Cuff Master Page 9

  Rustling through the bag, she knew she couldn’t shower until she brushed her teeth. Nothing had ever felt nicer than brushing her teeth, flossing and rinsing with mouthwash.

  After she spit out the rinse, she looked at the mirror. A small bandage covered the sutured wound on her forehead. Thankfully, it was no longer swollen, rather a weird mix of purple, black and yellow bruising.

  Unsure how much time she’d taken, she stripped off the sweats, walked to the shower, opened the door and turned on the brass faucets. Warm water rained down, enticing her to step inside and soak it in.

  Careful to close the see-through door before water spilled out, she appreciated the simplicity of getting clean. Shampoo and conditioner were on a hanging rack. She grabbed up the sweet-smelling shampoo, scrubbed gently to avoid her forehead and rinsed.

  Like brushing her teeth, it was a simple function of life. But it was refreshing and wonderful. Clean water and soap gave her strength, made her smell nice again.

  After her body was clean and her hair washed and conditioned, she finished up by lathering her palms with the big white bar of soap Ethan must have used the last two days.

  Widening her thighs and squatting a little, she used the lather to scrub her mons and pussy. She’d learned to trim her bush on her own, but soft auburn pubic hair covered her mound. She wondered what Ethan would think or if he’d ask her to go bare.

  With that in mind, she cupped her hands with warm water and rinsed the soap away. She’d been watching the suds swirl down the drain when she realized she wasn’t alone.

  Turning slowly, she saw Ethan standing in the doorway to the bathroom. As promised, he’d returned.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised by that or the way his cock filled out his jeans. The zipper was strained and she was sure the top button was going to pop open all on its own.

  Holy cow! Water continued to spill gently over her head. She’d purposefully kept it from full blast to avoid damaging her sutures. However the heat in the shower rose significantly.

  “Morgan?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you linger in there one more second, I’m going to let the soup burn.”

  “Stay where you are,” she insisted, putting out one hand to rest it on the shower wall. “I’m almost done.”

  “I want you so badly right now, all I can think about is joining you in there and fucking you until we’re both too raw and sore to move.”

  Blinking away the water running in her eyes, she trembled with need. Desire took root deep, deep in her pussy.

  It was so strong she almost tossed back her head and said, “Join me, big boy”. Instead, she reached up to turn off the shower.

  “You wouldn’t really have done that,” she commented even as Ethan strode across the bathroom, grabbing a towel off a rack on his way to the shower.

  “It’s for your sake that I’m giving you this towel. Otherwise, you might not eat for a while and I’ll have to kick my own ass for not giving you sustenance before I fuck you.”

  He opened the shower door and wrapped the towel around her. As warm and big as the towel was, Ethan’s hands where he gripped her shoulders were smoldering hot.

  Did he know that his very act of admitting and denying what he wanted was pretty darned honorable?

  Morgan didn’t blatantly tempt him further. But the sexual tension within her had tightened to the point of near madness.

  She didn’t want soup right then. She wanted to be fucked many, many times. This was how it felt to be wanted for who she was. Ethan’s desire was honest, raw and undisputedly sexy as hell.

  “Ethan,” she whispered as he tightened the towel around her and knotted it in place. “The soup shouldn’t burn.”

  “No, but we might burn up if I let another night go by without fucking you,” he told her point blank. Letting go of her shoulders to gather her face in his big hands, he leaned in very close. “Word of warning, after you eat and I’m sure you’re not going to pass the hell out on me, I’m going to have you for dessert.”

  “Have I objected?”

  Her response had him smiling. “Then get your gorgeous ass in gear and get some clothes on. I’m a horny sonofabitch and my woman needs some hardcore sex.”

  “Yes, yes I do.” He kissed her then, softly and just enough to tease her into falling forward and into his arms. It was lovely to be engulfed by his strength. To know without a shadow of a doubt Ethan Maddox would never let her fall.

  Drawing back seconds later, Ethan gave her room to maneuver out of the shower stall.

  “I’m going to the kitchen or I’m toast.” He glanced back twice to be sure she was okay, then continued out the door.

  Morgan finished drying off, wrapped her hair in a towel and set to work preparing herself for dinner with Ethan.

  Chapter Four

  Morgan changed her bandage, discovering the cut on her forehead didn’t look as horrible as she’d feared. The stitches were very small and the clean inch-wide bandage covered it completely.

  She’d likely have a very small scar. The bruising was ugly, but it would fade. For the most part, her face looked fine and a natural after-shower flush made the warm tones of her skin glow.

  She did apply a light amount of makeup, because let’s face it…she was having sex with Ethan tonight and wanted to look nice for him.

  He was a man who followed through with what he wanted. What he wanted was her. Wow, it was incredible to even believe it, much less anticipate an evening in bed with the man of her dreams.

  Feeling remarkably good considering what she’d been through, she was grateful she’d had a couple of days to recover. Food would definitely help the lingering weakness and later they’d be in bed. If she wavered or became shaky, Ethan would take care of her.

  Getting dressed quickly, she finished up in the bathroom by brushing and blow drying her hair. There was a hair band in her makeup bag and she made a quick efficient ponytail to keep it out of her face.

  She didn’t bother with shoes. The house was comfortably warm and she liked going barefoot when she could.

  Back in the bedroom, she tossed the sweats in a laundry bin. Samson and Delilah had vacated the room altogether. They must have smelled food.

  A little worried she might have to rescue Ethan from Delilah’s habit of trying to steal people food whenever she got the chance, Morgan headed out of the bedroom. The smell of soup reached the stairway leading down to the kitchen, making her stomach rumble in earnest.

  The Federal-style house was made with some of the back bedrooms having direct access to the kitchen. The front and master bedrooms opened to a long hallway and staircase that led to the foyer and parlor.

  Given that the two bedrooms were joined by a bathroom and a door, Morgan figured the front room would eventually become a nursery when Cassie and Phalen were ready. Right now it was a home office with a day bed. It was a big house with more than enough room for a big family and a humongous club basement.

  Morgan hurried down the steps, drawing up short when she discovered Ethan crouched low to play with the kitties on an even level. In one corner of the kitchen was a mat with an automatic water dispenser and kibble feeder. The feeder was full and a small plate of wet kitten food was nearby.

  Even though they were big, Samson and Delilah were mouthy at times, their claws were sharp and they tended to be over-exuberant as if they were toddlers. Ethan’s patience and gentleness with the kittens was a sight to see.

  Right then her heart melted. Ethan would be a wonderful family man.

  He already was. As much ribbing as Phalen, Ethan and Taran gave to each other, they prized family as the most important part of their lives. If one of them fell or was threatened, the other two would move heaven and earth to help them.

  She’d grown to view Taran and Phalen as her brothers, Cassie and Sam as her sisters. But she loved Ethan Maddox. She had since they met.

  A little nervous, she stepped farther into the room. Ethan looked up from wher
e he was crouched, grinning at her. “Hey, look at you. You clean up quite nice, Ms. Everhart.”

  “You look good enough to eat, Detective Maddox.”

  “Careful, the soup’s just about ready.”

  He nudged Delilah’s chin lightly, then stood. “Did you take your medicine? I left the antibiotics and Excedrin for migraines on the vanity. Doc said you can’t take any ibuprofen.”

  “I took the antibiotic. I’ll wait on the Excedrin. If my headache returns, I’ll take it. But I think it’s gone.”

  “If at any point this evening you’re uncomfortable or feeling ill, promise to let me know.”

  “I will, promise,” she agreed, suddenly feeling as though she were waiting on something big to happen.

  She wanted to walk farther into the room and go up to him. Something within her told her to wait for permission. As she waited, the look in Ethan’s gunmetal gaze pierced right to her soul, his grin of approval sexy and wanting.

  Ethan finally reached out his hand. Without saying anything, he gestured to invite her to walk to him.

  The kitchen was an eclectic mix of farmhouse cabinetry, linoleum black and white squared floor and stainless steel appliances. It was big and airy, with a big diner-style booth for casual meals.

  Morgan loved it. But before she knew it, she was padding across the floor. Her hand was in his. His right arm wrapped around her waist to draw her in so close. His body heat alone set her on fire.

  “Missed you,” he whispered, leaning in to pepper kisses all over her upturned face.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to look pretty for you.”

  He shifted back. “Honey, you always look beautiful to me.”

  “You’re saying that because you want to get laid later.”

  “True, doesn’t mean I don’t mean it. As it is, it’ll be a miracle if I make it through dinner without nibbling on you.”

  “It’ll be a miracle if I don’t fall over before you have the chance to nibble,” Morgan admitted.

  “Then we’ll eat and talk until you’re feeling up to going back to bed, agreed?”

  “I thought we’d already done that.”

  “Just making sure you understand what going to bed means.”

  “I know.” With her response, Ethan kissed her firmly on the lips, then shifted backward to guide her to the booth.

  The table was set with two giant bowls, utensils, ice water with lime slices and two empty square plates. Morgan looked over at the six-burner stove with two oven doors and saw a big pot on a front burner. Steam rose, the aromas of vegetables, broth, herbs and pasta filling the whole kitchen.

  Beside the pot of soup was a flat cast iron skillet. There was a plate of cheese sandwiches made out of crusted French bread.

  “Grilled cheese sandwiches and soup for dinner,” she said. “Smells wonderful.”

  “Cassie had several family-sized cans of vegetarian alphabet soup in the pantry,” Ethan said. “I figured you’d need a bit more than veggies and kid-sized pasta and made the sandwiches.”

  “I’m not complaining. I love grilled cheese sandwiches. They’re one of my primary comfort foods.”

  Ethan went to the stove to stir the soup. “I have a confession.”

  “What’s that, Detective?”

  He looked back at her. “I’ve seen you order grilled cheese many times at the diner. Cassie regularly sends them to you for lunch.”

  “You paid attention to that?”

  “When it comes to learning what you like and dislike, I needed to pay attention. What I don’t know is whether you like ice cream or what kind of movies you prefer to see. You know…the little things that make you who you are.”

  Morgan smiled as he heated up the skillet and watched him slather butter onto the bread. “I like chocolate ice cream and prefer action flicks featuring ripped martial artists or badass cops. Surprised?”

  For a second, Ethan faltered in the buttering, causing a big glop of butter to fall on the counter. He quickly recovered and kept up the task. “Not surprised, but you did describe your man to a tee.”

  “My man, you say? And who might that be?”

  “That’s easy. Me.” He tossed one sandwich onto the skillet. Butter sizzled.

  “Confident much, Ethan Maddox?”

  “I say it the way I see it. What, are you trying to say that it wasn’t you who’d stopped at the bottom of the stairs to appreciate the view, that being me.”

  Again, she grinned. She was so happy it was almost hard to believe two nights ago she’d never felt so dejected and lost.

  “There is a lot to appreciate about a man such as you. You’re ripped in a nice sculpted kind of way. Not too bulky, not too inked, I’d say you’re perfect.”

  “I’ve got a few scars, honey. As long as you like what you see, I’m happy with myself.”

  “Oh I like what I see. But I admit it was the way you played with Samson and Delilah that stopped me in my tracks. You were so gentle and aware that they’re really just big babies. I saw your potential as a dad.”

  Another sandwich joined the first. More butter sizzled from the stove. The soup continued to simmer. It smelled so darned good, Morgan thought she might drool.

  If Ethan kept his attention on cooking, allowing her to appreciate the splendid view of his excellent ass filling out jeans better than a mere mortal man should ever be able to do, she’d leave a puddle on the bench.

  And not from drool either.

  Her pussy was wet. Her panties significantly damp. Desire had taken hold of her so strongly it was difficult to remain still, much less stay seated while watching Ethan flip the sandwiches.

  “If you saw my potential, does that mean you’re willing to be the mother of my children, Morgan?” Ethan asked, shifting around to lean back against the counter, his hands down at his sides. He was calm and confident and every bit in command.

  “We discussed this upstairs,” she said.

  “But you love me. I love you. Why pussyfoot around and not admit that you and I are a forever deal?”

  The L-word took Morgan off guard. Stupefied, her mouth fell open. Her heart went pitter-pat.

  “You…love me?” she murmured when she could speak.

  Ethan turned the burner off, moved the skillet to the back of the stovetop, then pushed off his heels to stroll up to her as if he had no worries in the world. Going down on one knee before her, he reached up to touch his hand to her jaw, cupping ever so gently.

  “I love you, yes. Please tell me I’m not putting my heart on the line here, Morgan. Tell me I’m not wrong about your feelings for me.”

  In that moment, she saw the fear in his eyes that maybe he had pushed too fast or assumed too much too soon. She also saw that he wouldn’t retract his admission. He said it. He meant it. That’s the way he was.

  Just as he touched her, Morgan extended her hand to touch his face. “You’re not wrong, Ethan. I’ve loved you since you walked into my shop the first time. I’m still so sorry for being an idiot. Being scared isn’t an excuse for putting you off for so long.”

  “Trust me and know there’s nowhere safer for you than with me. I take care of what I love, you, my brothers, my friends and even my pet niece and nephew. If we have kids, you can bet I’m going to teach them the same sense of honor my dad and mom taught me.”

  “Your parents and Phalen taught you well, didn’t they?”

  “They did. But I’m my own man and am confident in being your man.”

  “Then I guess Grandma Everhart was right. She told me I’d find my soul mate when I learned to trust him on blind faith. Someday I want to have children with you, although I want to spend some time learning about you first.”

  “I’m not going to rush you. Just giving you a heads-up.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she replied.

  “You’re getting good with the sir tag. Soon I’m going to teach you how to use Master during a scene. It’ll be essential for you to remember I’m your Master in the bedroom.”


  His praise sent her heart scurrying as fast as when he said the L-word.

  “Are we talking sexual slavery, Ethan? I’m not sure I can kowtow or find pleasure in being at your every beck and call.”

  “Not a sex slave. When it comes to sex, I hope you’ll let me be in charge. Will there be bondage and discipline, dominance and submission? Hell yes. If you don’t like something or want to take control sometimes, speak up. If you’re scared or uncertain, you’ve the right to say your safe word or tell me to explain something to ease your mind.”

  “I have that much say in the bedroom?” she asked.

  “You’ve a lot to learn, honey. In the bedroom, the kitchen, a dungeon, wherever we fuck, yes, you always have the choice to submit or not. No matter what I suggest in a scene, you set the bar on how far we go. I give you what you desire and failing you is not an option.”

  He eased back a little and stroked her face with his fingers. Even his touch sent zings of pleasurable heat all over her skin. “When does my education begin?”

  “It already has. Tonight how about we concentrate on dinner, conversation and lovemaking? I haven’t forgotten that it’s been awhile for you and you still have stitches in your forehead. I want tonight to be special for you.”

  “Every time with you will be special, Ethan. I’ve never felt that way before. Not with any other man. Hell, I’ve never had an orgasm.”

  Ethan blinked several times. “Never? Not even by masturbating?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve tried with toys and such, but I get too tense. I can’t separate myself from those who’ve made them. It’s the downside of psychometry.”

  “Oh honey, I’ll teach you how to get yourself off when you need to. Orgasm is something you should experience often. It’s for damn sure I’m going to get you creaming so much tonight, I’ll make up for all your frustration in not being able to come,” he vowed and stood up.

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she stated, realizing submissives had way more power in a D/s relationship than she’d thought. Cassie had tried to explain it to her, but it was Ethan who made her understand it.