Captured(80)

I give him the address, and we chat for a moment, but it becomes clear he has to go tend to his daughter. I say goodbye, hang up, and think about the next step.

That night Reagan is just out of the shower, towel clutched loosely to her chest, another around her hair. She sits on the bed, pulls the towel off her head, lets the other one drop to the floor. She brushes out her hair, and I watch quietly for several minutes.

“So, I was thinking about the farm.” I trace the line of her shoulder, down her arm.

She stills, sets the brush down, and holds the towel over her boobs. Probably for the best, because it’s impossible to concentrate on anything with those lush tits visible. “Yeah?”

“What if you sold it?”

She sags, puts her face in her hands. “I’ve thought about that so many times, Derek. I just don’t know if I can. It’s all that’s left of—of Tom’s family. And what would I do? This is all I’ve ever known.”

“I’m not sure I see much else by way of options, Ree. I think maybe you have to. For you. For Tommy. This isn’t…your place. It’s all you’ve ever known, sort of by default. But it’s never been what you wanted.”

“No. You’re right about that.” She breathes in a sigh. Rubs her face. “But then what? What do we do?”

“We start over. For us.”

“For us.” She repeats the words. Nods. “I need time to think about it, Derek.”

“Think about it. We’d figure something out.”

“Okay.” And then she’s brushing her hair again, but the towel slips, and so does my ability to resist.

I’ve still got my leg on, so I slip off the bed. I stand with my back to the wall, the side of the bed in front of me. She’s facing away, cross-legged, naked, long blonde hair cascading damp around her shoulders, brush sliding through it over and over and over. I lean forward, wrap my arm around her middle. Pull her backward.

“Derek, hey! I’m in the middle of—” she starts to protest, then looks back at me over her shoulder. Sees me, sees the hardened evidence of my desire. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” I keep pulling her, but now she’s got her knees under her, letting me pull her.

I bring her to me. Her feet touch the floor. She stands up, back to my front. I plaster her against me. She turns her head and finds my mouth with hers. I’m using the wall for balance and letting my hands roam as our mouths move. My heart soars, love for this incredible woman welling up inside me. She deserves more than this. More than endless chores and backbreaking work. And I’m going to give it to her. Give her more…of everything.

For now, though, all I can think of is her, wanting her, needing her. Showing her how much I need her.

My fingers slip between her thighs, finding her wet and waiting. Her lips fall away from mine as I touch her, finding her rhythm. Slow, gentle, but steadily building. She starts to moan, grinding against my hand. I tweak her nipples, cup her breasts. Let her ride my fingers, bring her to gasping completion. And while she’s writhing and moaning, I take a handful of her hair, push her down so she’s bent over the bed. I take my cock in my hand, find her damp shuddering core with my fingers, and guide myself in. Legs wide, balanced, I slide in, slide home. And she just moans, cries my name, and pushes back into me, taking me, taking all of me and giving back all of herself.

I hold her waist, keep her moving, show her my rhythm. She sinks back into me, turns her head to look at me, eyes wide and glazed with bliss, mouth falling open. When we’re moving, I palm her ass, smooth and gentle, and circle my hand around and around the perfect globes. And then I pull out slow, plunge in hard, and smack her taut, plump, perfect ass cheek at the same time.

Reagan bites the blanket to muffle her scream, and then lays her face against the bed. “God, god…damn, Derek. Do that again.”

So I do it again. Pull out slow, caress her sweet ass, the other side this time, give her a few teasing flutters of my hips, and then, without warning, slam in deep and spank her. I feel myself jerk and twitch. It’s hypnotizing, watching her ass quiver as I smack it. I spank her again, plowing deep into her. And she takes it, cries out, loves it.

When she feels me come, she does, too. And god, I love that more than anything, knowing she can’t help but come with me.

Finished, she crawls away from me onto the bed, and looks back, expectant, waiting for me to follow. I climb up, and she pushes me down, takes off my prosthetic, and massages the stump. Lays her head on my shoulder.

“I’ll find a way to take care of you, Ree,” I whisper to her as we settle in for sleep.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Will you do that again? The spanking thing?”

I laugh. “Babe, you have no idea.”

“Good.” She smiles, a secret smile of bliss. “And you’ll love me forever?” She’s looking at me, levered up over me, hair tickling my shoulder.

No laughter now. “Longer than forever.”

She lies down, nuzzles into my chest. “Then we sell.” A moment passes, her breathing evening out. “I trust you.”

That’s heavy, the weight of her trust. She’s going into this blind, willing to sell the only home she’s known for her whole adult life, and follow me, go with me.