Ribbons Not Included Read online

  Ribbons Not Included

  Demi Alex

  A Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe tale…

  Just when I thought I had it all together, just when I thought my life was perfect, Christian comes out and accuses me of only wanting him as a stud horse!

  Not true. I love him. I do.

  It's Christmas, and I'm searching for the perfect present to convince him that he's my number one priority. I'm trying everything to spice up our love life-from sexy lingerie, to new positions, to different locations. But then he pushes me too far. I'm not sure I can do it.

  Demi Alex

  Ribbons Not Included

  A Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe Tale

  You know who you are, my friend.

  But do you know how much your support is appreciated?

  Enjoy your story.

  Hugs, Demi

  Chapter One

  I held my breath and checked my watch. Ten minutes exactly, and the test band was way darker than the guide band.

  Yes!

  The time was right.

  I adjusted my boobs, fit them into the tiny straps of lace, and then checked my ass in the mirror. A quick little slap to bring some color to my lower cheeks and I was ready for Christian.

  Stepping outside my comfort zone, I slipped my feet into my highest fuck-me heels and tapped through the bedroom feeling the heat collect between my thighs as the chain around my waist jingled my arrival. I was so damn horny, that I would have had to go it alone if the test hadn’t said it was LH Surge time.

  It had been nine days since the last time we’d made love. All the books said that doing it too often reduced the sperm’s ability to reach the egg and successfully fertilize the little sucker. I wasn’t willing to risk it. We needed super-sperm, and we needed it now.

  Don’t get me wrong, Christian was willing to look after my needs, but the guilt in the one way action was eating me up. And besides, the last time we tried that, I couldn’t stop myself with just a little taste of him. I ended up pinning him down, straddling his face, and feasting on his heavenly cock till we were both spent.

  Just the thought of his lips on me made my pussy ache and my clit throb. I missed him terribly, and I was so happy the time was right.

  “Christian, honey, please come?” I called, perched on the sea of pillows I’d placed on the bed before taking my shower. Amused with the double meaning of my question, I smiled and wet my lips. Please come, haha.

  “Give me a sec. It’s fourth and five.”

  Damn, he was still watching the game. What did he want from me in order to get off the couch and meet me in the bedroom for a bit of our own sexcersise?

  Truly, I was trying to add zest to our sex life as he’d suggested. But at the moment, I was all done up and ready to fuck his brains out, so I felt like a wanton woman, rejected by the man she loved and needed when he continued watching the game. I struggled to put my pride aside, struggled to concentrate on the big picture. We needed to have sex tonight in order to take our relationship to the next level. And if that meant I needed to shed my inner prude, I would.

  I waited, shifted a little to the right so that my left breast spilled to the side. I played with my exposed nipple, preparing for a night of pure delight. In truth, I expected him to stroll in, totally unsuspecting, and pop a boner so freaking stiff at the sight of me playing with myself. It always turned him on to watch.

  Time passed and I tried to get in the mood on my own, but self-stimulation wasn’t cutting it. I wanted Christian on a much grander scale than what he’d accused me of. I missed him, too. I needed him more, and I’d prove to him how much.

  “Come on, honey. I want to show you something.” And I did. I never lied. I had spent the afternoon with an artist-extraordinaire tattooing a henna Super Spermy, with Popeye-sized biceps and a Superman cape, wagging his little tail in a swim for his life above the dimple on my lower back. Christian always rubbed his thumb on that dimple when he entered me from behind, telling me how much he loved it.

  From behind was good. It shot semen quicker and stronger to the goal. Maybe I’d ride him the second time around?

  “Is everything okay?” Christian asked- his ass obviously still plastered to the couch.

  “Yes.” I sighed and twisted my hair in a wicked spiral around my finger. “Hurry up. I really want to show you something.”

  “Then bring it in here,” he said. “There’s only a few minutes left, but we’re down by six. We’re going to force a fumble now and run it down the field. We’re so pumped. We’re going to win this one.”

  Stupid, stupid football. Why had I ever agreed to the new television set, which took up half our living room?

  I let out a long breath and got out of bed, recalling our latest argument: the television set and our demure sex life. Well, that was in the past. But, before I seduced him, I had to get rid of evidence that my enthusiasm was any bit ‘mechanical’ or motivated by anything other than my desire and need to make passionate love to my husband. He had to know how much I wanted him, had to know how much I needed to have him show me how much he loved me-in every physical way possible.

  Balancing on the uncomfortable black, strappy stilettos, I tried not to click too much as I returned to the bathroom and stuffed the box from the test into a drawer. I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror and admired the creamy curve of the tops my breasts. If things went as planned, they’d be much fuller soon and that only meant that Christian would want to suck on them more. Christian’s mouth was made for my nipples. It wasn’t uncommon for me to come from that simple act as I ground up against him.

  Game over.

  Time to get things heated and melt some of the ice on our winter windows. I wasn’t wearing these damn shoes for my health. I was wearing them because Christian liked to throw my legs over his shoulders and feel the heels scrape into his shoulder blades as my body bowed and begged for him to let me come.

  But Christian was so into the freaking game that he didn’t turn to look at me as I entered the living room. So, I decided on the direct approach. No more waiting around.

  I sauntered right in front of him, gave him my best damn-you’ve-kept-me-waiting look and crossed my arms over my chest, aware that my tits were pushed high and my nipples were about to spill over the lace material. I spread my feet, feeding his imagination on how wet my trimmed curls would be when he removed the tiny black strip of lace that led to my belly button.

  “I have needs,” I said, raising my foot and placing it squarely on his crotch. “And if you don’t meet them, I’ll have to find some other way.” Inserting my finger into my mouth, I swirled my tongue around the tip and eyed him as seductively as possible.

  “Move over, Kat. There is less than a minute of game time, then I’ll meet your needs.”

  Damn. My pulse raced and my nails dug into my palm. I made the first move and he blew me off. He’d picked the game over me.

  Just because we were married, just because our sex life had been good up until we decided to try for the baby, didn’t mean he could dismiss me like that. I wasn’t something to pass the time with. I mattered.

  The baby. Actually, what really mattered was that the timing was right for conception. I didn’t have the luxury of being pissed. We’d work out the rest. We always did.

  “I want you, now,” I cooed, batting my eyelashes in a desperate come hither plea.

  “In that case, how can I refuse?”

  Shit. That was the quickest attitude adjustment ever.

  He moved my foot off his crotch and unzipped his fly. Taking his cock into his hand, he proved me that he wasn’t looking to put me off any longer. He was more than a little erect and ready to go.

  “Sit on the table, baby.” Usin
g a very distinct and appealing appendage, he motioned to where he wanted me on the coffee table. “Spread those beautiful legs of yours and unsnap the teddy so that I can see the sexy treat that you’ve prepared for me.”

  I did as he requested, and he nodded his approval. He stood and dropped his jeans to the floor. Stepping out of them, he kicked them to the side and kneeled in front of me.

  “It’s been a long time,” he said, cupping my aching center and sliding his thumb between my moist curls to my clit. “You’d better be ready for me because I’m going to explode the moment I’m inside you.”

  “I’m ready,” I replied, reaching for him.

  “Don’t be a bad girl.” He swatted my hand away. “You do as you’re told or they’ll be consequences to pay.”

  My pussy clenched in anticipation. He wanted to play the control game-one of the seasonings I enjoyed most in adding some spice to our sex life. I never thought we needed spicing up, but it wasn’t a bad idea. His authoritative and commanding demeanor was hot. Feeling the wetness spread between my thighs, I lowered my gaze.

  “What would you like me to do?” I asked.

  “To do, what?” Christian shook his head in disapproval, moving the bustier and arranging my breasts so that they sat on the shelf of the tight garment. Lowering his head, his breath fanned over my nipples. “I’m waiting.”

  “What would you like me to do?”

  He captured my chin and tilted my head up, immobilizing me with a very intimidating gaze. “Finish the question with the proper address, or I’m watching the rest of the game and you can do with the D batteries I picked up this afternoon.”

  “You’re cruel.”

  “Excuse me?” he said, straightening and pulling away.

  No. He couldn’t mean it. He wouldn’t leave me like this. He couldn’t. Not only was I ready and extremely needy, I was fertile. A vibrator was totally inadequate.

  “If you regret your carelessness, I am known to be kind and forgiving to newbie subjects. I’ll give you one more chance to make things right.” He was taking this role-playing real serious. I inhaled deep then gave him what he wanted.

  “What would you like me to do, master?”

  He nodded and sat back. “Place your feet on my shoulders.”

  I did, showcasing my pussy for his inspection, but letting my knees drop towards the center and feigning modesty. Coolness swept across the heat as he blew his breath on me. His hands cupped my heavy breasts and his thumbs feathered my nipples as he dipped his head and his tongue slipped between my folds.

  “You’d best not be teasing me and hiding your pleasure button from me. I don’t like that,” he said, waiting for me to open wider.

  Inching my butt back, I moved my legs and exposed my swollen clit. But that wasn’t enough for him. Pushing between my thighs, he swung my legs over his shoulders, hitching my knees so that my heels were against his back, and spread my thighs farther.

  “Better,” he acknowledged, suckling my nub and scraping his teeth over the sensitive edges.

  Heaven.

  His mouth, pure perfection.

  It wasn’t long before, I wanted to come. I needed to come. Every inch of me burned with desire and ached for release. The man drove me mad. But he stopped as my body tensed and my breath grew erratic.

  “You are allowed one wish. What would you like?” Christian demanded, playing his master part to a tee. “Be specific, for I will not waste time to decipher code.”

  “I want to come.”

  He raised a brow. Not specific enough, I guess.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  He waited.

  “I want your cock to fill me. I want to shout your name, master, as you make my world spin and my body fly.”

  “Done,” he replied, lowering my legs from his shoulders and rising on his knees.

  With no effort, he lifted me off the table and placed me on all fours beside him. Then he turned and plunged deep inside me, holding my hips and pumping his cock into me as hard as humanly possible while his balls slammed against my clit.

  He hadn’t bothered to remove my lingerie, he hadn’t bothered with sweet talk or whispering in my ear, he took what he wanted and what I’d offered. Wild and furious, he kept me from sliding away from his impact by pulling my hips back after each thrust. It was primal, raw, and so damn arousing that I did want to shout.

  Christian was usually gentle and slow, waiting for my buildup and release before he took his pleasure. I typically climaxed two or three times before he groaned out his finale, but this time was different. He set the pace, demanded I keep up, and drove me fucking insane.

  “I’m going to come,” I cried.

  “Not till I give you permission,” he warned, dropping over my body and wrapping one arm around me to play with my nipples.

  He had a good eight inches on my frame, so it wasn’t difficult for him to entrap me beneath him. His cock did the same to my insides, and as he altered the angle and hit the sweet spot inside my channel, my body rattled with uncontrollable delight.

  “Please? Now?” I begged.

  “No. Hold your pleasure.” He thrust so fucking deep and stroked every sensitive area inside me. “You’ve been bad denying your master.”

  His hand left my nipples and curled under me, settling against my clit and intensifying my torture. He rolled my sensitive skin between his thumb and forefinger while he continued pumping into me. I was so wet, so hot, that I thought my pussy was on fire. I tried to drop lower in the front, to raise my ass higher and allow some air to cool me off, but rather than relief, I received a sharp sting.

  “Did I tell you to drop?” he demanded, smacking my ass again.

  “No,” I breathed, the sting spreading over my rear. “My pussy has a mind of its own when it comes to your dick. I’m burning up.”

  Dirty talk wasn’t so dirty, after all. I may have been a newbie, but it was a definite turn-on to vocalize the sensations racing through my body.

  He released a bit of his seed in me, but stopped with a guttural sound. I knew what he felt like when he came and that wasn’t all of it.

  “A little relief,” he said, sliding his cock out of my trembling folds.

  How’d he stop? Where did he learn that? A chill ran up my spine, but disappeared as he reentered my channel and stroked me in long, slow, repeated thrusts. His thumb rubbed my clit, his breath caressed my ear, and I felt his body tense against mine.

  “Come,” he said, adding more pressure to my clit. “Now.”

  And I did. It was the hottest, strongest climax in years. My body shook and the light grew dim. Like a pinball machine breaking the top score, sparks ricocheted inside me as my climax intensified. Christian came like a fucking rocket, his juices mixing with mine for an explosive cocktail.

  He pulled me up against his chest and held me till my body relaxed. Still buried within me, he lifted me off the floor and sat on the couch with me on top of him facing the gigantic television set.

  “Quiet till the game is over,” he warned. “As soon as we make this field goal, I’m going to punish you for distracting me and making me miss the touchdown.”

  All I wanted to do was cuddle against him, but I had to admit, the discomfort from sitting up had its allure. My pulsing clit liked being against his balls, so I reached down to rub them against me. Everything was so sensitive, it almost hurt. His fingers tightened on my waist and he guided me up so that his cock touched my g-spot. Rotating my hips, I met his groin with my wetness and let my second orgasm take me.

  “Oh, this is so fucking good,” I moaned.

  “Mm, they missed,” was all he said, and I knew he was trying to act aloof, but he was hard again.

  I didn’t care that he was watching the game. I wouldn’t have cared if one of his other fantasies was happening, either. It was the best sex we’d had in months.

  “At least they held on for the last ten seconds,” he muttered, turning off the television and tossing the remote onto
the side chair. Sitting up, he moved from within me and let me sit on his cock lengthwise. “Now, I need to punish you extra. You came without asking.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and smiled. “I like it when you’re like this.”

  “That’s irrelevant,” he replied, maneuvering my shoulders so that I had to look forward again. “You’re still going to get punished, and you’re going to say thank you when I’m done.”

  “Thank you, master,” I whispered, anticipating the punishment he had in store for me.

  “Do the work and ride to your next orgasm.” Totally hard again, he slipped deep into my core and spread his hands over my ass. “I’m not handing it to you this time.”

  I loved this position. I rose and fell, taking him where and how I wanted him; the sensations floating me higher with each movement. I was so susceptible, so ready to explode again that when he stilled my hips and placed his hands over my thighs to prevent me from rising again, I almost objected, but the anticipation of his next demand had me holding my breath.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  My heart thundered in my chest, and my clit ached as I swung my legs together so I could turn and face him. Even though I tried to keep him inside as I pirouetted, he pulled out and pressed his length between my butt cheeks.

  “I’ll take your suggestion into consideration,” he said, reaching up and caressing my breasts.

  What consideration? I had no clue, but as the color of his irises darkened, a thrill rocked me again.

  “Now bend over me so I can taste those rosy tips,” he instructed.

  Suckling my nipples, he spread my own moistness on my ass. The sensual massage was making me nuts. I wanted him again. I wanted him back inside.

  As if reading my mind, he released my nipple and looked me in the eyes. “You take what I give you.”

  Thankfully, he gave me two fingers and rubbed my clit. I was so close to going over the edge again, but he hadn’t said I could. In a vain attempt to hold back my orgasm, I squeezed my legs together. The tension and friction was overwhelming. I had to let go-had to.