Page 91 of Mob Princess

“Is there anywhere that won’t press against your back?”

The bullet hole allowed the doctors to pass the laparoscope in. Not their ideal method, but it prevented another wound site. That still has to heal as much as my inner abdomen now that there’s an organ missing. Pleasuring Lina is a serotonin and dopamine hit. It helped relieve the pain. But she’s right. Anything that presses against my back will hurt. I have to sleep on my side now.

I look around my place and spot my dining room chairs. I cup her elbow and guide her there, since she’s still restrained. I’ll do that properly in a just a few minutes. I grab a chair and turn toward our bedroom. She didn’t ask for a separate room and took her bag in there when we arrived. I know she was nervous assuming she could do that, but I love her bravery to do it, anyway.

“Go in our room and stand facing the side of the bed farther from the door.”

In my compromised condition, I can’t move as fast. I want to face the door just in case. It puts her closer to it because she’ll be standing in front of me, but that’ll only be for a couple minutes. I’ll remain the easy target.

I put the chair down and go to the dresser. I hurried through my emails while she showered so I could put away the things I got. As I pull out the drawer, I explain, so she doesn’t think I reduce, reuse, recycle.

“While I was on the first flight to Boston, I had time to do some shopping. I picked some things out for us. If you don’t like anything, say so. It’s not just about limits and safe words. Your preference matters. You can always tell me what you’re in the mood for. I may or may not oblige. But if you tell me there’s something you don’t want—besides when it might be a punishment—I will listen to you.”

“Punishment? I’m not a Little, Sean.”

“I haven’t started thinking you are. Nor do I want domestic discipline. But if you endanger your safety or the men tasked with protecting you, I will punish you. If it’s on purpose, you know better. If it’s on accident, then you should have thought better about your choices. If something happens that makes you feel unsafe or scared, and you don’t tell me, I will punish you. Your thoughts are your own, but I will demand to know what scares you. You will tell me. You are not someone easily spooked. If it’s bad enough to scare you, then I consider it a full-blown threat. If anyone threatens you, coerces you, guilts you, manipulates you, you will tell me. If you don’t, I will punish you. I consider those threats, too.”

I go back to stand in front of her and wrap my arm around her to grab her arse.

“You know what kind of man I am, Lina. You know I can be violent. I will never tell you how violent, and I pray you never find out. But there won’t be a shred of humanity left in me if someone hurts you.”

She swallows and nods. “Sean, I believe you. I need you to understand that is not one-sided. You won’t agree to that. I already know that, so you don’t have to tell me. But you will never change my mind. I told you I shot a shot glass out of someone’s hand. It wasn’t one of the short, stout kind. It was the narrow tube. There was less than an inch visible below her hand. I don’t regularly carry a gun, and I don’t want to even though I’m licensed to in Massachusetts. I’ve hunted with my grandfather. I’m a good shot because I’ve always wanted to be humane to the animals we’ll eat. But that humanity ends the moment I need to defend you and our future together.”

Her tone and the hard set of her jaw, along with the determination in her eyes, tell me I can argue until I’m blue in the face. I won’t change her mind.

“Thank you. You do not go looking for trouble. You do not instigate trouble. But I feel relieved you can shoot. And I won’t lie. It feels special to hear your conviction to protect me.”

“I know how I feel when you promise to keep me safe. It’s not a one-way street.”

Our kiss is gentle and quick before I let go. I return to the dresser and pull out what I want. I bring them back to the bed and spread them out on the comforter, so she can see what I plan to use. She looks up at me and nods, then turns to face the bed like I originally commanded.

I take the leather wrist cuffs and replace the towel with them, making sure they’re snug, but I can still get a finger between her and the restraint. I press her forward onto the bed.

“Turn toward me on your stomach.” She does it. “Bend your legs.”

I slide a leather garter beneath each thigh. Both have chains and hooks that fasten to the ankle cuffs I buckle. I snap a chain that connects the links between her wrist cuffs to the metal loop on her right garter. Once I see the position this puts her in, I grab two pillows to tuck under her shoulders and neck, so she doesn’t have to strain to hold her head up.

Then I strip. She only has a tank top on. I’ll take it off later. I move the chair, so it’s sideways. The back is toward the footboard. I rest my right knee on it, and it takes weight off my legs. I can stand like this for a while.

“Open for me.”

I fist my cock and point it toward her. I outline her lips with the tip before I tap her tongue.

“Lick.”

She does. The top, flicking the slit. Then the entire length. She does it over and over until my entire dick is wet.

“Suck.”

She only takes the tip at first, her cheeks caving. She inches toward the base, driving me to the brink of grabbing her head and shoving my entire cock down her throat. I let her have control since she offered this. I grip the chair back as my cock swipes the back of her throat. She gags, and I’m ready to pull back. She sucks harder. She’s still for a moment, and I don’t rush her. I feel her throat relax before she works me some more. I need the chair’s support to keep me upright. I drop my head back with my eyes closed.

Fuck. This is amazing. Hands down the best blow job I’ve ever gotten. Yeah, she knows what she’s doing. There’s no doubting that, but it’s Lina. It’s because it’s her. My subs had experience, even talent. But this transcends anything I’ve known. I have to tilt my head forward because I’m growing lightheaded. For a moment, I worry I’m overdoing it. But my mind clears. It’s Lina. It’s all Lina. It’ll always be Lina.

I keep telling myself that. It’s true. There’re emotions here I don’t recognize. They’re foreign to me. They’re both unsettling and reassuring in equal measure. I cup her jaw, and a wave of tenderness I haven’t experienced while a woman goes down on me crashes over me. Her eyes are closed as she concentrates. But she looks up when she feels my hand. She’s enjoying this, too.

“Mo stór.” My treasure.

The term of endearment rolls off my tongue. I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, and she redoubles her efforts.