Page 118 of Roped

“No,” I say quickly. “Not until you…”

He places another kiss on my shoulder. “Until I what?”

“P-punish me,” I say, licking my lips. “For breaking your rules.”

His hot breath fans my skin and he moves. He steps back and walks around to my front. Keeping his eyes locked with mine, he goes down on the floor. My belly trembles as I stare down at him on his knees. He leans forward and places a sweet kiss on my belly, making me moan again. Then, caressing my stomach, he says, “Just gotta do somethin’ first.”

I pull at the rope as shivers race up and down my body. “What?”

“Kneel at my wife’s feet while I put her on the best seat in the house,” he says, his hands moving up to my waist to grip me there.

“But—”

“And write an apology on her princess pussy with my tongue for bein’ late getting’ home before I punish her for bein’ too horny to wait for me.”

With that, he lifts me up, my legs coming off the ground completely, before he sits me on his strong shoulders and buries his face between my legs. And apologizes with his tongue, eating me out until I come. And then he keeps doing that until I come again, screaming and moaning his name, pouring my orgasm down his throat. Then, with me dripping down his jaw, he rises up and impales me on his cock. He fucks me with me still tied up to the ceiling and my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling me up and pushing me down as if he’s trying to jack himself off with my cunt. I have no control over this fucking except to hold on to the ropes and let him rut between my legs, his thighs slapping my ass, his fingers gripping my thighs, and pump me full of his cum. Oh, and come over and over again as he does that. All with his mouth panting against mine and his eyes watching me.

Hours later, we’re in bed, all showered and sleepy. I’m tucked into his body, my spine against his chest, my ass rubbing up in his lap, and I look behind me. His eyes are closed and his face is in my hair, but I know he isn’t asleep so I whisper, “Hey.”

A small flicker of his lips, alerting me of his smile. Before his arm moves, flexes to squeeze me as he rasps, “Hey.”

“How was your trip?”

He hums, nodding. Then, “Missed you.”

I smile. “I missed you too.”

He sighs, as if content.

“How was Lynnie?” I ask next. “Did she say when she’s coming to visit us?” And then I keep going, without waiting for his answer, “I want her to get here before the baby. Haven’s been sending me all these articles about the first few months, and I don’t think we’re going to have a single second to breathe when it comes. And I want to have plenty of time to spend with her. Plus, she has to show me her trick with the roses. Mine keep dying no matter what I do.”

After that night at Wildfire eight months ago, Radisson brought me back to his barn at Rawhide. We spent a few weeks there with everyone, including Reverie and Arsen, before we decided to move to his dad’s ranch. It wasn’t an easy decision for Radisson because he has been an integral part of Rawhide for so many years, but it was time for him to move on, to build his own life, live his dream. And those few weeks at his dad’s ranch were what we both envisioned our life together to look like so that’s where we went.

But not before he took me out on a date, like I’d asked him to, and proposed to me in front of the whole wide world. He also married me in front of the whole wide world, or rather in front of his family and my brother.

And then we came here. The first order of business was to get this place furnished while Radisson worked on getting the ranch up and going. While I selected furniture, he hired a couple of ranch hands. He bought equipment for the farm, got the stable updated to add more horses in addition to Tulip. It took us a few months to get this place going, but it was well worth it and I loved every single second of it. Turns out, my love for the land is ever-growing and now I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Since Rawhide is a few hours’ drive away, we do go back from time to time. Me, to see my brother and Mom. And Radisson, to see Lynnie and to take care of occasional business at Rawhide. Not to mention, to handle stuff for the Rawhide Redemption since he wasn’t only the foreman of Rawhide, he was also the enforcer of their illegal prison program. These days, Mars handles it all by himself—with some help from Axton; although I’m not very clear about that part because certain things happened with Ax that no one, especially Mars, was happy about. But anyway, Radisson helps out from time to time. Mostly as a favor to Mars but also because beating up criminals and forcing them to repent is an integral part of him. Violence still runs in my husband’s veins, but it’s not driven by anger anymore. It’s simply something that lives side by side with his dreams and hopes. And somehow, I love him even more for that. For having such a strong sense of justice and morality, however twisted it may seem to the world. To me, it makes him a savior.

The green-eyed and masked savior who came to my rescue all those months ago.

We also visit Arsen and Reverie at their ranch since they don’t live at Rawhide anymore either. It’s only a few hours away, too, and I’m glad because it turns out Reverie isn’t just my best friend; she also happens to be my half sister. Unbeknown to all, my father had an affair with her mother a long time ago and the result was Reverie.

As for the past, we’re slowly leaving it behind and letting it rest. It started with him finally killing my father. After weeks of keeping him in his cabin. Anderson too. I don’t know what all he did to them; he never told me and I never asked. But from what I can assume, it wasn’t pretty, and when it was over—as in, when he’d finally killed them—he didn’t have to tell me. I could read it on his face, in his body, when he came back to the old barn one night and held me to him all night long. He didn’t sleep and neither did I. We simply lay there as he held me in his arms and kept kissing me on the forehead. When the morning came, I asked, “Is it over?”

And he nodded. “Yeah.”

And I knew. Since then, no one has asked about my father—we told everyone it was a stroke that took him—and no one came for Anderson either. So I’m guessing whatever Radisson did, the Graysons and my brother helped cover it up. Good. Since then there are still times when his demeanor does get dark; his nightmares don’t let him sleep; his headaches bother him. But he’s able to bounce back from them. He’s able to talk about them, about his past as well as the future. Talk about our life together. So no, it’s not easy, but it’s ours. Our life, our story, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Radisson?” I call out when he doesn’t answer. “Are you sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

I poke his ribs. “No, you’re not.”

“Only ’cause you won’t stop gabbin’.”

“You could gab with me.”