Loving Authority Ch 13

Chapter 13 - Dance of Denial

Nothing could stop Emily and Mark's conversation that night as they lay in each other's arms, talking non-stop until the birds started cheeping and the bin lorries answered them with high-pitched bleeps as they reversed round tight corners.

"How

can

this make you happy though?" Emily asked, for at least the tenth time.

Mark answered patiently. "Em, I'm happy because you're happy. Isn't that enough? You have my full permission -- no, scratch that -- my full approval, to see Max again before he goes home. It's the last time we'll see him, and I loved it all.

Really,

" added Mark, as he saw Emily's doubtful look.

"Tell me the truth Mark! Why aren't you jealous? Don't you

care

that I had sex with someone else?" asked Emily, almost tearful, somehow making the dubious choices she had made a problem that Mark had to deal with.

Mark's even temperament served him well as he explained again.

"I care a lot, Em, but not in the way you think. It's called compersion -- the joy someone can experience when they see the people they love have good things. It's just positive thoughts really -- good karma, or something like that."

Emily scoffed. She wasn't sure she believed him, but she was glad he was being so nice about it all. She struggled to understand his reasoning -- she was sure she would have already packed her bags if the shoe was on the other foot, and would be in floods of tears, downing glasses of wine with Mary. She imagined all the horrible things she would do if the situation were reversed -- divorce, taking the house for herself, demanding half their savings (at

least

). And think of the reputational damage she could cause...

She cuddled up to him, shuddering at the awful thoughts in her head. The worrying thought that she wasn't a very nice person played over in her mind, and she tried to conjure up some positive vibes to wash the badness away.

What was the

best

thing in her life? The answer to that was obvious -- Mark.

She moved her hand over this chest, feeling his warm body beneath her fingers. She was certainly grateful that she'd married such an amazing, tolerant and wonderful man -- she knew she really didn't deserve him.

"Karma sounds good to me," she said after a while of quiet contemplation on her good fortune to have found him. "So are you a Buddhist now?"

"You know Hindus believe in karma too, right?" Mark replied. "And interestingly," he paused to waggle his eyebrows for maximum effect, "they have the Kama Sutra too."

Emily laughed, and finally, as the sun came up behind the mist to start another London day, the pair fell silent and drifted off to sleep for the hour that remained before the alarm clock joined the birds and the lorries in a morning symphony of beeps.

*******

Emily lay still, enjoying the stillness of the early hour. She felt surprisingly good, considering she'd only had two hours of sleep. This morning was the day after last night, if that wasn't too

Back to the Future

to understand. The bed beside her was empty, and she heard Mark clattering about in the kitchen.

Her mind wandered back to the crazy events of the previous evening. She'd always hated giving blowjobs, but now, well...

Maybe she'd rushed to judgment.

She remembered how Max had filled her mouth, the springy flesh of his head contrasting with the rigid staff behind it. It had been quite a thrill, now she came to think about it. She thought of how easy it had been to calm his temper -- the way he had fallen under her spell so quickly flattered her skill. Then she thought how she had wanted to please him, and how much she'd enjoyed the feeling of his hand on her head. Maybe it was the power-play in the room she had liked; Mark watching her, her pacifying Max, and Max bewitched by her moves. In that instant, the power she had held over both men had been intoxicating.

Emily rolled onto her front, burrowing her head into the pillow to find a comfortable position. She couldn't remember the last time she had masturbated. It must have been years ago - there was just no call for it in a healthy marriage. But this morning she felt different, and different felt good.

Beneath the covers, her hand slipped down her body to rest between her legs, her fingers pressing against the soft flesh.

That felt better.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pushed herself down onto her hand. She could hear the kettle boiling downstairs as Mark made tea. She had about five minutes to herself...

Emily pushed into her fingers before beginning to move her hips, rocking her pelvis in time with the slow, deliberate rhythm of her hand. She knew her own body. Her touch was familiar and comforting in a way no man could match. She let the sensations wash over her.

What was it about going down on Max that had aroused her? Was it anything to do with him at all, or had she just lost herself in the moment, taking pleasure in pleasuring someone else? And if so, why had she ever stopped doing that for Mark? Didn't he deserve

so

much more?

She ground her pelvis into the mattress as she dwelt on her memories, pressing her thighs together to trap her hand between them. Each rock of her body sent a shiver through her, the pleasure intensifying with each pass of her fingers. She closed her eyes.

Oh yes, that did feel good. Just there, that's the spot.

She imagined what might have happened if Max hadn't let her go when she'd wanted to stand, if he'd pulled her closer instead of letting her pull away. What would have happened if she'd continued to the very end -- if he'd come in her mouth? What if he'd held her head tight, refusing to let her get away when he had spilled his load -- would she have liked that too?

She worked her hips harder, the squeaking floorboards now adding their opinion. Her hand moved faster, the pressure more insistent as she sought that final release.

Just there, that's it, just theerree.

And what if... what if he'd asked her to

swallow

? It was a disgusting thought, and yet...

A light dawned in Emily's mind -- maybe submission

could

be sexy. Had Mark had been right all along, with his funny desire to serve her?

Five more hard thrusts into the mattress followed before Emily felt it -- the surge of pleasure that rippled through her. Her movements slowed as she rode the wave, her fingers now still but maintaining a firm pressure as her abdominal muscles jerked. She suddenly felt hot under the covers.

The kettle had finished boiling minutes ago, and footsteps were coming up the stairs. It would only be a few moments until Mark arrived with the teas; her lovely, dutiful, handsome man.

Her guy.

"Morning, Em," Mark called as he arrived in the room, a mug in each hand.

A small, contented smile played on her lips as she looked up to him with her big eyes, cheeks pink with heat and desire.

*******

Two days later, Mark leant against the kitchen counter, watching Emily as she poured a glass of wine. She'd been teasing and pawing at him for forty-eight hours solid, and her attention was driving him wild. The soft light of the evening played across her face, highlighting the excitement that lingered just beneath the surface.

"Two days to go," Mark said, his voice low and steady, though he could feel the thrill building in his chest. Emily looked up at him, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"I know," she replied, setting the wine bottle down. She took a sip, savouring the moment. "Are you nervous?"

Mark shook his head. "Not nervous. Just... excited. It's different this time, though. Knowing what to expect."

Emily nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Both knew what was coming, and that knowledge only made the anticipation more intense.

"How do you feel about it?" Mark asked, moving closer to her, his hand resting lightly on her waist. He could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress.

Emily nestled against him. "I'm excited too. I think about it every minute -- about how it felt, how you watched, how we talked all for hours." Her eyes met his, and Mark saw the spark of their shared memory.

Mark's grip tightened slightly, and he kissed her forehead. "It was incredible," he murmured. "Watching you, seeing how much you enjoyed it, then us being together afterwards... it made me feel closer to you. Like we were sharing something no one else could understand, not even Max."

Emily nodded again, her gaze drifting past him. "I think about how we cuddled together the whole night," she whispered, her voice almost reverent. "It was like nothing else mattered. Just us."

Mark felt a surge of emotion at her words. He kissed her, slow and deep, tasting the wine on her lips and feeling the warmth of her body against his.

He pulled away after a moment, but Emily followed his face with hers, continuing the kiss even as he moved. When they finally separated, her eyes were bright, her smile full of promise.

"Want to play?" she asked.

She didn't wait for Mark's reply as she pulled him upstairs.

*******

Once they reached the bedroom, she turned to face him, her eyes alive with desire. Without a word, she began unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers brushing against his skin with each movement. Mark stood still, his breath catching in his throat as she undressed him slowly, deliberately. The sensation of her touch was almost too much, yet not nearly enough, and he could feel the familiar ache of wanting her.

When she had removed all his clothes, leaving him bare before her, Emily took a step back, her gaze roaming over his body. There was a gleam in her eyes, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. Mark knew that look--it was the look she wore when she was in control, when she was planning to push him to his limits.

"Lie down," she said softly, her voice a mix of command and invitation. Mark did as she asked, his heart pounding as he stretched out on the bed. He watched as she reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the familiar pink handcuffs that had unexpectedly become part of their routine.

She climbed onto the bed, straddling him as she leaned forward to secure his wrists to the headboard. Her hair fell in a curtain around her face, brushing against his chest as she worked, the warmth of her body close.

Once his wrists were bound, Emily sat back, admiring her man. Mark was completely at her mercy, his arms stretched above his head, his body exposed and vulnerable; her desire for him grew stronger.

She began to explore his body with her hands, her touch featherlight as she traced the contours of his muscles and his solid chest. She moved slowly, exploring every inch of him as if he was Adam and she was Eve, man and woman giving into temptation for the very first time. Mark closed his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him.

Emily leant down and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, just above his heart. Mark groaned, his body starting to ache with need. Emily loved to draw out his pleasure, and he knew this was all part of the game.

She shifted her position, moving lower down his body, her hands continuing their slow, torturous exploration. She massaged his thighs, her fingers kneading the tense muscles, but always staying just out of reach of where he wanted her most. The sensation was maddening, and Mark could feel himself growing harder, the need for her almost unbearable.

"Emily..." he breathed, his voice thick with desire, but she only smiled, placing a finger to his lips.

"Patience," she murmured, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was enjoying every moment of it. Mark loved this side of her, the way she could take control and drive him wild with need and despair, yet still keep him wanting more.

She continued her teas-a-ture, massaging his muscles, sometimes playfully digging in her nails to elicit a gasp. All that mattered to Mark was her touch, her voice, and the exquisite torment of being married to this wonderful woman.

Finally, she stopped, her hands resting on his hips as she looked down at him. Mark opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. There was a moment of silence between them, a charged pause as they both revelled in the tension that had been building all night.

"You want more?" Emily asked, her voice soft, though he could hear the challenge in it. Mark nodded, unable to find his voice. He was completely at her mercy, and he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Without breaking eye contact, Emily stood before reaching under her dress and slipping down her underwear. The handcuffs clinked slightly as Mark tugged against them to watch. Emily was in complete control, and he knew whatever she had in mind would only intensify the aching desire that coursed through his veins.

She stepped out of her knickers, letting them drop on the floor. To a casual observer, the only difference in her outward appearance was her flushed face, but both people who mattered knew what must come next.

Emily climbed onto the bed and knelt over him, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. She spread her dress out over her lap, covering both herself and Mark in the light material so that all became hidden;

modesty first.

The heat of her body hovered just above his throbbing erection, and Mark groaned, his hips instinctively rising toward her. She grinned at his desperation.

"Do you like watching me?" she asked, her voice a sultry whisper, as she began to rub herself gently against his shaft, her hidden lips kissing and caressing him. The touch was exquisite yet, in this position, maddeningly insufficient for Mark; while she could easily ensure her own satisfaction by controlling where she was touched, any benefit to him was simply a sideshow. Mark's eyes locked on hers, his entire body taut with need. The sight of her moving over him, the feel of her body one his, sent a jolt of pure desire straight to his core.

"Yes," he managed to breathe, his voice hoarse with longing. "God, yes."

Emily smiled, her eyes dark with intent. She moved her hips more deliberately now, grinding herself against him, her own breath growing uneven as the sensation began to affect her. Mark could see how much she was enjoying this, but she was still in control, still holding back from giving either of them what they truly wanted.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Emily pulled away from him and slipped a hand between them. Mark watched, mesmerized, as she slid her fingers beneath her dress, her gaze never leaving his. He could see the slight tremor in her hand as she began to touch herself, the way her mouth parted in a soft gasp as she found the right spot.

The sight of her pleasuring herself above him was almost too much to bear. Mark's hands clenched into fists above his head, the cuffs biting into his wrists as he fought against the need to release himself and touch her, to feel her beneath his fingers. But he was helpless, completely at her mercy, and that helplessness only made him harder.

Emily continued to stroke herself, and she pressed down hard against his chest with her other hand, her weight alone bringing Mark to the brink of madness -- it took every ounce of his self-control not to beg her to take him inside her.

But she was teasing herself as much as she was him. After a few seconds - with an enormous burst of self-control - Emily withdrew her hand from beneath her, leaving herself unsatisfied. Her fingers glistened with her arousal and she held them up between them, her eyes locking onto his with a knowing smile.

"Open your mouth," she whispered. Mark obeyed without hesitation.

The taste of her flooded his senses as she slipped her fingers past his lips.

Emily watched silently, feeling his tongue swirl round her fingers, the sight of him so eager to taste her sending a fresh wave of arousal through her body. She pressed her fingers deeper into his mouth, letting him suck them clean, the intimacy of the act only heightening the electric tension between them.

When she finally pulled her fingers from his mouth, they were both breathing heavily, the air between them thick with unspoken need. Emily leaned down, her hair brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you so badly, Mark."

Mark's entire body strained toward her, desperate for the release she was keeping just out of reach. "Please, Emily," he groaned, his voice raw with need. "Please."

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, it seemed as if she might finally give in, and might finally take him inside her to let them both find the release they craved. But then, with a slow, deliberate shake of her head, she forced herself to stop. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her, and pulled herself back from the brink.

"No," she whispered.

She slid off him with agonising slowness, her legs trembling slightly as she stepped down from the bed. Mark watched her, his chest heaving, still handcuffed and helpless as she smoothed down her dress, her fingers shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Emily closed her eyes for a brief second, centring herself. She could still feel the electric charge in the room, their shared desire pulsing in both of them, but she knew this was the right choice. They had done this before -- teasing each other to the very edge, only to step back, letting the tension build until it was almost unbearable. When they finally came together, it would be so much more intense, so much more satisfying.

Emily walked back to the side of the bed, her movements calm and controlled now, even though her heart was still racing. She leaned over him, brushing a soft kiss against his lips.

"You know it's better this way," she whispered against his mouth, her voice still husky with the remnants of her own desire. "We'll enjoy it so much more if we wait."

Mark closed his eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. "I know," he murmured, though the tension in his body betrayed just how difficult it was for him to accept it. "You're right."

Emily smiled, feeling a warm surge of affection for him in that moment. She reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "I promise," she said softly, "it'll be worth it." She couldn't shake the thought of Adam and Eve enjoying paradise in the Garden of Eden.

Mark nodded, though he couldn't quite hide the flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

Emily straightened up, smoothing her dress down one last time before she reached to unclip the handcuffs. With a soft click, the cuffs released, and Mark brought his arms down, rubbing his wrists as he sat up. He looked at her, his expression indecipherable.

"You're incredible," he said quietly.

Emily felt a flush rise in her cheeks, her heart swelling at his words. "So are you," she replied, leaning in to press one last kiss to his lips. She paused to take a look at his still hard body, then turned and left the room, leaving Mark alone to dwell on his own thoughts and fantasies.