Page 73 of For the Win
“Raise a glass to the four of us.”
As I head toward the back of the pub, Seamus shakes his head with a knowing smirk and I blush. “Someone’s waiting for you.”
“Really?” I ask innocently before disappearing down the familiar hallway.
“Anybody here?” The office door is ajar, but I don’t see my?—
Michael drags me close with one hand and locks the door with the other. “Are you done playing spy with your friends?”
“Pub Beast? Is that you?” I tease.
“It had better be me you’re expecting,” he growls against my neck.
As if I’d ever want anyone else. Love anyone else.
“Calm down, Demir.” I turn around and slip a hand between us, fiddling with the top button of his pants and watching his eyes home in on my lips. “You remember this was your idea, right?”
His lips twitch. “I was getting in character. Growly dragon, at your service.”
He kisses me, and it doesn’t take long for the desire between us to spiral out of control. It’s always like this, and I hope it always will be. I’m mad for my husband. And our dogs thatare currently visiting his nephews. And our life together. I don’t know why I was ever anti this kind of commitment. I’ve never felt safer in my life. Or more adored.
I also liked his idea. To make a new memory here to replace the old. No emergencies and no goodbyes, just returning to the scene of our first kiss to do all those things we imagined we would do, but never got around to.
I lift my mouth. “Should we feel guilty about doing this with Seamus right outside? I mean, it is his office.”
“From what my brother tells me, they’ve done worse over the years. Now come sit on my lap and tell me if you’ve been good or not.”
There’s no way I’m saying no to that. “Yes, Santa Baby.”
Three weeks after that…
Michael
“We should leave soon.”
I don’t lift my head from Win’s stomach, licking and biting his smooth, salty skin. “Where do you think we’re going?”
“Jake invited us to dinner. The Finn Again thing. You and Natasha were making dueling desserts.”
I glance up to see Win writhing on the bed beneath me. His dark hair is damp with sweat, eyes covered with the blindfold, and his trembling arms are over his head, hands clutching the bed frame a little desperately.
He can’t do anything else with those pink, fuzzy handcuffs on his delicate wrists.
I’ve kidnapped my siren again.
He’s been completely at my mercy for hours now. I’m enjoying taking my time with him, something that’s not that easy to do when he touches me, or looks at me with those irresistible eyes of his. I remembered the sleep mask from the cabin, and surprised him with the blindfold when he got home from a visit with his friends today. They were planning the next summer camp for July while I was planning this.
He's all mine now. I may have to share him—he’s a social animal who loves his family—but we always make the most out of our alone time. And he never gives me any reason to doubt how much he loves me.
I’m a very happy man.
I study the erection that’s flushed and damp with precum against his stomach. “Are you hungry, Win? Is that what’s distracting you? Or don’t you like what I’m doing?”
“I love it,” he says, his voice raspy from all the begging he’d been doing before he tried to remind me about our dinner plans. “I’d love it more if you’d finally let me come instead of teasing me when I can’t break free to tease you back.”
He’s still getting used to being out of control. But when I told him about my interest in restraints at the cabin, he remembered, getting us a few pairs of comfortable handcuffs to experiment with. Then, a few weeks into our relationship, he told me I seemed to like edging too and, after he described what it was, I realized it was true. I love being inside him, love watching him come, but having him here like this, his entire being focused on my every touch,yearningfor it, is deeply gratifying.
How could I ever have believed I wasn’t that sexual? That I didn’t think about it or need it all the time?
