chance to regain my strength before you have me begging for more.”

“You kissed me,” she demanded. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“Really? And where exactly may I ask are your legs?”

Sandra gasped. Somewhere in the midst of that kiss - that passionate, incredible kiss - she had lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, holding him against her body. Creighton smiled as he moved his lips across her neck, nipping at the tender flesh, his tongue trekking out a path in the dark.

“Do you want to sleep, or can I attempt to keep you awake a bit longer?”

“Bring it on,” Sandra said, feeling the heat rise between them again.

“Would you like to continue experiencing the vanilla variety of sex, or would you like to spice things up a bit?”

“What did you have in mind?” Creighton laughed, sitting up between her legs, his warm hands caressing her torso and breasts.

“What would you like?” he asked softly. “I can tie you up and use your favorite toys or I could just ride you a bit longer until you can’t walk come morning.”

“I’m not sure.”

She could feel the blush creeping up her neck as she thought about what he was asking her.

“Tell me,” he insisted, pinching her nipples between his forefinger and thumb. “It’s dark, private and your inhibitions are hidden. Do you want your kit or sleep?”

Sandra sighed. She may feel invincible with her new title of wife, but she was still very much the shy country girl who left Kansas two weeks ago.

“Tell me,” he urged again. Sandra drew a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“Your kinky kit,” she whispered.

“It’s your kinky kit, my love, not mine. Ask for it again.”

“I can’t,” she said barely above a whisper.

“I thought you liked how you felt when we used them?”

“I do, but I don’t know how to say what I want.”

“You pretend to be so proper and innocent, but you love playing as much as I do. Just tell me what you want me to do to you?”

“The cuffs,” she said, feeling her blush burn her skin.

“And?” he urged further.

“The wand.”

“Is that all?” Sandra sighed. He was not letting her off the hook until she told him exactly what she wanted.

“You can use the damn clamps too,” she growled louder than she had wanted, causing him to laugh again.

“I believe I have created a monster,” he teased kissing her neck. “An orgasm-crazed monster, if I recall.”

“You brought me up here to demonstrate your manliness, not to spend the evening talking.” Sandra felt irritated with his teasing, though her ire was slowly diminishing.

“So impatient,” he told her. “So, my beloved, do you want the usual heat, or shall we enjoy our evening and take it slow.”

“I don’t think you know how to take it slow,” she teased as he began caressing her hips.

“I can if you want, but I know how much you really enjoy it hard and fast. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.” Sandra smiled, biting her lower lip.

“I love everything you do, everything you make me feel. I put my trust and my love in your capable hands.”

He leaned into her and kissed her passionately for a few very brief moments, then stood up off the bed once again and flipped on the side table lamp. He untucked the blanket at the foot of the bed and tugged sharply, laughing at the unexpected screech she gave as she nearly tumbled off the side. Sandra secured her position on the clean blue sheets, feeling the anxiety and nerves begin to mount inside her again, sending tingles down her stomach to her lower regions.

Creighton picked up the black bag of toys and walked back to her, smiling while he sat it on the edge of the bed and unzipped it, removing the wand, nipple clamps, and glass vibrator. Sandra bit her lip to stifle the giggle when he held up the handcuffs and the spandex wrist band.

“Which one would you like?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow. She couldn’t resist any longer and laughed. “What’s so amusing?” he asked her with a slight frown.

“Why is it you want me to tell you what to do, when you already know what I want, sometimes even before I do?” He grinned tossing the spandex across her tummy and moved the bag back to the floor.

“I have spent the past two years studying you, remember? I know your heart and your soul better than I know my own.” He moved up on the bed, holding her gaze a willing prisoner as he slowly approached her.

“Ready?” he asked a moment later watching her nod eagerly, stretching her arms above her head. His smile widened as she batted her eyelashes innocently up at him.

“Whenever you are,” she said softly, causing him to laugh

“You never cease to amaze me, Sandra. I love how trusting you are and how eager.” He straddled her stomach, taking her hand in his and kissing each finger in turn, nipping the soft pad of her palm. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, feeling the stirring sensations begin to tingle down her abdomen to settle between her legs again.

“You have never given me a reason not to trust you, Creighton, and I highly doubt you ever would.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he assured her, slipping her hand into the stretchy band and leaning over her, securing her wrists together between the rungs on the headboard. He sat back on his knees above her and smiled.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he asked her, looking deep into her bright green eyes.

“Not within the last twenty minutes,” she told him.

“I must be slipping,” he said with a firm tone, his hands cupping her breasts, gently squeezing them with his palms as his forefinger and thumb began to pinch her nipples, tugging on them until they were hard and erect. He reached to the small pile of items awaiting them and took the nipple clamps, holding them up for her to see and smiled as she bit her bottom lip again.

“We’ll use these very gently tonight,” he said. “I just want you sensitive, not sore.”

“But I thought you wanted to love me until I couldn’t walk?”

“Yes, but I don’t want you so sore that you pull away from me when I touch you. I just want you to remember our wedding night when you walk…or sit…or move.”

Sandra laughed again as he clamped the gold and diamond objects across her erect nipples and tightened them just a little, causing her to draw a deep breath. Creighton gently ran his thumbs across the imprisoned flesh and smiled as she moaned.

“Perfect,” he said then climbed off her and walked back to the end of the bed. He ran his fingertips gently up the inside of her legs then spread them wide and cuffed each to the footboard.

“Time to play,” he whispered, causing Sandra to laugh.

The excitement echoed in his deep tone as he walked to her side once again. The warmth of his tongue caressed the tips of her exposed nipples, sending waves of heated desire to travel across her bare skin. Creighton’s lips moved slowly down her sternum, kissing her tummy as he moved his mouth across her abdomen to the blue initials, tracing each curve with the tip of his tongue.

She moaned again, her need deepening, the moisture against her thighs was driving her crazy. Creighton walked back to the black bag and removed the leather riding crop, slowly caressing her inner thighs with the tip. Sandra closed her eyes tightly, biting her bottom lip and smiling. The anticipation caused waves of chills to travel along her lower limbs as the muscles in her abdomen clenched. She was growing hot with memories of the many times he had used the leather crop and she could actually feel the need mounting with her thoughts.

He slid the soft, cool leather across her hairless crotch, tickling the sensitive skin, tracing his initials with the tip until she giggled softly. He looked at her with a wicked grin. Her body quivered in anticipation and he flipped the crop with a quick flick of his wrist, causing her to jump as the sting traveled across her bare flesh. She had no choice but to smile when he laughed softly. The warm familiar sound embedded itself into her conscience and she found herself actually relaxing, anticipating his next move.

Over and over again he caressed the leather across her and when she was unprepared, he would flip it. Up her sternum, flip, around her breasts, flip, down her sides, flip and then back between her legs, flip, flip, flip. Sandra was breathless, panting and moaning against his gentle, erotic torture, certain she could bear no more, but when he stopped, she frowned.

“Hey?” she complained, and he laughed again.

“Did you want something?” he asked her, his tone filled with humor she knew was at her expense.

“Why did you stop?”

“Because I have other plans for you. That is unless you really want me to make you cum?” Sandra bit her lip in order to stifle the giggle.

“Continue as you choose,” she said smiling at him.

“And so, I shall,” he assured her, his warm hand caressing her body from breast to foot and back up again until Sandra felt the heat pooling between her legs.

“So eager,” he whispered, his fingers caressing and massaging the moist skin between her labia. Sandra moaned again, her head falling backward slightly, her chest heaving with each deep pant.

She felt the cool tip of the smooth glass vibrator press against her opening and sighed, preparing herself for the passion. The gentle buzzing began, and she found herself holding her breath to control her desire for a quick climax as he inserted it, twisting it from side to side and then back out again.

“Do you like that?” he asked her in a deep whisper. Sandra nodded but knew he wouldn’t accept her silent answer.

“Very much,” she panted and bit her lower lip.

She knew he was smiling at her without even looking at him. He inserted the glass tube again, twisting it from side to side and then pulled it back out, only to repeat his actions several more times.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any wetter without cumming, but look what you’re doing,” he teased, his long fingers caressing her clitoris causing her to moan again. “Want more?”

His words were like magic, making the muscles of her vagina constrict against the vibration when he turned up the speed, not waiting nor needing an answer. He pushed the glass object into her further then moved away to allow her time to adjust to the sensations burning to life inside her.

He moved about the room, but she didn’t look at him. The frantic vibration inside her was making her forget everything else except her desire. The slow hum of the wand made her feel dizzy even before he touched her with it. She knew she was nearly there and when he pressed the ball against her throbbing clitoris she cried out. Her muscles clenched around the glass vibrator, sending her further into the realm of orgasm.

Creighton continued to slowly massage her body with the soft buzzing sensation of the wand, pressing it upwards when he reached the opening of her vagina, the glass vibrator thrust further against her cervix. Sandra cried out again, struggling against the restraints holding her firm and relentless to the mattress. Her inability to move made the frustration and desire reach new heights and she heard herself scream out his name, her lungs heaving for air.

His actions slowed for a few brief moments to allow her time to calm. The vibration inside her stopped, the ball of the wand moved to massage her inner thighs and she found her throat growing dry as she panted wildly for oxygen, beads of perspiration lay across her naked body like a damp sheet. She was amazed at how easily it was for her to experience such deep orgasms, over and over again.

“Ready for more?” he asked, and she shook her head, smiling.

“I need a drink first.”

The humming of the wand ceased, and the glass tube was removed from her quivering body. Sandra watched as he walked to the bedside table next to them and unscrewed the cap to one of the bottles of water.

“I’ll release you for a few moments or for the rest of the night, whichever you choose. Are you tired, my love?”

He slipped her wrists out of the elastic band and helped her sit up. The cool air of the room made her shiver as the moisture of sweat across her torso was touched by the breeze from the vent above the bed.

“No, just thirsty,” she assured him. “I think I can go a little longer.” Creighton handed her the plastic bottle then sat on the bed next to her. She sipped the cool island water in silence for a few seconds before handing the bottle to him and watching him swallow a large mouthful.

“Is this going to be the norm?” she questioned, watching the frown crease his brows. “Lovemaking, I mean. Are you going to tie me down every night and make love to me until I can’t move?”

“Not every night.” He smiled at her and winked. “We’ll keep this kind of kinky sex for special occasions.”

“Such as?”

“Wedding nights for one. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, sports events, when we move into our new house, when we buy a new toy when we see something in our favorite colors when the dog has puppies, that sort of thing.”

“I see,” she laughed, taking the water from him. “So only on very rare occasions?”

“Exactly,” Creighton said, watching her swallow another drink from the bottle before handing it back to him. She then laid down and stretched her arms above her head

“So long as it’s a special night for us, I suppose I can consent to your perverted alter ego.”

He set the bottle aside and reached for the elastic band, slipping her wrists into it once again and securing her to the headboard.

“This is the first of many special nights for us, darling.”

Creighton kissed her moist lips once more, this time lingering a little longer as their tongues battled and sparred against each other. His hot mouth moved slowly across her neck and down her sternum, kissing and nipping the skin as he went. His tongue caressed the round globes of her breasts, bathing them with moisture that instantly cooled beneath his breath. When he, at last, leaned over her nipples she moaned, her back arching upwards toward his mouth.

“Do you want these off?” he asked her, his warm breath against her breasts, the tip of his nose caressing her imprisoned nipples, sending waves of pain and pleasure along her nerve endings to settle between her legs.

“I’m good for now,” she assured him in a quiet whisper and watched as he stood up and walked to the end of the bed, the smile curving his lips assured her he was thinking of something dark and fun.

“So, what wicked, perverted things shall I do to you now?” he asked her as he leaned over her naked body, his lips brushing against her crotch.

Sandra drew a deep breath and held it as the wand’s ball pressed against her clitoris and the humming began again. It was so easy for him to tease her, her legs so wide her labia opened, her swollen clitoris throbbing between her lips. The ball began to tease her, caressing and tormenting her as she lay in anticipation of his next move.

“Breathe, my love,” he told her and she instantly exhaled, unaware that she was still holding her breath.

Creighton continued his slow torture until she felt dizzy and hot, then without warning, he unfastened the cuffs around her ankles and softly slapped her outer hips.

“Up wench,” he ordered, lifting her legs in the air and gently massaged the backs of them. “I want this to be deep and hard.” Creighton climbed onto the end of the bed between her legs and slipped easily into her wet vagina, growling gently when her muscles tightened around him. Sandra watched him in awe while he moved in and out of her with a steady fluid action before the familiar, welcoming dizziness began to overtake her.

As his movements picked up momentum, moving harder, quicker inside her, she found herself lost in the sensations of desire and love, her body tingling with anticipation, her stomach clenching with need. She was growing frustrated with the inability to touch him and her hands folded together tightly. She needed to feel more, she wanted to wrap her fingers in his thick dark hair and pull him down to her, but she couldn’t do more than grip the rung of the headboard she was tethered to.

“Frustrated?” he asked her, making her aware he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“Yes,” she growled as he thrust into her again, listening to his soft laugh.

A few long, hard strokes more and she felt the insanity that always preceded her release, hearing his deep primal growl as the heat of passion washed over her. She joined him in a climax that equaled his in urgency and strength. Her hips lifted slightly against him as she called out his name, her muscles clenching around him tighter as he continued to spill his seed into her. His grip on her legs was hard and demanding as they rode the wave of orgasm for several long moments before he collapsed onto her chest.

They lay against each other panting, heat, and sweat encasing them in the afterglow of sensations. The gold and diamond clamps across her nipples pressed against his strong chest as he breathed, causing a twinge to echo through the firm muscles of her breasts. Creighton reached up and unfastened the elastic band, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he moved above her, resting his weight on his forearms and kissing her neck, tasting the salty moisture that lay across her delicate flesh.

“Was that good for you?” he asked, amusement in his deep tone.

Sandra felt like slapping him, but she was exhausted beyond belief. All she could do was lay beneath him panting, then she remembered a joke she heard her grandfather tell his friends one night during poker and she began to laugh. Creighton rose up on his wrists above her, the frown pulling his brows together made her realize he thought she was laughing at him, which made her laugh even harder.

“I don’t think I’ve had a woman laugh after I’ve made love to her before,” he said, the sound of a bruised ego echoed in his deep tone.

“It’s not that,” she answered. “I was thinking of one of Papa’s jokes.”

“Do you often think of jokes after we’ve had sex?”

“No, this is a first.”

Relief shined in his eyes as he rolled off her, stretching out on the bed next to her. He pulled the clamps from her breasts in a quick jerk, smiling as she yelped in surprise.

“So, what’s the joke?” he asked, turning over briefly to set the clamps on the bedside table, then rolled back and began to massage her breasts gently with his large hand.

“There are two farmers talking,” she began with a wide smile. “One owned a cornfield, the other a wheat field. The first farmer said ‘I’m tired of all these teenagers. They come into my fields and leave beer bottles, cigarette butts, and used condoms all over the place. They are making a mess of my land.’ Then he looks at the second farmer and says ‘How is your wheat? How is my wheat?’ The second farmer says, ‘Fucked flat.’” Creighton laughed as he listened, watching the blush as it crept up his wife’s face.

“What made you think about that joke after I made love to you?” he asked a few moments later.

“I feel like the wheat field.” Creighton laughed again, this time harder than before, and pulled her into his strong embrace. “I think you’ve accomplished your goal, sir,” she told him, snuggling closer to his strong chest. “I doubt I will be able to walk at all tomorrow.”

“One wheelchair coming up,” he teased, kissing her forehead before reaching down and tugging the blankets back up across them.

Sandra yawned as she rested her head against her husband’s chest, the rhythmic beating of his heart soothing her into a comfortable relaxation.

“Thank you,” she told him a few moments later.

“You’re welcome…for what?”

“For giving me the adventure, I’ve always dreamed of. For showing me what love is and for saving me from a life of boredom and drudgery. But mainly for loving me so much, you were willing to give me a new beginning.”

“I do love you Sandra and I would move heaven and earth to make you happy.”

“Remind me to thank Michelle for bringing you to Kansas.”

Creighton smiled happily as he pulled her closer to his chest, drifting into a comfortable sound sleep with his wife by his side.