Kink It Up

  Kink It Up

  M.A. Ellis

  Kelsey and Smith have allowed life to get in the way of romance. Career changes for her, more work responsibilities for him and staggered work hours for both are taking their toll. When the disconnect becomes too much, headstrong Kelsey confronts her husband with the perfect solution—kink it up.

  Smith quickly learns his wife isn’t talking silk scarves and spankings. She’s thinking more like wrist cuffs and nipple clamps. No matter her fantasy, he wants it to be perfect. And if that means an in-home tutorial with an old friend—and local Dom—he’s up for the challenge.

  Never one to drag her feet, Kelsey makes her own plans to spice things up, only to find them derailed in the hottest way, yawning awake one minute and bound to her vintage ottoman the next. But when the smoldering heat clears from their light foray into bondage, will Smith and Kelsey regain their intimacy or will the kink factor form a rift they aren’t likely to overcome?

  Inside Scoop: Thank God for old friends…especially ones well versed in BDSM!

  A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Kink It Up

  M.A. Ellis

  Chapter One

  Kelsey Branch gripped the thick restraints wrapped around her wrists and gave them another tug. A noise similar to popping a section of bubble wrap echoed through the room as a single loop of Velcro pulled free of its fuzzy counterpart.

  When this was all over, Kelsey was going to track down the Cosmo article that got her into this present state of discomfort and journalistically disembowel the author. Kick-ass blogger that Kelsey had become, she knew she could pull it off in the classiest manner.

  She tugged again. It was obvious her husband had done his research. Kelsey wasn’t going to be able to free herself. The thought sent a whorl of desire, annoyance and fear through her. But her silent Damn you, Smith didn’t pack a whole lot of force behind it.

  Theirs hadn’t been the type of romance most women fantasize about. No post-pubescent crushes from the past finally realized at a class reunion. No one-night stand that was so fucking amazing they were driven to pursue their baser instincts, only to have it miraculously turn into true love. No coming out of the market, rushing to beat the impending rain, arms filled with groceries and him running straight into her.

  In her mind, Kelsey watched a roll of sausage, three limes and a can of chicken broth bounce across an uneven brick-lined sidewalk. She’d have gone for the broth. Smith, good southern boy that he was, would have saved the sausage. The romantic vignette that she’d just imagined was a far cry from the boring ribbon cutting they’d been coerced into attending.

  “How you doin’, darlin’?” Twelve years with no direct contact with the great state of Louisiana but the man still had an accent that made women’s heads turn. And Kelsey’s heart race. Or maybe this time it was the fact that she was strapped to their whorehouse-vintage burgundy ottoman and he was standing less than a yard in front of her. Shirtless. His sun-kissed chest less than a yard in front of her. The thin trail of dark hair that led from his navel downward was quickly becoming the most fascinating thing Kelsey had ever seen.

  She swallowed hard but continued to stare. Some days it bothered her that he’d stayed as fit as the day they’d met. His thumbs slid through the belt loops of his jeans, his fingers forming parentheses around his groin. It had been awhile since she had checked out how his package was presented to the rest of the world. Her husband had a glorious cock. She just hadn’t been up close and personal with it lately. His arms relaxed, the weight forcing the worn denim down farther, exposing more of his tight abs. Kelsey wet her lips, silently admitting today wasn’t going to be another one of those days.

  “How’re your knees holding up?”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask that,” she replied.

  “That can’t be the softest thing to kneel on.”

  “Then why did you pick it?” She looked upward, expecting him—analytical genius that he was—to be studying the dynamics of the angle of her knee in proportion to the tufted thickness per square inch. Or something equally boring.

  He leaned in close, his deep-green eyes locked on her face. “Because I didn’t think I could punish you properly if you were tied to the couch or one of the recliners. The couch would have been too hard to run the rope under and the recliners rock. That’s a disaster just waitin’ to happen. An ER visit and our bosses finding out we played hooky for the sole purpose of exploring your freaky side?”

  Kelsey knew he was joking, but she couldn’t let that slide.

  “It’s not just my freaky side. You’re the one who said neckties were too commonplace and handkerchiefs—”

  “Remind me of sweet old Miss Marilyn who ran the diner on State Road 15.” He turned his head and stared through the open doorway at the water. Kelsey knew that look. Any second now he’d be waxing poetic about cotton fields and bluetick coonhounds. And while she loved listening to his deep, soothing voice recount childhood memories, doing so while tied to a piece of furniture wearing nothing but a tank top and white cotton thong wasn’t part of her fantasy.

  “God forbid you incorporate bondage and biscuits,” she muttered with an exaggerated sigh that brought his attention back to her. “We should have had breakfast before you stormed in and fireman-carried me out of our bed.” Her stomach rumbled, accentuating her point.

  “Bondage and biscuits. I like that, darlin’. Wouldn’t that mean there’d be honey involved?” He smacked his lips, the loud sound spurring memories of what he was capable of when he crawled between her thighs. How he used the little bump on the inside of his full lower lip to its full advantage.

  If she ever visited Pointe Coupee Parrish the first person she’d find was Chet LeRoux and thank him profusely for busting open Smith’s lip when they were thirteen. She couldn’t begin to count the number of times a simple circular caress from that little bit of marred flesh had made her clit swell to the point she’d pleaded for release.

  Kelsey shifted her legs and swallowed a groan as a roll of desire settled over her sex. The way Smith had her tied wouldn’t allow her to move her thighs together. Her labia grew heavy a second before the throbbing began. She lowered her hips until her butt was partially resting on her calves. In Kelsey’s mind her husband didn’t need a merit badge to prove his knot skills. Forget the fact that he’d been such a handful as a child the Boy Scouts wouldn’t take him.

  When she had mentioned trying a little something different in the sex department, she’d been surprised when Smith had taken the idea and run with it. It was painful that his sprint took him to some online site with frou-frou variations of bondage gear. In her fantasies she was bound by thick, black leather cuffs, not simple Velcro restraints with Barbie-pink piping. In her fantasies, he was wielding a leather flogger, not a flat little vinyl paddle in a similar bubble-gum hue.

  She hated the femininity of his choice but had to give him credit for making sure the pinks matched. Colors that seemed to be just a shade or two off were one of her pet peeves. It drove her crazy where her bras and panties were concerned and Kelsey was pretty certain it would have thrown her focus off the scenario he had in store. And her husband instinctively knew that.

  Kelsey glanced across the room to where the paddle lay, knowing he was purposely delaying their foray into obedience. All the articles she’d read had stressed the importance of the tease. Of the mental byplay that was as important as the discipline itself. But she wanted to get to the meat of the matter. For him to tell her how she had misbehaved. To see how it would feel to have a real smack land on her naked ass.

  He turned his head and met her gaze. She purposely raised her chin, silently challenging him to make a move. The ever-present twinkle in his
eyes was beginning to dim and Kelsey’s heartbeat sped.

  “It’s not going to be that easy, Kelsey.” His gaze narrowed and she knew he’d read her mind. “This isn’t going to be the simple bind me, spank me, then fuck me fantasy you’re thinking about.”

  Her heart stumbled. She wasn’t sure if it was from his frankness or the thought that he had something more complex in mind than what she assumed.

  “But we agreed—”

  “We agreed on the ground rules,” he interrupted. “Get back up on your hands and knees. As you so disobediently pointed out, you’re not the only one with a fantasy here.”

  Kelsey resumed her previous position, his firm tone setting her nerves on high alert. She knew all about his fantasies and she was going to see to that herself. Very soon, in fact. But something hot was apparently on her personal erotic horizon. She stole a glance at the leather paddle and heard him chuckle.

  “Not so fast, sugar.” He brushed a wisp of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. His fingertips danced along the sensitive skin of her lower lobe and she couldn’t hide the shiver that swept through her body.

  “This would be a whole lot hotter if you canned the southern endearments, you know,” she goaded him, wondering why she felt as if she had to divert his attention from the fact his simple caress had affected her. Was it self-preservation? A simple reaction from what she perceived as his lack of interest in her of late? Kelsey expected him to offer up another laugh, a little more banter, and her mind raced, trying to think of what to say that would incite him more. Get him to move it along.

  Suddenly, his strong fist closed around the length of her long red hair, forcing her head back so quickly she lost her breath. Gone was the teasing glint in his eyes or the crooked upturn of his lips. Kelsey met his stern gaze, furrowed brows making it clear the time for lighthearted chitchat was over. It was a look of power, a look of control. So fucking hot and unexpected, dampness trickled downward, teasing her folds until she was forced to shift her hips.

  “Stay still,” he commanded, twisting his wrist so the shorter hair at the base of her neck stretched just to the point of pain. His little finger stroked the patch of skin between her shoulder blades and she focused on not tensing her back muscles.

  “If I want a response from you, I’ll ask for it. Until then, be quiet.”

  The drumming in her chest increased until it echoed in her ears. She didn’t know if she should nod her head in the affirmative or answer him out loud. If she spoke, what would he do? A part of her truly wanted to find out, but another part, the one that was connected to the throbbing in her pussy, wasn’t so sure.

  This is what you wanted. What you’ve dreamed about for so long. What you finally had the balls to throw out there. He’s stepped up and what are you ready to do? Raise the safety flag and bail?

  Smith released her hair as quickly as he’d grabbed it and the discomfort turned into a pleasurable tingle. She breathed deep, only to have it cut short when he moved to her side to slowly trail a solitary finger down her spine. Heat followed in the wake of his caress, snaking outward along her nerve endings as he worked his way toward the divot at the small of her back. Memories of how he used to stroke that exact spot after they’d made love, no matter the position, assailed her. Was he remembering as well how that simple gesture had conveyed an array of feelings? Comfort. Satisfaction. Possession.

  The sweetness of the past dueled with the titillation of the moment. She wanted to embrace both emotions, somehow meld them into one entity that she thought would rekindle their intimacy but take it a step farther. Happily ever after with the occasional ball gag and riding crop.

  Instead of pausing at the small of her back as she hoped he might, Smith continued lower, not stopping until he touched the cleft of her ass. He caressed the fleshy valley, each downward stroke seeming to delve deeper between her cheeks. Sweat broke out along her brow as a flush of heat shot through her body. He moved a little farther and the muscles in her glutes involuntarily tightened.

  “You afraid, Kelsey?”

  His finger dipped lower, pressed a little harder. “No,” she quickly responded.

  “Liar.”

  The resounding crack of flesh-against-flesh reached her ears a second before a sharp band of pain radiated along the underside of one ass cheek. She tried to contain the yelp that escaped her mouth but failed miserably. Her skin burned and she instinctively struggled against her bindings, waiting for him to run his palm soothingly over her stinging flesh. He didn’t. All she received was another flat-handed slap that made her flex her feet and wiggle her ass in an attempt to move away.

  “You’re supposed to spank me then rub my ass so it doesn’t hurt as bad,” she admonished. Hadn’t he gleaned anything from those articles she left lying around his office? He gripped her hip with his other hand, his fingers firm against her flesh as he held her still and landed another smack, this one hard enough that she closed her eyes against the sting.

  Holy fuck, that hurt.

  Kelsey kept her opinion to herself. If she told him that, he’d stop. Game over. End of play. She concentrated on regulating her breathing. Nice and steady. She’d seen the women in the videos, had read about the importance of slowing down her racing heart. It was simply mind over matter. Of course, all those videos tended to be more hard core than what she was actually thinking.

  “What’s the matter, sugar? This Master and slave stuff a little more intense than you expected?” he asked. Warmth emanated off his hand as he held it a few inches from her skin, the energy bouncing back and forth between his palm and the throbbing skin of her ass. She waited anxiously for him to swat her again.

  “The first thing we’re going to work on, before we get to the part where I give you permission to beg, is you keeping quiet. That’s rule number one. Understand?”

  His hands gripped her waist and pulled her hips backward. He stroked across the fullness of her glutes before he dipped downward, the calloused pads of his thumbs making gooseflesh rise on her legs. With featherlight strokes, he teased the sensitive line of flesh where her upper thighs met her ass until she thought she’d have to break his number one rule.

  “Answer me,” he commanded, stopping when his thumbs were nearly touching her newly waxed labia and Kelsey answered quickly.

  “Yes,” she said. “I understand.” She wanted him to keep going. To reach out and slick his fingers with her wetness. She hadn’t been perched in this position in months. Hadn’t felt anywhere near as turned-on as she was now.

  “Later,” he said, his accent deepening. “We’ll get you back in this same position and demand a lot more from you. But for now, let’s focus on making you want to scream and knowing that if you do, if you give in and open your pretty little mouth, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

  The thought made Kelsey’s legs twitch but she didn’t move.

  “Good girl,” Smith replied firmly. “Now open your legs.” He must have been practicing this for days because Kelsey couldn’t remember the last time he’d sounded anything but laid-back and complacent. She liked the unyielding tone and so did her pussy. A wave of delight rolled through her lower body, stopping just below her clit, taunting the tight little bud. A simple stroke or two and relief would be forthcoming.

  Her knees stuck to the leather as she picked up one and then the other and widened her stance. She let her eyes drift shut and a clear image of what her husband was seeing assailed her. Pale thighs that that hadn’t been kissed by UV rays for at least four months. So white they were probably glowing. A tan would have definitely hid some of the imperfections on her legs. He continued to tell her he didn’t care about her appearance, but if that was true, why hadn’t they had sex in four months?

  At least her pussy hadn’t turned into something that resembled a carnival sideshow freak. Not having kids, she’d been spared any Stretch Armstrong-esque distortion, no freak bike-riding incidents that might have resulted in uneven labial appearance
. It was something having a girlfriend who was a surgical nurse. There were stories galore and Kelsey was happy she hadn’t been one of them.

  She’d checked herself out in a hand mirror after the modified Brazilian waxing three days ago. Pretty impressive, she thought. Still pink, lips even. Her pussy had to look pretty damn good to Smith right now, fully exposed and glistening from just the tiniest bit of role play.

  Does he even remember what I like?

  The thought flitted through her mind, his actions answering with a resounding yes as he brushed this thumbs up and down her exposed outer labia.

  “I want you to keep it like this for me all the time.”

  Kelsey’s fingers curled into her palms as he toyed with the plump flesh, the sensation of his fingers so very different now that her pussy was nearly bald. He pressed and rubbed and stroked, never in the same place twice, and Kelsey shifted her hips, trying to force his fingers against her clit, but he always moved away at the last second.

  Frustration filled her and she dropped her head until her forehead was touching the cool leather. She would tolerate the stroking and whatever else he wanted to taunt her with. She had every intention of submitting, but not right away. In her fantasies, she was always denied. No matter how much she pleaded or swore. No matter how many hands roamed her body or tried to hold her down, she was never once brought to completion before her lover had reached the point he was ready to fulfill his own lust.

  Kelsey peeked through the opening of her legs, trying to see if Smith was hard. If what she’d proposed in the way of fantasy had his package pressing against the zipper of his jeans. But he continued to stand at her side and she couldn’t see a damn thing where his erection was concerned. She shifted her hips, pretending to readjust her knees. She knew how much he loved her ass and she was willing to give him a show. It didn’t play into her fantasy until much later, but a part of her wondered why he hadn’t already thrust his cock into her.