Page 88 of Newly Tied

“Next time,” he began, his hands on my sides, stroking slowly up and down, “I’ll have you ride me in your bed.”

“Oh yeah?” I croaked out, my voice trying to work. “Will we make it there?”

“I…that guy made it clear how close I got to this not working out.” He was quiet a moment, and took a quick breath. “Any one of those other clueless fuckers could have seen what a gift you are, stepped up their game, and made a play for your heart.”

I was going to tell him that it wouldn’t have mattered, that I was his from the first time he held me in the rain, but he chose that moment to lift up, gently unwrap my legs, and ease, with the utmost care, from my still clenching hole.

There was a gush of fluid I heard hit the floor, and his decadent chuckle made me smile as I looked up at him.

“Yeah, we need cleanup on aisle four over here,” he said smugly, looking quite pleased with himself.

“You’re givin’ lord-of-the-manor vibes,” I teased him, my feet now flat on the table, feeling like dessert or something he’d consumed.

“Well, yeah,” he replied, grinning like crazy, gesturing at me. “You look utterly ravished, and I’m digging it.”

I squinted up at him.

“No? Poor form?”

“Very,” I mocked him, sitting up, ready to get off the table.

“Just wait a second,” he ordered. “You’re going to step down and slip in cum, and I do not want to tell Doyle that’s the reason you have a concussion. The two of us would never live that down. Worst reason to go to the hospital ever.”

“Doubtful,” I argued as I sat up. “What about all those people who get things stuck up their ass?”

“True,” he said, walking to the kitchen and grabbing one of my two dish towels that were draped over the oven handle. He gently wiped himself off before tucking his cock back into his briefs. Flipping the towel over his shoulder, he then grabbed an entire roll of paper towels from the holder and got under my sink, into the cabinet there, and emerged with cleaning spray. “But still, not a great look for you.”

Only then, as he came striding back, open belt jingling as he walked, did I notice that his zipper was down, showing off his briefs, but other than that, he was still fully dressed.

“You didn’t even take your clothes off?” I was flabbergasted.

“Did you see me take my clothes off?” he asked playfully.

“You still have your gun holster on?”

“I love how out of it you are.”

“What the hell?” I asked as he knelt to spray the floor. “And you got cum all over one of my dish towels.”

“That’s what the washer is for, and you didn’t see me leave it in the kitchen, did you?”

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“Oh calm down,” he groused at me.

“What the hell was wrong with my bed?”

“I may have been a bit distraught,” he confessed, and I watched as he sprayed the floor and then dragged paper towels through the bigger mess he’d made. “That guy touched you, and spat out all that shit, and this is brand-new. Us being…us,” he said, tipping his head back to look up at me. “I felt like my heart was being squeezed right out of my chest.”

Getting off the other side of the table, it was round but not huge, I returned with the garbage can and used the pedal to open the lid for him.

“Thanks,” he said grumpily.

“My heart is all yours, Mr. Ross. No one else ever stood a chance. I was wastin’ time with others because I couldn’t have you.”

He exhaled loudly, threw away a ton of used paper towels, wads of them, too many actually, and then stood up. “You could have had me any time you wanted.”

“How would I have known that?”