Rings of Fire Ch. 07

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Part 8 of the 15 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 12/07/2012
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Tara Cox
Tara Cox
2,494 Followers

Warning: This chapter contains light bondage and spanking. The type that couples do within a committed relationship. I still believe it belongs more in the Romance category than BDSM. If such things offend you, then skip one of the hottest chapters of this book.

***

Clothes flew almost before the door closed. Her fingers ripped through buttons on Brent's shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. They tarried over his warm skin, caressing the corded muscles of those broad shoulders. She smiled, as hard as those muscles looked and felt, they were still her favorite pillow, comforting and secure.

Of course, at forty his body was no longer that of the athlete he had once been, but in some odd way, she preferred the few extra pounds that he now carried. It made him more 'real,' more 'human,' more 'approachable' for someone like her. She had always found Brent irresistible, perhaps more so in this mature and slightly padded incarnation.

Brent's hands were busy too. His fingers tugged at the button on her jeans until it sprang free. Then he jerked her t-shirt from where it was tucked into her jeans, pulling it over her head. The fresh night air caressed the skin on her chest and stomach as he tossed the shirt across the room.

The hungry look in his eyes as they took in her breasts clad only in sheer pink lace was enough to warm her once more. And the low growl that was torn from his throat as he lifted his hand to cup and caressed her left breast sent an answering heat coursing through her.

Lauren closed her eyes and reveled in the firm, sure caress. When his calloused fingers found her nipple, she moaned at the intense sensation of the roughness. Her breasts filled his hands to overflowing. He squeezed the soft flesh gently.

His other hand came up to cup and weight her right breast, repeating the process through the soft material that hid nothing. Her nipples puckered into tight buds as his thumbs brushed slowly back and forth across them. Lauren cursed the bra that kept her from feeling his touch against her bare skin.

"Please," she whimpered as she opened her eyes looking up at him, pleading for more.

Brent chuckled. "You say I'm the one that has no patience. Seems to me, sweetheart, that it is always you that can't wait." His eyes darkened with emotion as he removed his hands from her breasts, stepping back a bit.

"This morning was hard and fast, baby girl. Tonight, I'm gonna take my time. I'm gonna touch and taste and love every inch of that lush body of yours. I'm gonna get to know it all over again. And I'm gonna remind you of what we've both been missing these past seven years, Mrs. Jacobs."

Lauren shivered. She recognized that look now. Determination. Sheer, stubborn determination. Whether it was finding an answer to a scientific problem that intrigued him or breaking a horse or getting what he wanted from her, it was a look that Lauren had seen hundreds of times. A look that meant almost certain victory. Only once had it failed - the day that she signed the final divorce decree.

Lauren was not sure that she could stand even a single night of the type of lovemaking that he described. Hard and fast in the desert heat had been enough to singe the synapses in her brain. What would slow and determined do?

Thinking fast, she tried distraction and seduction of her own. She lowered her eyes and stepped forward. Her fingers traced the dusting of hairs down his stomach to where they disappeared into his jeans. Her fingers toyed with the button there. "I need you now, Brent," she whispered.

He shook his head and smiled as his fingers covered her hand. He pulled it back from the button on his jeans as he spoke, "Then just imagine how badly you're gonna need me after I've kissed and licked every corner of your body."

To accentuate his words, he brought her hand to his lips. He began with a light kiss in the center of her palm. But that soon turned into a soft lick. How did the guy manage it? His lick was ideal; not too sloppy wet but not dry either — just a perfect reminder of a different kind of wetness that was building between her legs.

Her throat tightened impossibly as he drew her ring finger into his mouth. He stared deep into her eyes as he applied gentle suction, slowly pulling her hand back until just the tip of her finger remained between his lips. He nipped at her finger. Just enough pressure and pain to bring pleasure.

"Something is missing, sweetheart," his hand turned hers over, and he placed another soft kiss in her palm. Stepping forward, he drew her into his embrace. He smiled at her like a little boy with a new toy, "But not for long."

Lauren opened her mouth to set him straight. To remind him of their deal. But Brent was not interested in words. His mouth covered hers. There was no preamble. No soft kisses that built. This was a full out assault on her senses. His tongue swept inside her open mouth. Waging war against hers, taking no prisoners.

The battle was over quickly. Lauren surrendered with a whimper of pure feminine need. But still, Brent fought on. His tongue parried and thrust. Doing exactly what he had told her, he would, learning and tasting every nook and cranny of her mouth.

Lauren hated her body. Hated the heated pleas and whimpers that she was powerless to stop. Hated the way that it shook and curled about Brent. Curled about him like a cat, rubbing and pleading for his attention. But she did it anyway. Her body betrayed her, and she did it all.

***

Brent's hands moved slowly up her arms and shoulders. His lips never left hers as his hands trailed softly across the area. His fingers made quick work of the clasp at her back. She moaned into his mouth as he loosened her bra. Brent smiled against her lips as his hands moved slowly back up her arms to her shoulders.

His fingers brushed softly back and forth across the soft skin there. He traced her collar bones. And he continued the assault on her senses with kisses like a man dying of thirst. His tongue boldly swept inside her mouth until the pain and emptiness of the past seven years faded into the background. Even worries about the future, volcanoes, and Ice Ages could not withstand this heat. Every thought except the taste, smell, and feel of this woman disappeared.

Only when she was whimpering and rubbing her body against his like flint sending sparks to light the kindling, only then did Brent gently push the straps off her shoulder and down her arms. Their fingers entwined as the bra came free on one side, slipping down her arms until it pooled and dripped between them.

Brent drew back from the kiss with a sigh. He released her fingers but kept firm hold of the lacy confection. He brought it slowly to his face, rubbing its softness against the stubble that covered his cheeks. He smelled it, drawing in her scent. It should not be sexy, sniffing underwear. But he had missed the smell of her, the subtle fragrance of roses laced with pure Lauren. It was his drug, and he was jonesing for a fix.

"I like this a far sight more than that industrial white boulder-holder that you were wearing this morning."

Lauren blushed, "My breasts are not boulders." She lifted her arms to cross about her chest, but Brent stopped her, his hands firm on her arms. He swore that her nipples tightened even more as he looked at her breasts.

"Baby, those tits are a thing of real beauty. I remember the summer you came to science camp, the summer after they developed. I couldn't pay attention to a damned thing that any of the professors said. All I could think was where those things had come from."

He chuckled, "Of course, I knew all the science of puberty and where they had come from, but that did not stop my adolescent mind from its fascination with them."

Lauren dropped her eyes, "You were so distant that summer. I thought I had done something wrong, said something wrong. I was afraid you didn't want to be friends anymore."

Brent placed his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face until their gazes met. "Oh, sweetheart, you were thirteen years old. And I was a stupid kid of fifteen who had no idea what the fuck to do when his best friend suddenly grew from a little brat that followed him around and bugged the ever-living hell out of him with her questions, questions that he did not have the answers for. Suddenly, she was not a kid anymore. But she wasn't a woman either, and I knew better than to give into the feelings I had."

His hands cupped the round flesh once more. His thumb brushed back and forth across her nipple as he whispered, "But we aren't kids anymore, Lauren. And there's not a damned thing stopping me from living out every single fantasy I had that summer. Laying in that hard bunk bed, surrounded by five other dweebs that I knew were having the same fucking fantasies that I was about these. You don't know how hard that summer was."

He chuckled as he tucked her bra inside the back pocket of his jeans. He pressed forward against her thigh, rubbing himself against her. "How about we find out how hard things can get tonight, sweetheart?"

He did not wait for her answer. His lips captured hers once more in another searing kiss. One hand remained on her breast cupping and kneading the softness, but the other went to the small of her back. It drew her against him tighter still until she could feel every inch of his hard flesh pressed into her. He moved them then, using his hand at her back, he guided them the few steps across the room to a couch against the wall.

When the back of her knees hit the hard surface, he dropped his hand from her back. The movement was so quick that Lauren did not have time to right herself, falling backward into the soft cushions. Brent towered over her as he spoke. "You're still overdressed for what I have in mind, Mrs. Jacobs."

He knelt on the floor between her spread thighs. He lifted her foot and made quick work of the tennis shoes and socks that she wore. When he finished, he brought her foot to his lips. He nipped and sucked at her big toe before repeating the process with her other foot.

This time he playfully nibbled each toe, "This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none." He paused as his hands massaged her instep. Smiling, he added, "and we'll get back to this little piggy later."

His hands trailed from her foot up her denim covered legs. His fingers traced the seam that ran inside her thighs. When the trail ended as those seams converged at the conjuncture between her thighs, at her very core, Lauren drew in a quick breath and held it.

Brent looked into her eyes as his fingers traced circles in the material, too light to feel, but too evocative not to. Lauren's hands moved to the zipper, but he brushed them aside. "No, no, sweetie, that's my job."

She whimpered again, "Then do your damned job, Brent."

"Patience, patience, sweetheart. We have all night," he whispered just inches from her lips now.

***

Lauren's body strummed and surged with the bent up need. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out with the force of it as Brent once more turned to his deliberate teasing, cupping her core in the palm of his hand he lowered his face towards her bare breasts. He hovered just above them. His hot breath caressed her skin as his fingers cupped and released her core.

Lauren thrashed on the couch, trying to get up, trying to end this torture, to take what she wanted. But Brent held her down with his hand between her open thighs. Suddenly, Brent gathered both of her hands in his other one. She felt something soft wrapping about her wrists.

She looked up to discover that Brent was tying her bra about them. She increased her efforts. Fear and panic rose in her. This was a game they had never played. Bondage was not something that Lauren fancied.

The child of a bitter divorce, trust had never come easy for her. This game robbed her of the control that she so desperately needed. Required a level of that trust that she had never known. Had no desire to know now.

"Brent," she pleaded as she fought him. "Don't do this."

He stopped then. His face was mere centimeters from hers. His eyes found and held her gaze. "I would never hurt you, Lauren. Never. You know that, right?"

The pleading tone in his voice tightened an invisible chain around Lauren's heart. A chain that not even a divorce decree and seven years apart could unlock. A chain whose key Lauren feared was lost long ago.

"Brent," she whispered once more.

His response was a soft, sweet kiss. It rocketed her through time to another kiss. Their first. She had been sixteen. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed as the saying goes. It was Brent's last year at science camp, and they had stayed out late talking, too late again.

Walking along the deserted beach, they had stopped to watch the waves. The waves of the ocean that they knew separated them. Lauren had wondered aloud how she would ever survive science camp summers without him. In the soft moonlight, he had taken her hands in his and drawn them to his lips.

They both knew things were changing forever that summer. The nerdy kids that they had been were gone. The future uncertain. There were no easy words, false promises to be broken. Brent had said nothing.

Instead, he had looked deep into her eyes and lowered his face slowly until their lips touched. Just lips and hands, but it was the most fantastic thing that she had ever known. It probably still was — the perfect first kiss.

This kiss was as soft, as gentle, as sweet. And held as many unspoken promises as that long-ago memory.

Lauren was stunned. Unable to move or think. She was stuck once more in a tsunami of feelings. It was not a comfortable place for her.

She fought back. Testing the bonds about her wrist, but they did not give. She wriggled beneath Brent. Turning her head to the side, she reluctantly broke the spell-binding kiss.

"Brent, let me go. I mean it," she protested.

***

"Naughty girl," he said as his palm came down hard on her outer thigh. She jumped in shock as she stared at him, her eyes wide as she struggled against the bonds.

But Brent had other ideas, his hands repositioned themselves on either side of her hips, holding her down firmly. "Now, where were we?" he teased. Then he blew softly across her chest.

Brent bent his blond head, laying it between the round globes of her breasts. His face buried in her flesh. He stayed like that for several long moments. He truly was in no hurry, as he had told her. He wanted to enjoy the soft feel of her skin against his. And her smell again drew him under her spell. Some primitive and ancient act between their simian ancestors repeated.

When Lauren's struggles began to take a decidedly more erotic turn, becoming more about seeking out his touch than freeing herself from his bonds, Brent gave her a taste of what she wanted and needed. And taste it was, as he licked and sucked at her engorged breasts. His mouth fulfilled the promise he had made, tasting every single millimeter of her flesh.

Sensations rocketed through him as he licked, nibbled, and toyed with her breasts. It seemed an eternity as he teased and tormented her with his mouth. He was rock hard and his jeans tight and confining. But the discomfort allowed him to keep his focus.

And he was focused. Focused upon loving her and binding her to him in a way that no piece of paper ever could. He knew now deep inside that she still loved him. That no divorce decree could end that. That she had missed and needed him just as much as he had her.

The problem was convincing his stubborn, red-headed wife of that fact. But he was determined that was precisely what he was going to do. Even if he were wrong, and his gut told him he was not, but even then, even if the world as they knew it went on and on, it was not right, not complete without her by his side. And he would do whatever it took to show her that. To, for once, prove her unprovable theorems.

He licked the underside of her breasts. First one and then the other until he ended in the middle. Slowly he trailed his tongue down her stomach. When he got to her belly button, he stopped. As with her breasts, he blew softly across its surface. Then licked around its edges, like water swirling down and down the drain, his tongue drew deeper and deeper into the recess. He used his hands to lift her hips, bring her closer to his mouth. Then he sucked softly at the center before continuing his trail of kisses lower.

When he reached the top of her jeans, he paused. He smiled up at her. "Now we can get rid of these," he pronounced slowly in his deepest, sexiest Texas drawl that he knew drove her wild.

But instead of using his fingers to quickly deal with the offensive material, he used his teeth instead to toy with it. The process was mind-numbingly slow. Chinese water torture with a sexual element.

The button was difficult. Once or twice, he almost gave up, but he had never been a quitter. When it finally gave way, he smiled as he looked up at her. Her upper teeth were pressed so tightly into her lower lip that it was turning white around the edges.

He smiled wider, knowing that meant she was trying to hold back moans. But not for much longer, he would make sure of that. She was no longer fighting the bonds around her wrists, but he was not stupid enough to comment on that, knowing it would just incite her to do so again.

He turned back to his task. Once the clasp on the zipper was securely between his teeth, he made quick work of that. He looked up at her once more as he slipped his hands inside the soft denim and pushed it down her hips. This time, not even her teeth buried in that pouty lip could hold back the whimper that spoke volumes about what this little game was doing to his wife.

Damned good thing too, because it was fucking living hell on him. He swore that his cock was going to burst his zipper at any moment. He had always exerted patience and caution with Lauren from that first kiss they shared at space camp until the moment he had taken her virginity, never had the stakes been higher than now. This was make or break...and he was not about to lose. Not again. His mind could not even comprehend the pain of a lifetime like the past seven years.

He forced his mind from that path onto the more pleasant present as his fingers tangled inside the soft lace of her panties but instead of taking those with the jeans he smoothed them back into place, another layer of torture to be dealt with later.

Brent shifted where he knelt on the floor, trying to find somehow a more comfortable position, one where his jeans were not so fucking tight, pressing uncomfortably against his throbbing cock. He was not successful and cursed under his breath as he finished the job, drawing her jeans off first one and then the other leg.

He held her gaze as he lifted her foot. "Oh yes, I promised I would get back to this later, didn't I?" he asked as he bent his head to lick at the sole of her feet. His hands held the heel of her foot as his fingers worked magic on the arch, kneading and massaging.

The action brought back other memories. Lauren had always loved his foot massages, especially when she was pregnant. The moment she got home from work, he pampered her with warm baths, herbal tea, and massages that were mind-blowing. He gave new life to her feet, hands, head, and back with his touch. Until the stress of her day and the extra burden of carrying their babies inside of her were eased, and she could rest, relax, and sleep comfortably.

As if reading his thoughts, something he swore on occasion that they could do with one another, she spoke, "You know you missed your calling. Screw science; your gift as a masseuse is impressive."

Tara Cox
Tara Cox
2,494 Followers
12