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Title: Readers Wives
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Kathy Reich's books.
Rating: Very Adult.
Pairing: Tempe/Ryan
Spoilers: Cross Bones, Break No Bones. Set somewhere around those two books.
Warning: Sex. Graphic. Slight kink.
Notes: For million_moments . This is the first half of my side of the deal.



Pete had never displayed much of a kinky side. It was straight sex between us for almost twenty years, good sex, but still, not particularly adventurous. And while sex with Pete had always been good for me, he hadn't felt the same and instead of working on the problem with me, he slept with someone else.

It was almost a relief when Andrew Ryan, ocean eyes and sand blonde hair, handcuffed me to his bed, I knew if things got boring in he'd he'd do something about it. Make it interesting.
Not that sex with Ryan was ever boring.

I've been handcuffed before, but never with real police issue handcuffs. Ones that had a key, a key that was at the other end of his room on the dresser. Not that I could see anything. Not only was I stretched out on his bed, my arms above my head and attached to the rails of his headboard, I was wearing black material over my eyes, tied tight around my head. Even with my eyes open all I could see was black and I had to rely on my other senses.

That didn't help me a whole lot. In his bedroom I could just smell the smallest hint of his aftershave lingering on me and the fresh scent of his bed-clothes. I could feel the soft covers beneath me and the cold metal on my wrists.

I couldn't hear him anywhere in his apartment. Considering sometimes I couldn't shut him up I was surprised that he could be so quiet. So silent.

I was actually getting nervous the longer he left me waiting on his bed. I was wearing a little black negligee he'd bought for me, which had surprised me again. He had guessed my size perfectly and had bought something I actually liked, something understated and classy.

I heard a noise, a click, from the opposite end of the bed and stupidly lifted my head up to see, forgetting my sightless eyes. I heard a snicker too, a muffled laugh and imagined Ryan's hand over his mouth, not quite covering his entire mouth, I imagined his lips and felt a little better about my current predicament.

There was another click, then another and another, then the black went to grey as a light went on for a moment, a flash, and I realised what he was doing.

“Stop right now.”

“Stop what?” I could hear laughter in his voice, and there was another series of clicks and he took more photos of me.

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Do you really want to know?”

I thought about that for a moment, Andrew Ryan using pictures of me porn and masturbating. I wasn't sure if the idea angered me or aroused me.

I didn't get the chance to decide.

Cold hands touched my bare thighs sending a shiver through me as he parted my legs. I heard another click and shut them again, crossing them.

“Andrew!”

“Do you want me to tie your legs to the bed too?”

To my annoyance, and embarrassment, I moaned.

“I'll take that as a yes.” He said in a smug tone. He ran a hand up the outside of my leg, over my hip and across my stomach. I relaxed under his touch but tensed up again and his hand trailed back down between my thighs and tried to part my legs again, I really didn't want him to take pictures there but his fingers were light and persistent, playing and probing and I gave in.

I always gave in to him.

I relaxed my body and moaned, pouting my lips out when he moved his hand away.

“Nice angle.” He said before another series of clicks sounded. I'd heard those words before, in a church on my knees. I wondered if Ryan was a reluctant masturbater, if his catholic upbringing forced him to feel bad about what he was planning to do with those pictures.

“How would you feel if I had a video camera?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” I repeated the word firmly and I could imagine him laughing at me again. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd already had a camera set up. “How would you feel if I took photos of you?” I regretted the question instantly, I knew the answer but I was surprised when he moaned too.

“I'd love you to take pictures of me to masturbate too.”

“I wouldn't. Women aren't like that.” It was a terrible lie but I wasn't going to admit I'd be interested to see those pictures.

“Whatever you say cupcake. I've seen what you keep in your bedside drawer.” There was another series of clicks and I felt my cheeks flaming up at the knowledge he'd found the vibrator I had received as an present from an old friend and acquaintance.

More clicks, closer this time and I suspected he was taking pictures of my breasts. I'm not huge but the negligee was designed that no matter your size, your breasts would still threaten to escape from the cups. Mine certainly were spilling over the flimsy material but as I couldn't see myself I wasn't too concerned. If I couldn't see my own imperfections I didn't feel as self concious. Child-like reasoning but it worked for the moment.

“Smile Tempe.” He said in a sing-song voice. I didn't comply, but the click and flash hit my face anyway. “Think there would make Readers Wives?” I could hear beeps as he looked through the photos.

“You don't?”

“I would if you were in it.”

“You'd have to marry me first.”

“Might be worth it.”

“Make a girl feel special why don't you.”

“Aw honey, you know you're special.” He put on his best southern drawl and I felt two fingers lightly running over me before they were inside me. My back arched and I cried out in shock more than anything else.

He hadn't even kissed me.

I felt him leaning on me lightly and heard him put something on the cabinet by the bed, the camera I assumed, his fingers inside me the entire time, unmoving, just a presence. I sighed. I felt content like this but I knew Ryan wouldn't let me rest.

I felt the bed dip beside me and the length of his body against mine. I felt all taut skin and no material and guessed he was naked. I could feel his erection against my thigh and his fingers moved deeper inside me as he leant over to kiss me, resting some of his weight on my body. He crossed a leg over mind and pushed his body tighter into mine, closer to me. He started to move his fingers in and out of my body, pressing his erection harder into my thigh, rubbing it in time with the movement of his fingers.

I didn't want to ask for more, to beg, I hadn't succumbed to that yet but I could feel something build and I wanted more. I tried arching my hips up, pushing his fingers deeper inside me and urging him silently to continue.

“Want something Tempe?” I held back a growl. “You just have to ask.” I ignored him, moving my hips in time with his fingers. When I whimpered he stopped, pulling the fingers from me completely.

I groaned.

“I'm going to make you say it.”

“I'm going to make you pay.”

“That a promise?”

I sighed. I knew I would give in. I always did. His fingers brushed over my clit and I whimpered. Whimpering was new, embarrassing, and solely down to Ryan.

“Please Andrew.”

Damn.

I was taken by surprise again when I felt the weight shift on the bed and the disappointment at the loss of his body next tom mine went when I felt his fingers thrust hard back into my body and his lips on my clit.

I cried out his name when I came, but I couldn't tell you much about how I felt. I couldn't see anything, I could only feel and I could feel everything.

When I opened my eyes again I saw black and felt Ryan's head resting on my hip, his hand now stroking my thigh softly. I wanted to purr.

“Okay?”

“Yes.” I sounded breathless, I was breathless.

We lay like that for a little while and I began to feel content again, Ryan's head on my hip and his soft strokes on my thigh were soothing. My arms were hanging limp from the handcuffs, my wrists hurting a little, I could feel myself drifting off and I would've let sleep come if Ryan hadn't moved so suddenly, kissing me quickly and oh-so-briefly before lifting my legs up high.

I gasped when I felt him push inside me, hard and fast and unexpected and I cried out again, trying to free my hands from the cuffs to grab a part of him. Any part.

My legs were still up at an angle and resting somewhere, his hands just holding them but not holding them up. I assumed that he had lifted them up onto his shoulders, the angle intensified by the fact that I couldn't move my arms, or move myself into a more comfortable position.

I couldn't move at all.

I was at Andrew Ryan's mercy and it was a hell of a turn on. I loved to feel his hands on me, on any part of me but they were on the bed and he was moving hard and fast inside of my body. This encounter had gone from slow to sonic in seconds. I was going to die and he was going to kill me.

I wasn't too upset about that.

A million clichés exploded in my mind and throughout my body, pleasure, pain, the strain in my arms and thighs, the heaven.

Heaven?

I concentrated on every move he made. In, out. In, out. I choked his name out once, twice but he was silent throughout and I found it unnerving. I couldn't see him, I couldn't hear him and if it wasn't for the fact that I knew the feel of him so well it could've been anybody bending my body like this.

The thought was terrifying.

“Please. Say something.” I hated the sound of my own voice, the begging quality it had taken, the desperation.

“You want to talk now?” He asked in breathless disbelief.

“I just,” I was breathless too, my mind was running around, jumping from thought to thought, synapses firing all at once, “just had to be sure,” I couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't quite remember what I had been trying to say. I felt him move, shift, slightly and then the soft light from his lamp hit my eyes as he tore the blindfold away from my head roughly, pulling out a few hairs as he did so but I didn't feel the pain of it.

“Better?” He looked into my eyes and I tried to get used to the light again.

“Yes.” I sobbed.

Whimpering, begging, sobbing. He really brought out the worst reactions in me.

He had to bend my legs right back towards my head to kiss me, I felt my back protest but my insides squirm in delight and, as his lips connected with mine, I was sure again, sure it was Ryan. My Ryan and he could bend me into any position he wanted.

His name was a puff of air on his cheek as I came and felt everything again in screaming intensity.

My name was a grunt and I was pushed back hard on the bed one last time before he shook and my legs fells to the bed around him. He collapsed on top of me, his head on my stomach, hips jerking sporadically, his hot breath on my skin as he panted for air.

“Jesus Brennan.” His words were harsh sounding, like he was angry. “I thought you were going to kill me then.”

“I was thinking the same.”

“I'd die happy.”

“Oh I think I'd be pretty pissed.” He moved up my body, still cradled between my legs.

“Yeah?”

“I'd never make it into Reader's Wives.”

“I thought I'd have to marry you first.”

“You would.” I smiled at him, we were skirting around the issue so well and I was still debating whether I could live with the man. Marriage was...something else. I decided to save us both from further awkwardness. “But, first you have to let me out of the handcuffs.”