Page 37 of Integrated (Mistress & Master of Restraint #11)
Excited beyond belief that I’ve finally answered the lifelong question, I drag Cort’s body across the tabletop to suck his kiss. Cort doesn’t fight me. If anything, he drags me toward him. Struggling to get as close as humanly possible, our lips fuse, hands gripping and squeezing where they land– mine against Cort’s jawline, with his at the nape of my neck, fingers splayed in my hair, nails biting into my scalp.
“We–” A groan escapes from my mouth into Cort’s, as his tongue probes between my lips. “We need to get to Restraint. ASAP.”
“Go. Before you get yourselves arrested for public indecency.” Whitt’s none too pleased about the sexual spectacle were making of ourselves.
In Whitt’s defense, we are in his quiet establishment, a heartbeat away from screwing our brains out on the tabletop.
“I need you in me.” Cort gasps, not giving a shit that it drives me even higher. Cock pounding in my trousers, fingers pulling Cort closer, I wonder if he realizes the impact his words have on me.
“Mon dieu!” Even high on lust, it’s obvious who said those words.
“Do I need to get a squirt bottle after you idiots?” Whitt shoves at my back. “You’re worse than Wicked and Vixen.”
“Our pups are better behaved.”
Whitt and Dalton are just background noise, same as all the hoots and hollers coming from our more dignified friends and relatives, since the others are over at Restraint and would appreciate the spectacle we’re making of ourselves.
“You want me to top you?” is muttered in mystification, as I propel us toward the side door to the alleyway.
If we can get through the twelve-foot expanse of the alley between Alt and Restraint, we will be at the side door that takes us straight into the dungeon. It would be best to get there before we get arrested for public indecency.
It will take a miracle.
Cort pins me to the wall, missing the door by a good three feet. Jacking my head backward, I let out a peal of delighted laughter. I almost say the hell with it as Cort kisses my neck, grinding that exquisite bulge against my hip. Slowly moving us over a few feet, I chuckle when my hand finds the door.
“I want you inside me when the bell tolls the New Year,” is a husky growl from Cort’s throat directly into my ear, the sensation vibrating to my soul. “I want it to be a new beginning– our final beginning.”
“You want me to top you?” I repeat, because Cort isn’t offering his ass up for sex– it has a stronger meaning.
“I want you to own me,” Cort reverently breathes against my neck.
Sucking in a sharp, pained-filled gasp, Cort’s words sink into my mind deep enough for me to comprehend them. I start to shake, fear and lust and happiness swirling in my emotions.
“Oh, Fuck.” Whitt gulps out in a panic. “Hurry, hurry!” He pushes us out the open side door, directing our entangled bodies across the alleyway.
Lost in Cortez’s kiss and the sensation of his palms on my skin as he divests me of my shirt, I don’t register the late December air freezing my skin, nor do I hear the beeps of the security panel as Whitt unlocks and opens the side door to Restraint’s dungeon.
“Fuck away,” Whitt sings, sounding highly amused and horny. “Congratulations!” A happy pat on my back turns into a rough shove as we’re propelled inside Restraint’s dungeon. The door banging shut has a ring of finality– our final beginning…
Lost to anything that isn’t me, Cort seems to have an internal clock informing him it’s three and a half minutes until the New Year. I find myself smashed against the wall of the dungeon, with a perfect view of the festivities. Moving with hasty efficiency, Cort’s fingers roughly yank at my belt, then the fly of my trousers.
“If you don’t hurry the hell up, my cock is going to claw its own way out,” I tightly warn through gritted teeth. My body sways with the movements of my clothing being torn from my body.
In a fog, glazed-over eyes observe my domain. Cort may hate Restraint with a passion, but it’s my brainchild and I feel right at home.
What better place to make Cort mine than here at Restraint?
It’s New Year’s Eve, and what do you do on New Year’s? You find the one who you want right now more than anyone. Whether you have a future or not, it doesn’t really matter. You just want them enough to devote the following year to them.
I smile at a few of the unions, some of which are downright shocking.
Monica and Dexter are no surprise, as they play with the St. Andrew’s cross and Dexter’s whip– the whip isn’t inflicting pain as it usually does. Tied to the cross, with a whip handle fucking her pussy, Monica screams her release. Proud as a peacock, Dexter tears open the fly of his standard-issue, tight as fuck leather pants, then impales his wife in one smooth move, officially making her his for the next year.
Roman is using my personal station, the one with the therapist couch– being as he is a drug and alcohol counselor, it makes perfect sense that he’s slowly making love to Kristal in that station. The way Kristal’s eyes are filled with adoration, I believe she’s finally met her match. But it’s one of our newest members who is a surprise. Drake is patiently waiting his turn to suck Roman’s cock, since Roman’s the one who sponsored his membership.
Happy I was in the vicinity of Restraint, so he could have some fun tonight, Roarke has a submissive’s lips wrapped around his cock, all the while wearing a dreamy, content smile. I can’t help but find humor in the fact that the man isn’t paying for that blowjob over at French Kissed Kink. Well, perhaps he is paying for it– I’ll never know.
One of the biggest surprises, and I wonder how daddy will feel about it, is Bianca Green and Sebastian Vance sensually kissing over in a shadowy corner. Not salacious in any manner, they simply kiss to ring in the New Year.
If it weren’t for the fact that Cortez was taking his pants off, the sight of his painfully ridged cock distracting me, I would have flown from the wall and yanked the gorgeous raven ringlets from her head. My sister, hand-in-hand with Dexter’s preppy slave– Spyder and Tobias disappear into the main club. She may be legal, but she’s not old enough to drink or enter Restraint, as this is a 21+ establishment.
“Hey!” Cort calls up to me, lust still pooling in his eyes, but it’s slightly cooled so we can think straight. “I saw Spyder enter. She just came in here to get her date. Didn’t even take a look around– just homed right in on him. Toby is a great guy. She could do a helluva lot worse. He’s smart, going to college, and working for Dexter. He’s clean, structured, religious, and polite and caring. Be happy– it’s innocent and sweet.”
“Tobias is too old.” I growl, eyes still staring at the door they had disappeared behind, as if I can see them through the metal.
“Toby is twenty-two to Spyder’s almost nineteen– sounds like the same age to me.” Cort’s fighting back a laugh at my expense, all because of my territorialism. “Now where were we?”
“Ugh!” A grunt of surprise is torn from my throat as Cortez licks my erection from balls to tip. Shuddering, knees weak, I fall backward to lean against the wall for support.
“That’s all the time we have for foreplay,” Cortez purrs in warning, grabbing my good wrist. “C’mon down here and own me.” he flashes me guileless eyes without a shade of fear or trepidation.
In a daze, I slide to the cold floor, then pull Cortez over to the wall to get as much privacy as possible. The location is perfect, but something so intimate should be private.
“You realize what we’re doing, correct?” I whisper as I roll Cortez beneath me. Situating myself between Cort’s legs, I grab his ankles, pressing his thighs to his chest until he’s almost folded in half.
“Yes,” Cort breathes out, never taking his eyes from mine. The unconditional trust Cortez offers me makes my heart beat erratically, blood racing in my veins. I’m not afraid– I’m captivated.
Spitting on my hand, I rub it over my pulsing cock, hating how we’re out of time to prepare for my entry. We have lube stashed everywhere, with plenty of prep work used– I fear harming Cort, not everlasting damage, just chaffing. I join us in one long, sharp thrust just as the members of Restraint ready to begin the countdown chant.
“Do you trust me?” I demand.
“You know I do.” Cort whimpers, fine lines bracketing his eyes, as emotions and physical stimuli hit him from all directions.
“You trust me,” I say without a shadow of a doubt. “How is this for trust, commitment, fidelity, and loyalty? Marry me. I don’t mean a fake commitment ceremony. Marry me . Be my husband, legally and in name and spirit. Just as it should’ve always been if we hadn’t found out we were cousins. If I hadn’t fractured. If we hadn’t been involved with MdJ. If we’d never been abducted. We would have been married a long time ago, and you know it.”
Ten!
“I’m glad we went through it for four reasons: Zane, Ava, Azrael, and Marcus Zane. Our children made all the pain worth it. It was just a journey that taught an entitled boy how to become a man and appreciate all he’s been given.”
The nine, eight, seven , and six rung out loud and clear as Cortez spoke.
“You, calling me entitled?” My eyebrows raise as I incredulously ask the notoriously spoiled Cortez Hunter.
Five and Four .
“No. Myself,” Cort shyly replies, innocently blushing as if I’m not inside him in front of a watching crowd– and they have all stopped to watch, every single last one of them. I can feel their eyes surveying us.
Three .
“Say yes,” I breathlessly beg.
Two.
“Yes,” Cort says with conviction, agreeing to join me for the rest of eternity.
One.
I kiss Cortez to seal the vow, whispering against his parted lips. “Happy New Year, husband. I believe this is the best beginning to our happy ending we could’ve ever dreamed. I love you.”
I fall into Cortez, where I’ve always belonged, ignoring the exuberant shouts around us– shouts of Happy New Year and Congratulations.