Rings of Fire Ch. 09

Please note - this is a series. A long one that began with the prequel, The Arrangement. It continues with three other as yet unwritten books. The apocalypse is not coming fast (unlike Lauren and Brent). Think Game of Thrones & Walking Dead. If you don't have the patience for that, or it is not your cup of tea, I understand. Literotica is home to a plethora of excellent short stories. But this is not one of them...

***

Lauren's world shook like a nine on the Richter scale as Brent's lips captured hers. This kiss was not sweet nor tentative nor comforting. It was her husband claiming what was his. What honestly always had been and always would be. But at that moment, she did not care as she wrapped her arms tighter about his neck and gave as good as she got.

She pressed her breasts against him as her nipples hardened within the thin lacey bra. She knew he felt them by the deep rumble at the back of his throat. When his hands abandoned her waist to cup them, she would have sworn she almost came from the way his fingers pinched and tugged through the thin t-shirt and bra. She was the one moaning then.

She knew that this was not going to be one of their long, slow burns like Kilauea's almost constant eruptions. No, this was Mount Saint Helen's. Quick, fast, and powerful. And that was just what she needed then.

When Brent's hands abandoned her nipples, she whimpered and pouted like a child denied its favorite toy. But she did not have much to worry about as his hands slipped between them, undoing her jeans and pushing them down her over her hips.

She was not sure how they managed it, but she wiggled them the rest of the way down her legs and kicked them off while Brent pushed the worn t-shirt up just enough to reveal her lace covered tits. He made equally quick work of the bra, just pushing it aside to free her engorged breasts for the skin-to-skin contact they so craved with this man.

And they did it all without breaking the fiery kiss. Then her fingers were tearing at that belt buckle. But it was frustratingly slow, at least to her mind. Brent's hands pushed hers aside and finished the job.

He turned them so that she was against the desk as he lifted her onto it. Her first orgasm raced through her even before he was inside her. Her muscles contracting so tightly made it a battle of nature's forces for his cock to get inside of her, but Brent was not deterred.

One orgasm built into the next and the next and next. It was not even like a roller coaster as there were no dips or valleys; each thrust only pushed her higher and higher like the engines on a rocket ship. Until she finally did leave the earth's atmosphere. She floated weightless and breathless with the stars bursting all around her. She felt freer and more alive than she had in...

Then the whole mountain exploded, its north side giving way and bursting outwards as Brent plunged deeper than she would have thought possible. Her legs wrapped about his waist to hold him to her as two forces of nature fully merged like one tectonic plate slipping beneath the other, leaving some of itself forever behind. And the other sprang forth, rising from the ocean floor to tower over it.

Lauren was not sure how long they stayed locked like that. It could have been mere seconds or an eternity. Her first thought as she began the descent back through the layers of earth's atmosphere was, "Where is the rain coming from?"

Brent chuckled, and she moaned as his half-hard cock slipped deeper inside her. She lifted her hips and ground her pubic bone against his as a decent-sized after-shock exploded in her core. When that too passed, she finally managed to open her eyes long enough to see her ex staring down at her with that winsome, eat-shit grin that she knew meant he thought he had won.

She shoved at him reluctantly. It was not that she wanted him to go anywhere. Her own body called her every name in the book as he leaned back just a bit and half slipped from her body. She bit her lower lip hard to stifle another whimper.

But the look in his blue eyes told her that he knew. That fueled her anger at his arrogance. "Damn it, Brent, you're sweaty."

***

His grin broadened as he had to unlock her legs from about his waist as he stood up. He moved so quickly that she was caught unaware and could not stop the needy moan as he withdrew entirely from her. This time he had the good graces to look away, though merely to hide an even bigger grin.

Did Lauren even realize the significance of her words? Not 'fuck me' but 'make love to me'? And while this one might have been hot and heavy, over far, far too quickly, the next time he was taking his time.

And not in one of the available cabins either. No, in his bed, where she belonged. Their bed. And screw a meaningless piece of paper, their marital bed.

Now all he had to do was find her damned shoes. It might be fine for them to walk the short distance half naked, but not barefoot. He smiled, though he was not above carrying her. He inhaled, and his cock stirred to life again...already. Damn, he supposed it had seven years of loving to make up for too.

He scooped her jeans up off the floor and paused for a long moment as it occurred to him, "They're under the desk, aren't they?" he quizzed.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Your shoes. You had taken them off earlier, hadn't you?" he teased as Lauren blushed.

It was yet another reminder of just how well they knew one another. She nodded her headed as she stared at her bare feet on the cold tile floor.

"I always loved how you did that," he said as he began to unbutton his shirt.

Lauren shook her head, "What are you doing, Brent? We can't, not again," she stammered. "We shouldn't have the first time...not here...anyone could find us..." She paused.

He chuckled again, and her blush deepened, "It is after midnight, sweetheart. No one is even up, except us. Early to bed and early to rise around here," he teased her.

He had missed teasing her like this. It was how their whole relationship had gotten started actually. Her never-ending questions that challenged all his theories always brought forth the incessant need to tease the troublesome little brat. It still did. Of course, there never had been anything mean-spirited about it.

"But Megan just brought me dinner," she protested, looking even more confused now.

He chuckled at how easily she lost track of time. If he were the stereotypical 'mad' scientist, then she was the absent-minded one. When they were together, he had always assumed the responsibility of making sure that she ate properly and got enough rest. The weight loss said that it was a task that had been severely neglected, but no more.

He motioned to the barely touched plate of cold food on the desk, "That was hours ago, darlin'. I would have come for you sooner, except Megan said you thought you were onto something. So, I helped Grandmam and Katie get the girls to bed and checked on a few things first."

***

She nodded her head slowly. It was not uncommon for her to lose track of time when she worked, when they worked. It was a trait they shared.

She tried her best to dampen the smile as Brent shrugged out of his shirt. His bare chest always made her smile. It had become her favorite pillow since the first time they had...

Made love. She reluctantly used the words he had chosen on the plane. She always hated to admit when he was right, but it seemed that he might be more often than she liked. If not the magnitude of seismic events, at least about their impacts. And the impact of his body on hers was a proven scientific fact.

She was so caught up in that thought that she almost did not catch the shirt as he threw it to her. "Put this on."

She shook her head, "Give me my jeans, and I will get dressed, Brent."

"Why, darlin'? We are just taking a one-minute walk to our cabin. Then that sexy ass of yours is getting some rest. You have worked hard enough today. Besides, there is nothing else you can do now. Not unless..."

"We get more data points," she nodded. "But still someone might see us. What would they think? You shirtless and me wearing..."

"They would think that we had been fucking our brains out. Which is exactly what we have been doing," he teased, and the lines around his eyes softened. "But everyone is asleep. Like you should be. Besides, my shirts always were your favorite nightwear. So, get dressed for bed here."

"What will the girls think? Grandmam?" she argued as she complied with his order nonetheless.

"They won't see, because you are sleeping in tomorrow. You have done your part; now the rest is up to us. I don't want to see your sexy ass out of bed before noon, do you understand me?"

She frowned, where had this new, more demanding Brent come from? She was not entirely sure she liked it. Well, certain parts of her might, she reluctantly confessed as the tingles in her tummy multiplied exponentially. "We'll see," she replied as she buttoned the shirt.

Brent walked back, standing so close that she could feel the heat of his body in the mere centimeters that separated them. His hand cupped her jaw and forced her face up to look into his eyes, "You will do as I say."

She chuckled, "Since when, Brent."

She jumped as his hand came down hard on her outer thigh, "Since now."

She wanted to argue, to tell Brent where he could shove his new domineering attitude, to remind him that the world did not work that way anymore. That women had come out of the cave over a century before when they got the right to vote.

But all of that froze in her lungs as he bent over and wrapped his strong arms about her knees. Then she was flying as he stood once more. Her body was bent over his shoulder as the next blow landed solidly on her bum. She began to plummet his broad back with her fists as she demanded, "Let me down, Brent. Damn it, this is not the Paleolithic period, and we are not Neanderthals."

He just chuckled as he turned and walked out of his office, "We shall see, darlin'. We will see."

***

Brent smiled as he carried his struggling wife the scant fifty feet or so to his cabin. The way that her tiny fist pounded at this back was more a nuisance than painful.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she demanded, "Put me down, Brent."

"Can't, sweetheart. You're barefooted, and there are spiders, snakes, scorpions, and all sorts of nasty things in West Texas deserts," he stretched the truth as he opened the sliding glass doors.

"Brent," Lauren whispered once more.

"Shh, babygirl, you'll wake the girls," he teased as he covered the short distance to his room, kicking the door closed softly behind them as he dumped her in the middle of his bed.

"Brent, I told you I was not sleeping in your bed. I don't want Megan finding out..."

He shook his head as she began another of their whispered arguments that had been the hallmark of the last couple of years of their marriage. But he had a new way of dealing with that as he rummaged in his closet, looking for his old ties that he rarely wore anymore. He found the half a dozen or so that he had kept for some ridiculous reason, mostly because they had been presents from her.

He tucked them behind his back as he turned back to her with a smile, "Our bed, Lauren. And it is where you are going to sleep from now on," he asserted.

She glared at him, "You have lost it this time, Brent. I told you for a week. One week..."

He only needed to take a couple of steps so that he towered over her, "That was before, Lauren. Do you think I am letting you go back there? Even your conservative calculations illustrate the risks we are facing."

"At Grandmam's age, what do you think the vog will do to her lungs? You know that the elderly, the sick, and small children are most at risk. And our girls? You, yourself, admit that this could be the tipping point of already unstable governments. How are you going to protect them if something happened?"

He smiled as he watched the play of emotions over her face. They both knew he had her. She would never put the ones she loved at risk, "Besides, you're forgetting, there are no-fly zones over most of Europe right now. Especially in England."

"But Jason has..."

He nodded, "Yes, Jason might be able to do it. But right now, I can't divert him from other more important tasks. Besides I would not trust even him with the most precious cargo in the world to me," he said as he sat on the bed next to her.

His fingers gently traced the lines about her generous lips as he saw the tears begin to gather in those deep green pools. He knew this moment well: the one where the real human cost of their work began to dawn.

And he pressed his point home, "You know it is true, Lauren. You won't risk Grandmam or Elise. Hell, in a world turned on its head by famine and death, you and I both know what can happen to pretty young girls like Megan too."

He saw the tears slip from the corner of her eyes as she nodded her head slowly, "Besides, sweetheart, the truth is that you want this too. You want me back. You have missed me. What we share. And not just the hot sex either."

He bent and kissed the corner of her mouth, "You missed how well we work together as a team. Me the ideas man and you the statistician that makes it all come together. You have not found that in the past seven years any more than I have."

She looked up at him, "But Monique..."

He chuckled as he placed his finger over her lips, "Could never be you and you know that. The damned woman agrees with me too much."

He moved his fingers as he slowly bent his head. He stared only at her lips until he saw her run her tongue across the bottom one. It had always been an unspoken signal between them. Her way of telling him that she wanted his kiss as much as he needed to taste her. And he gave them both what they wanted.

His lips and tongue savored her more thoroughly than even the best Texas barbeque. He took his time. Drugged her with the slow familiarity of their love until she was whimpering and leaning into him.

Brent was eternally grateful to the foreman of his father's ranch where he had spent the weeks of his summer when not at science camp as he tied a slip knot into one tie without looking. He might not remember the name of the former rodeo cowboy that had been there just a couple of years, but he could never forget the rope work he taught him.

He smiled as he gently laced his fingers through hers as he slipped the silky material over her wrist. Just to be certain, he deepened the kiss as he pushed her back against the pillows. He trailed his fingers slowly down her arm as he lifted it into position. He wrapped the other end of the tie around the metal bars of his wrought iron bed, his one luxury in this place.

He quickly tied it off as he continued to distract her with the kiss. He hoped that she would not notice until he managed to get the other tie into place. Perhaps she would even think he still held her wrist. It was a game they had often played in the past, him holding her down as they made love. And why he had the nerve even to try these games.

He might not be as kinky as Daniel or Samuel, but after years of listening to their gentle teasing, he was more than a bit curious to try at least a bit of the bondage and maybe some of barehanded spanking on that soft, round ass of Lauren's. His cock got even harder at the thought of turning it a delicate, warm pink as his fingers finished off knotting another of the ties.

He was beginning to repeat the process of slipping it gently over her wrist as she began to struggle under him. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he held it tightly. She struggled and broke free of his kiss.

Her eyes were huge as she stared up at him, "What the fuck are you doing, Brent? This isn't funny. I'm not into this kinky shit." She glared at him as she fought to free her hands.

"Really, sweetheart? You didn't like it even just a little bit? Having your hands tied up with your bra? You don't enjoy it at all when I hold your hands down above your head as I fuck you?" he challenged her.

"Having you hold my hands is different, Brent."

"How, Lauren? Because this way I can use those hands to explore this ripe, beautiful body. I can touch you, please you," he inhaled deeply.

He knew why, he understood. His beloved wife needed control. More accurately, the illusion of control. That was what attracted her brilliant mind to science. That was why she had chosen such a conventional career path. Why she eschewed all the alternatives therapies, he had suggested for Elise.

He knew why too. Her parents' divorce when she was just six, had left her scarred. In some ways as much as a burn victim. Perhaps worse, because no one saw her scars. She hid them behind the perfect mask of conformity, normalcy, and convention.

But her scars were costing her. Costing them; had cost them their marriage, seven years apart. And if he did not confront them now, perhaps as cruel as it sounded, force her to look in the mirror at them, they might cost them this second chance. And this time it could well be permanent. Worse yet, it could cost their daughters. Hell, already had.

He felt like a bastard. Perhaps even a bit guilty. His mind shied away from the word, but a rapist. He did not want to force her like this. He always preferred to woe her. To love her. But he had tried that seven years ago, and he had failed. He had lost her and half of Megan's life, most of Elise's. This time the stakes were even higher. He could not lose. He would not.

He finished off tying her other hand and bent to kiss her forehead as his now free hand gently caressed up her inner thigh from her knee towards her bare cunt, "If you hate this so fucking much then your sweet pussy will be dry and unresponsive?" he challenged.

If he had any doubts, they were allayed by the way her cheeks burned red as she turned her head away, unable to meet his gaze, "Fuck you, Brent."

His fingers continued their journey, burying themselves deep inside her very wet cunt and sending his wife rapidly spiraling into an orgasm as he felt her muscles tighten and clench like a vise around them. He continued to move them in and out, making sure to press against her sweet spot that he had learned so long ago.

Her head thrashed against his pillow. He loved the play of auburn hair against white cotton. But he missed staring into the green depths of her eyes as she came. And he missed the sound of her sweet moans and whimpers as she bit down hard on her lower lip to deny him the satisfaction.

Perhaps that was for the best though with the girls just down the hall. He certainly was not going to push his luck by using one of the ties as a gag. But maybe in the future...

If there was one, and he was going to do all he damned well could to make sure there was. Even pushing her beyond her comfort zone like this.

He slowed his fingers and allowed her orgasms to recede slowly even though her body continued to squeeze rhythmically in tiny aftershocks for several moments.

When those big green eyes looked up at him, his resolve faltered at the massive tears in them, "Fuck you, Brent...fuck you," she cried.

His heart stuttered in his chest. He felt a total and complete bastard. And only the high stakes that he was playing for in this game kept him from folding.

He held her gaze as painful as it was to see those tears slip down her cheek. He withdrew his fingers from her body as it gave a final last squeeze. He brought them to his lips and tasted her sweetness as their gazes held. She tried to look away, but his other hand captured her jaw and held it immobile as he bent and tasted the bitter, saltiness of those tears. Then he leaned in and tenderly caressed her lips once more, sharing her tastes, pain, and fears.