Risqué Business (Club Risqué #8)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

C hristian surged to his feet, panic squeezing his chest. “No! Don’t say that. It’s not what I want. Not at all.”

Taking a step forward, he pulled Trinity into his chest and crushed her to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re right. I have been feeling bummed about my mother, but that’s no excuse for not getting on board with this.”

He pulled her down onto the couch with him, and Trinity rearranged herself so she was straddling his knee, but his little pixie still didn’t look happy.

“Are you sure, Christian? I know I said I wanted to be married before the baby’s born, but honestly, I feel like I’m having to twist your arm, and that’s not a situation I want to be in. We have our history, and I’ve made my peace with that. But I don’t want to feel like I’m making you do something you don’t want. I’d rather just cancel everything.”

Hurt shimmered in the depths of her silver-grey eyes, and Christian knew he’d messed up. He hadn’t meant to. He wanted to marry Trinity more than anything in his life. He loved her. He’d loved her even when he was too blind to see it and had stupidly married someone else. And he’d lost her because of it. She’d been such a comfortable part of his life, he’d taken her for granted. Failed to see what was right in front of his eyes. He never wanted to risk losing her again. Not for anything. Not even his mother.

Cupping her face in his palms, he gazed earnestly into her eyes. “I am absolutely positive, sweetheart. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. The day you agreed to marry me was the happiest day of my life, and the only thing that will ever beat it will be the day itself and the birth of our child.”

He rubbed his thumb over the silky skin of her cheek. “I didn’t mean for it to get to me and start putting a downer on things, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t holding out a tiny bit of hope that the wedding - the baby - would bring my mother out of the woodwork. That maybe she’d want to be involved… want to be a part of her grandchild’s life, even if she doesn’t want to be a part of mine.”

His voice broke on that last part, and he had to stop and swallow down the emotion in his throat. “But I guess, since she hasn’t responded to anything we’ve tried, I’ve gotten my answer to that, too.”

“Ah, honey…” Trinity curled her arms around his neck and held him tight while he composed himself.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair. “As long as I have you, everything will be fine. And you were right to kick my ass. I know I’ll regret it if I let the whole planning stage pass me by.”

“I do understand,” Trinity said softly as she leaned back and dropped a sweet kiss on his upturned lips. “Spending this time with my own mother has made me think about Krista a lot. I’m sorry nothing we’ve done has worked out the way you hoped.”

“We’ve tried our best,” Christian replied, resignation colouring his tone. “What we can’t do… What I can’t do, is let it cast a shadow over what should be the happiest day of my life.”

“It’s okay to be sad about it, Christian,” Trinity murmured against his lips, but the way she wriggled around on his lap had already distracted him from that particular conversation, and he deepened the kiss until they were both panting lightly. Then he swept Trinity up in his arms and strode towards the bedroom.

“I can think of better things to be doing on our day off,” he retorted, feeling lighter than he had in days.

She laughed, a soft sound that echoed around their quiet apartment, creating a moment of peace amidst the chaos of their lives. Her arms draped loosely around his neck, fingers tracing gently across the nape. "All right, then," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

Carrying her with an effortless grace, he kicked the bedroom door open and laid her down on the bed. The late afternoon sun filtering in from the window bathed the room in a soft glow. His lips curled into a half-smile as he gazed down at her. Her face was flushed, eyes alight with warmth and anticipation.

"Then let's not waste any more time dwelling on things we can't change," he said, leaning over her. His fingers skimmed along the curve of her waist, making her shiver under his touch.

Trinity responded by lifting herself up slightly to meet his lips again, effectively silencing him. Their bodies moved in harmony with each other as they got lost in their own world.

Trinity’s hands wandered over Christian’s shoulders and back, pulling his shirt from his waistband and making slow explorations as if she was trying to memorise every inch of him.

“I want to do bad, bad things to you,” he whispered as he deftly peeled her clothing off.

“Go on then,” she teased, flinging her arms wide like she was some kind of offering.

A wicked intent lit Christian’s eyes, and he reached down to the large drawer underneath their bed and pulled out a length of rope.

Trinity’s eyes widened with anticipation. She bit her lower lip, her gaze never wavering from his, as his fingers expertly coiled the rope around his palm. A shiver ran through her and transferred itself to him. Ice and fire at once. He knew she felt it too. This was always how it was with them.

Chuckles rumbled in his chest, a low and dark sound that seemed to echo around the room. "You trust me?" he asked, leaning over her again, the rope hanging innocently between them. It was a game they played.

A laugh bubbled from her. "With my life," she responded confidently. His heart hummed at her words - that simple, unshakable trust that made him feel like he could conquer the world. It was all he needed in his life.

Gently, he began to bind her wrists together above her head, leaving just enough slack for comfort. His fingertips brushed against her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt wherever they passed.

He straddled her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her exposed figure. Trinity’s chest rose and fell; a silent siren’s call that drew him down to taste the sweet promises lingering on her lips.

"You look exquisite like this,” he murmured against her mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, tracing the curve of her collarbone. Her soft gasps elicited a hum of satisfaction from him, the sound reverberating through his skin.

Her bound hands instinctively reached out to him, and he caught them with his own, their interlocked fingers creating a connection that went beyond the physical. He looked down at her, his gaze softening as he studied her features. In this moment, she was everything - all he desired, everything he needed.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, every word a secret meant only for her, every phrase imbued with promises and declarations. "You're mine," he said finally, his voice a low rumble of possession as he bit down on a pouting nipple.

Trinity bucked and gasped beneath him. He knew her breasts were so much more sensitive now she was pregnant, and he used it to his advantage.

Her eyes met his with a raw intensity that made him catch his breath. The room filled with an energy that was almost palpable.

He shifted his attention to her other breast as he traced his fingers down her side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His movements were tender yet deliberate, exploring the changes pregnancy had brought to her body.

"Beautiful," he breathed out, the corners of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he watched her writhe beneath him, bound by his ropes that marked red patterns on her smooth skin and by the invisible ties that bound their hearts together.

She tugged at her restraints as he moved lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her belly that hosted their unborn child.

“You don’t have to be so careful,” Trinity reminded him. “Xavier said it was okay for us to play like usual for now.”

It was useful having a bona fide doctor as a member of their kink club.

Christian reached into the drawer again and pulled out a flogger. It had long, soft fronds that would be gentle. He knew she loved it when he used her for his own satisfaction. Knew she loved the pleasure-pain he loved inflicting on her. But the baby changed things, whatever the doctor said. So, while he wouldn’t deny her, he would be careful. There was more than one way to skin a cat, as Doctor Xavier himself liked to say.

Christian held it up for her to see, his eyes glinting with the promise of exquisite torment. "I want you to count for me," he instructed, running the fronds over her bare skin.

He lifted the flogger high and brought it down on her exposed breasts. She gasped out a soft ‘one’.

Her reaction engendered something deep inside him; a primitive need that had been lurking just beneath the surface. Again, he struck her with the flogger.

“Two," she whimpered, arching her back to meet each strike. He worked his way slowly, savouring each mark and imprint that graced her body. By the tenth stroke, she was writhing and panting beneath him, each number falling from her lips like a plea.

When he finished, he discarded the flogger and knelt between her legs. His hands rested at her hips as his mouth lavished attention on her sensitive flesh. Her moans filled the room, adding to the intoxication of their shared desire.

“Please, Christian…” She begged so exquisitely.

"Yes," he purred, his voice a low rumble in the silence of the room. "Beg for me, love."

He moved a hand to where she needed him most, sliding a single finger inside her. Her soft whimper was like music to his ears. He added another finger, creating a leisurely rhythm that had her squirming beneath him.

"I need..." she gasped, arching up into his touch. "I need..."

"You need what?" he teased, pulling back slightly. He loved drawing out her pleasure, loved hearing her beg.

"You... I need you," she moaned, and the raw desperation in her voice nearly undid him.

A grin spread across his face as he leaned down to press a kiss against her belly. "You have me," he murmured against her skin before positioning himself at her entrance. “I’m yours.”

Christian leaned on his elbows and watched her face as he slowly pushed inside. The way her eyes fluttered closed, and a soft sigh escaped her lips made his heart skip a beat. He began to move slowly, savouring each moment being joined with her.

Her bound hands twisted in the sheets beneath them as her body moved in sync with his, their breaths matching in rhythm and intensity. The apartment was quiet except for the rhythm of this delicate dance as it built to an exhilarating crescendo. The room was filled with their shared heat and quiet noises of pleasure.

He felt her tightening around him and thrust harder, faster, needing Trinity to rid him of the last of his demons. Needing her to remind him to live in the present and not the past.

The two of them chased each other to the pinnacle of passion, and together, they dived off the edge, free-falling into a chasm of bliss that nothing on this earth could compete with.

Only the sounds of their ragged breaths filled the bedroom. Sweat poured off their bodies, cooling the jagged heat between them.

Untying her limp wrists, Christian sank on top of Trinity, both of them sated and satisfied. He forgot about his mother - his worries, fears, and uncertainties. There and then, Christian decided to embrace all the things he did have and forget about those he didn’t.