Love in Slow Motion

44. Quinn

44 QUINN

I wake to a warm heat on my stomach and open my eyes to see Reed lick his way up to my breast and take my nipple into his mouth. I gasp, my whole body immediately going taut.

I sink my hands into his hair, and then reality sinks in, and I try to sit up, even with the weight of half his body on me. “Wait. What are you doing?” I ask, trying to shove him away as I look toward the open bedroom door.

Open . As in, anyone could just walk by any minute.

Reed chuckles against my skin. “They’re all gone. Everyone went into town, even Chase. We’re all alone.”

I feel relief first, but then his words really sink in and my skin begins to hum. “Alone?”

He smiles up at me, devious and sexy. “Alone. And I want to make you scream.”

My pulse immediately picks up speed. Yes. Yes, I want that, too. I want him to make me scream so loud that I go hoarse. “Please,” is all I say before he moves up to kiss me. I don’t know how he does it, but when he kisses me, it’s almost like I don’t need anything else. I love the sex, but the fulfillment I get just from his mouth on mine is almost shocking.

I pull away and turn my head to let him suck at my neck. And that’s when I see the belt laying on the bed beside me. The same belt Reed was wearing earlier. The one that made me almost lose myself entirely when he whipped it off in one easy, harsh glide. Just seeing it now, harmlessly beside me like that, has a shiver moving through me. Because I know why Reed brought it in here.

Like he can read my mind, Reed grabs the belt off the bed and then scoops me up in his arms, carrying me out of the room.

“Where are we going?” I ask as we move down the hallway.

He scoffs. “Not even I hate my brother enough to fuck his ex-wife in his bed. I doubt I would even be able to get it up.”

Something about the way he says it makes me giggle, even as I can hear the sound of the belt hitting his thigh with every step he takes.

He tosses me onto the couch and immediately starts to take my clothes off, ripping my shirt over my head and undoing my bra. It feels sexy and scary to be doing this in the living room of the Lynch lake house. It feels like anyone could walk in. But I trust Reed. I know he would never put me in that kind of position.

He presses his forehead to mine, breathes heavily against my mouth. “Did you like what you saw earlier?”

I nod, biting my lip. “You looked so delicious, I could have died.”

His mouth stretches into a smile. And then his hand fists into my hair and he yanks my head back, making me gasp. Against the skin of my neck, he says, “I’m going to show you you’re mine. Are you going to be a good girl and take it?”

My stomach flutters with nerves. “Yes,” I say hesitantly.

Reaching down, he slips my shorts and underwear down my legs until I’m bare. And then he says, “Get on your knees on the couch. Hands on the back of it.”

I do what he tells me, draping my arms over the back of the couch and settling on my knees, letting my ass stick out. He makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, and when I look over my shoulder at him, I realize he’s rubbing himself through his pants. He’s still fully dressed.

“Reed,” I whisper, the word coming out needy, and like I shook him out of some kind of trance, he stands up quickly, folds his belt in half, and spanks me with it. I choke a little, my whole body turning into white hot need. It doesn’t hurt the way I thought it would. I’ve never been spanked or paddled or anything during sex, and even though seeing him with that belt in his hand earlier turned me on, I wasn’t sure if I was going to like this.

But I do. I like it a lot. It’s just enough pain to be startling but not so much that I’ve immediately crossed into territory I’m not ready for.

When I sigh and set my head against the soft back of the couch, Reed chuckles. “So filthy,” he says, running his palm down my ass and the outside of my thigh. “You love it, don’t you?” I don’t miss the pride in his voice, what it means to him that we’re taking this chance together, searching for new parts of ourselves.

I don’t answer. Mostly because I want to say yes, but it feels like it makes it a little more exciting if I hide how much I like it. So, I stay quiet as his eyes meet mine, searching. But I feel the smile curling up the corner of my mouth, and when Reed’s eyes drop there, I know I’ve given him his answer. Given him permission.

Snap. The belt hits me again, and I whimper. It’s like there’s a direct connection between how hard he hits me and how wet I am.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he says, and my chest starts to pull tight. Because it’s a game but it’s not, at the same time. “Tell me you belong to me.”

I stare out the back window of the house, my vision full of blue lake and green trees. I have to separate myself from this. I’m terrified that if I let myself feel, I won’t be able to undo it. I squeeze my eyes shut, keep my mouth clamped.

Snap.

“Tell me,” he growls, his voice more demanding. Are we still playing? Was it ever a game at all? “Tell me who you belong to.”

I bury my face in the leather couch cushion. “You,” I say, just barely a whisper.

Smack.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours,” I shout, turned on beyond belief, desperate with need. “I belong to you, Reed.”

One of his hands grasps one of my ass cheeks. “Such a good girl,” he says. “Do you need a reward for that?”

I nod, feeling wrung out. “Please,” I squeak out, all of my emotions taking their toll on me. “Please, give it to me.”

He squeezes my hip, and the belt falls to the floor with a clunk . “Such a greedy little slut,” he says, his mouth touching my hip. He bites down on my skin.

I cry out, squirming, trying to relieve some of the pressure between my legs, rubbing my nipples against the couch like a cat in heat.

“Not yet,” he says, his voice gentle. He settles his hand between my shoulder blades, like he’s making sure that I keep my upper half against the back of the couch, before sliding it down my spine and then yanking my hips back. And then I feel his tongue between my legs. I moan, immediately moving against him to try and get him to lick inside of me. I feel so empty, and I need something inside me, his tongue, his fingers, his dick, I don’t care.

But he just laps at my clit, licking all the way up to my opening and then starting again, like he’s trying to make me wet, trying to keep me on the edge, without actually giving me any kind of relief. I set my cheek against the couch, focusing on breathing, on keeping myself calm. I have a feeling the more I beg, the less he’s going to give me. I just need to give in.

My muscles relax, now that I’m not straining for him anymore, and Reed seems to sense my surrender because he immediately dips his tongue inside me. My hands ball into fists in the fabric of the couch, and I groan. He spends a second pumping into me and then his tongue slicks up, moving between my cheeks.

My mouth falls open and an inhuman sound escapes my mouth when his tongue prods at my asshole. I’ve never had anyone do that to me before, and when his tongue pushes past any resistance at the same time his fingers plunge into my pussy, I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the sharp rush of pleasure.

“I’m going to come,” I whisper, my mouth flush against the couch.

“What’s that, baby?” he pauses just long enough to ask. But then his tongue re-enters me, and I can’t repeat myself because an orgasm grips me, my legs shaking and my fingers digging into the fabric beneath me.

When I come back down, Reed moves to sit on the couch beside me, still dressed, only his shorts pushed far enough down to free his cock, pointed directly up at the ceiling. He pats me on the hip, and that’s enough to tell me he wants me to climb onto his lap.

We move without speaking, until I’m lowering myself onto his cock. He slips in so easily; my orgasm has left me soaked. We moan together, holding each other’s gazes as we start to move, slow at first and then faster and faster.

I didn’t know it could feel like this. I didn’t know that sex could be something that binds you to a person, that makes you feel like you’ve somehow melted into one. I don’t feel like I belong completely to myself anymore. I know that part of me is his now. I know that no matter what happens, I’ll never feel exactly like this ever again.

I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. “I just feel so—” My voice breaks, and I want to grind my teeth in frustration. I can’t cry on him again. I can’t do this emotional thing, can’t say a bunch of things that will be impossible for me to take back once this trip is over and I never see him again.

But with his arms around me, I can’t even explain it. I feel like he’s holding me together. Like if he lets me go, I’ll shatter, never to be put back together again. His big hands splay across my back, and I want him to dig his nails in, mark me so that I can’t convince myself, someday down the line when this is nothing but a distant memory, that it never happened.

“Say it,” he says into my ear, his voice a rumble. “Tell me what you need to tell me.”

“I feel so safe with you.” The words burst out of me in a huff.

His hands drop down to my hips, and I feel him pushing at me, even as we keep moving, keeping thrusting against each other. He tries to put space between us, to unwrap my arms from around his shoulders, but I hold on tight.

“I want to look at you.” When he pushes again, I give in, sitting up straight until I can see his eyes. His hands come up to hold my face, and I feel cracked open down the middle.

He holds my gaze that way he does, so fearless and sure, pressing his forehead to mine as our hips slow, until it’s just a gentle rocking. I feel the stubble on his jaw under my fingertips, memorize the feel of it.

Oh, God, please don’t do this to me. Please don’t make me feel this way.

But I know it’s too late. It’s far too late.

I’m in love with him. It feels like something starting in my stomach and stretching out inside me until it’s all I can feel, not quite pain and not quite pleasure. It’s just wanting . It’s just the need to never let him go. To beg him to never let me go.

But I can’t. It’s not an option. So I kiss him, kiss him and hope that the thing that has stretched itself inside my body will somehow spread to him. Let myself live in a fantasy where we could somehow be more than what has happened here this week.

We kiss as we start to move again, kiss as we grip each other hard, kiss until we both come, shouting into each other’s mouths, making as much noise as we can. Just this once.