Evie Ever After

Zap.

I felt my knuckles brush the brass railings of my headboard. “Grab hold,” he said close to my ear, “and dinnae let go.”

My heart pounded. Should I be nervous? We’d had a lot of creative sex, but never anything kinky. This was kinky. For me anyway. At least he hadn’t used handcuffs. Although if I disobeyed and let go, he could always lash my wrists to the headboard with my socks. Which reminded me, I still had them on. Arch has a thing for my collection of cartoonish socks. He thinks they’re sexy.

Definitely kinky.

My thoughts scrambled when he bit and sucked my nipples—no allergy medicine there. I gripped the brass rails and endured sweet ecstasy as he lavished attention on both breasts before kissing his way south. My heart raced as he kissed and nipped at my thighs, his warm hands urging my legs apart. I listened for the sound of his jeans unzipping and instead felt the pressure and warmth of his mouth down there, working magic. I bit back an enraptured, oh-my-God—no talking allowed—and settled on a lot of moaning.

Twice I almost climaxed. Twice he pulled away. Delirious with need, I wanted to anchor his head between my legs until I peaked, but…no touching allowed!

I could’ve ripped off the blindfold and taken back some control, but the experience was so erotic, so amazingly exciting, I didn’t want it to end.

I held tight to the headboard and endured Arch’s teasing. I squirmed and moaned, and when he finally took pity and tongued me to climax, I uttered gibberish which in my mind did not count as talking. Not that I could form a cohesive sentence right now anyway.

I lay in blindfolded darkness, breathing hard, heart racing, waiting for him to tell me to let go of the rails, only he didn’t.

“My turn,” he said, and my imagination galloped. Numerous erotic images pounded my brain only to be blown away when he mounted me missionary-style.

Given the kinky circumstances, I expected a fast and hard shag. But Arch wasn’t cooperating with my predictions. He took it slow. Achingly slow. My body trembled with delicious sensations as he tormented me with his thick, hard shaft, withdrawing completely before filling me once more.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he pulled off the blindfold and nailed me with a gaze that sent me over the moon. I relinquished my hold on the rails and latched on to his shoulders. I cried out his name. I came and I came and, “Oh, my God!” came.

Arch shuddered with his own release and dropped his forehead to mine.

My body and mind sparked and sputtered. “That was…”

“Aye.”

After a moment he rolled aside and pulled me into his arms. His heart pounded as hard as mine and he gazed at me as though I were the most beautiful woman on earth. I thought about how awful I looked and how wonderful he’d made me feel. He was right. I did focus too much on outer appearance. I thought about all the whining I’d done over the past few weeks. How I constantly compared myself to women in their twenties or Bond-type women and came up lacking. Yet I’d given a bad boy, a younger bad boy, a hard-on even with my less than perfect body slathered in chalky pink medicine.

I felt a shift deep inside. A snap.

I palmed Arch’s cheek, smiling when I noticed a pink smudge on his chin. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“Not the sex. Although that was…”

“Fan-fucking-tastic?”

I grinned. “Actually I was thanking you for the life lesson.”

“Just reciprocating, Sunshine.”

I blinked. “I’ve taught you a life lesson?”

“A couple, yeah?”

“Really?”

He kissed me. “Really.”

I wondered what, but I didn’t ask. That could wait. My need to exert my newly found confidence, couldn’t.

Looking down, I palmed John Thomas. “All tuckered out, big guy?”

“If he could talk,” Arch said, clearly amused, “he’d ask what you have in mind.”

I rolled out of bed, naked as a jaybird and more comfortable in my skin than I’d ever been. So, I looked like a flamingo threw up on me. So, I had a few smile lines and could stand to lose a couple inches in my hips. So, what? I strode to my closet and whipped out two costumes for his pleasure. “French maid or harem girl?”

Arch’s eyes twinkled and I knew he was a goner. “Bollocks.”

Yup. Toast.

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