Chapter 15 - Kyle

After our wonderful night in the woods, we spend a quiet day together. Just like after the first night, Leslie let me sleep next to her—we watch movies, eat snacks, and lie around in bed.

This was the basis of our relationship before, and it made me unbelievably happy. A place I can feel safe, comfortable, and loved, a person I can truly relax with—these are things I never had growing up. They truly are the simplest of things, and I’ve always craved them.

Now that I have it, I never want to let it go.

I see a darkness lurking at the edges of Leslie’s eyes, an occasional hesitance in her voice. I know I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but it doesn’t stop me from praying for it. I enjoy every single second of our lazy, quiet day, wishing with every fiber of my being that I will get to enjoy this for the rest of my life.

We fall asleep together, and I have another perfectly restful, refreshing sleep. We both wake up fairly early, and that’s when Leslie hits me with a surprise.

“How would you like to run up to Montrose?” she asks as we sit down at the table for coffee. “I wouldn’t mind a little adventure.”

“Sounds good,” I agree. “I’m a little short on money, though. Bae hasn’t paid me for last week.”

“All my treat,” she says, smiling. “We can hit one of the nice restaurants up there, maybe see one of the lookouts.”

“I’d love to,” I answer, grinning. I’m thinking about spending a blissful day with Leslie, and I don’t really care what we do.

After we get ready, we jump in Leslie’s small car and head off. We stop at the first gas station for snacks, spending the drive bickering about which music to listen to and eating candy. It’s no exaggeration to say I’m having the most fun I’ve ever had in my life.

The drive to Montrose is a little shorter than the drive to Silverton, and it makes me remember all those late nights I drove through the cold to get to Leslie’s place. She did the same for me as well. Sometimes, we would shift and run through the woods to meet halfway, howling to let each other know where we were and tracking each other’s scent.

My heart aches with deep regret that I kept our relationship secret. After Jack was banned from seeing Lena, I didn’t want anyone interfering with us. It would have killed me to be separated from Leslie, and there was no way I could go against my alpha. Especially when I’d worked so hard to prove my worth.

Along with the secrecy, hanging out with Darla was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Darla would be the first to admit that the relationship between us was anything but romantic, but instead of being open about what I was doing, I just let everyone assume what they wanted.

And it destroyed Leslie.

I can’t take my eyes off her as she steers the car through the wide streets, eagerly looking around at the buildings and attractions. Montrose is a hell of a lot bigger than Silver Meadows, and its surrounding towns seem to be teeming with people in comparison.

“What would you like to do first?” she asks. “It’s your day. You pick.”

“Ah.” She’s caught me off-guard, because I have no fucking clue. “I’m hungry, so maybe we should start there.”

“Sure thing,” she answers. “I could use a bite myself.”

We pull into one of the many parking lots and don’t have to walk far before we find a great little burger joint. Leslie demolishes a giant cheeseburger and a large order of fries before she starts stealing my onion rings.

“Quit it,” I say, batting away her fingers. “Get your own.”

“You’re right,” she agrees solemnly. “You’re wasting away. I should be stuffing them into your face.”

“Oh, please,” I answer, grinning. “No, for the love of God, don’t force-feed me onion rings!”

“I agree,” Leslie says, nodding emphatically. “Not nearly enough fat to really make a difference. Donuts it is, and cookies on the side.”

“I cannot!” I dramatically put one hand to my forehead, taking on a clipped tone. “I will not allow such torture.”

“Well, then, that’s unfortunate,” Leslie says with an evil grin. “I guess I’ll just have to tie you up and make you take your medicine.”

The idea of being tightly wrapped in rope, my arms held by my sides, while Leslie sits on my chest feeding me donuts blasts every other thought from my head. I move a little in my seat, feeling my cock get harder than it ever has in my life.

The sensations come along with the thoughts, intoxicating my senses. I can feel her weight pressing me down, the helplessness as my hands struggle against the ropes. I can smell the sweet, cakey, buttery aroma of the donuts and taste the gritty sugar on her fingers as she slips crispy, soft morsels between my lips.

Leslie grins, raising an eyebrow. “Are you okay, my sweet one? You look like you’ve taken a hit to the balls. Are you thinking about my dastardly punishment, and how awful it’s going to be?”

I nod, my throat so tight, I can barely breathe.

You can meddle with my balls all you like.

“I’m paralyzed by… fear,” I mutter. “I cannot abide the thought of this torture. Spare me some mercy, woman!”

“Never,” she whispers, leaning across the table to kiss me quickly on the lips. For a brief second, we share the taste of salt and buttery, crisp onion.

We end up ordering another serving, and I manage to get through the rest of lunch without succumbing to my constantly increasing arousal. By the time we leave the restaurant, I’m presentable, but just barely.

I can’t wear tight jeans around her ever again. I’ll have to start wearing baggy sweats to hide my constant hard-on.

We head out and visit the Museum of Mountain West, as well as the surrounding lookouts. Leslie decides she wants to meet an alpaca, so we go out to the nearby ranch.

To her delight, we are allowed to pet the fuzzy creatures and give them snacks. Even though they can be flighty and often nervous, Leslie charms them all, giving them scratches and kisses. We learn about their wool, and Leslie buys us sweaters from the shop.

Back in the center of town, Leslie decides to check out a couple of clothing stores.

“I feel bad,” she says, giggling. “I wanted this day to be all about you. I don’t want you to get bored looking at women’s clothes.”

“If they’re going to be on you, I think it sounds like a very good time,” I answer, grabbing her waist and tickling her a bit.

“I mean it,” she giggles. “I wanted to get you out of Silver Meadows for the day so you could forget about all the pack stress and… get your mind off other stuff.”

I smile down at her, brushing her thick, honey-colored curls away from her cheek. “I’m having a wonderful time with you,” I say softly. “If you want to look at dresses, by all means, let’s go!”

She shrugs, her smile a little shy. “Okay. If you don’t mind. They have much nicer shops here, so I’d really like to take a look.”

“Does it give you ideas for your own designs?” I ask. She was interested in the alpaca wool for the same reason.

“It does,” she answers. “But I like to see what private boutiques have because it’s really unique. We have nothing like it in Silverton or anywhere around there.”

I happily oblige when Leslie chooses a boutique, following her inside. She wanders through the store, admiring colors and designs and slowly acquiring a massive stack of clothes that I gallantly offer to carry. When she goes into the dressing room, her eyes are bright with excitement, and she’s smiling with the anticipation of a kid on Christmas morning.

I sit and wait by the mirrors in the little line of chairs that can only exist for the use of patiently waiting husbands. I can’t imagine being the type of guy who would get bored or pissed off in a situation like this.

I can’t wait to see my babe in those awesome clothes, and she’s so happy! I’ll sit here all day if she wants me to.

When Leslie comes out of the dressing room, she gives me a shy smile as she pushes the curtain aside. She’s wearing a wine-red dress that wraps around her waist and sweeps in folds right down to her ankles. I let out a low whistle.

“That’s so hot!”

“Really?” she asks, and I nod emphatically. She trots over to the mirror and does a twirl. I see her face crumple a little. Since I know nothing about fashion, I keep my mouth shut.

She hurries back to the dressing room and comes back out in a long black skirt and deep green top. The green blouse ties up across her beautiful big breasts and has a line of laces across her soft tummy. The long edges fall against her wide hips, covering the top of the black skirt.

Leslie doesn’t look at me, just hurries to the mirror. She pulls the face again.

“That one looks great, babe,” I say.

She shakes her head slightly and dashes back to the dressing room. I hear her throwing things around and cursing softly. Then she comes out in a beautiful black and gray dress.

It has a high neck and long sleeves, a tight waist, and very long, flowing skirts. The black and gray patterns across her chest in spirals of color, forming a little filigree on the top near her left shoulder. I’m absolutely struck by how lovely she looks.

I watch her staring into the mirror, her beautiful gray eyes lit up by the identical shades in the dress. Her honey-colored hair falls around her shoulders in soft waves, the brightness contrasted by the monochrome of the fabric.

Leslie makes a small sound like a sob and bolts back to the dressing room.

What the holy fuck is going on?

I get up and hurry over to the curtain, knocking softly on the wall. “Babe, are you okay?”

She makes an unintelligible snuffling sound, and it alarms me greatly because I’m pretty sure she’s crying.

“Leslie, what’s going on?”

“Nothing! I—I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“I’m coming in,” I say firmly, slipping inside the curtain.

She’s standing by the wall, her face in her hands, crying softly. She shakes her head a little. “Go away. I don’t want to talk.”

“But what the hell is going on?” I ask, mystified. “Please tell me you’re going to buy that dress. Seriously, it would be a sin to leave without it.”

She scowls at me. “Don’t even. I don’t want your pity.”

“Pity?” I say, and my voice comes out too harsh. “What the actual fuck? You look fucking amazing, Leslie!”

“I don’t!” she snaps. “I look like a fucking tomato trussed in tight string. I fucking hate this. No matter what I wear, I just look like a goddamn fucking potato in a sack!”

She puts her head back into her hands and cries while I stand there staring at her, trying desperately to reconcile the gorgeous vision in front of me with her inner image of herself.

“Just get out,” she mutters. “I’ll put my clothes back on, and we’ll go somewhere else.”

“Leslie,” I say. “I meant what I said. We are not leaving without that dress, even if I have to sell a fucking kidney to do it.”

“What?” she asks. “Why?”

“Because you look fucking stunning!” I can’t stop my voice from rising. “You look like a queen, my love. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful, except maybe you on our wedding day.”

She’s staring at me, a curious expression on her face. She wants to believe me, I can tell.

“It’s not a trick, my love,” I say, going over to her and putting my hands on her shoulders. “I am telling you the absolute truth.”

I look right into her eyes, trying to impress upon her what I see when I look at her. I can’t believe she looks into the mirror and sees herself as ugly. The idea is so disgusting to me, I literally can’t bear it.

“I love this face,” I say, running a finger down her cheek. “I love your gorgeous lips, pretty eyes, and round cheeks.” I give one of her dimples a pinch to prove my point, and she blushes.

I run my hands down her arms, squeezing a little as I do. “I love these beautiful, strong arms. When you hug me, I feel safe and held, like your arms are strong enough to take away all the bad things in the back of my head.”

“Like this?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my waist.

“Just like that,” I answer, stroking her hair. “I love this gorgeous long hair, like sunlight glinting on fresh, warm honey. I wish I could swim in it.”

She giggles softly, looking away. I reach down, running my fingers down her back to tickle her sides.

“I love your soft waist, and your tummy,” I say, digging my fingers into her to tickle her a little. She giggles and shivers in my arms, making me tickle her even more.

When she wriggles against me, I run my hands down even further and cup her ass with both hands. I squeeze her cheeks hard and whisper into her ear.

“I love your beautiful big ass.” I let my lips graze her earlobe as I keep my voice low and sexy. “I love getting a great big handful of this ass and giving it a nice hard squeeze.”

I give her another one, and she yelps and jumps, giggling in my ear. I tug her hard against my body and writhe a bit, enjoying the feel of all her soft curves rubbing against me.

I drop my face down, looking at her huge breasts jiggling against the fabric of the gown. “That’s the only thing I don’t like about this dress,” I say, rubbing my face against the soft fabric. “I can’t see your fucking amazing, magnificent tits.”

Leslie cries out in pleasure as I rub my face against her, teasing her through the fabric. I can clearly see her nipples getting hard, and I know her well enough to know what else must be happening.

I wrap one arm firmly around her waist and plunge my other hand down, flicking the skirts out of the way so I can run my hand up her silky thighs.

“I love these big, strong thighs,” I whisper against her cheek. “I love how you clamp them around me and squeeze me like you’re going to break me in half.”

I keep moving my hand, and Leslie trembles in my grip, opening her legs. As my fingers reach her hot, wet pussy, I moan in rapture, lowering my face to her neck to breathe in her incredible scent.

“I love your pussy,” I whisper, tracing my lips along her neck. “I love how hot and wet you always are. I love how strong and how soft your body is at the same time. I love how you take my cock. No matter how hard and big I am, your gorgeous pussy just begs for more every single time.”

I plunge my fingers into her, rubbing through her slippery folds to tease her clit. Leslie cries out, then seems to remember where we are and bites her lip. I smile at her, and she shakes her head. I nod, grinning like the devil himself.

I slide my fingers into her, letting out a gasp as I feel her pussy clench around my hand. I tease around the outer edges before pushing my fingers deep inside and pumping in and out with slow, long strokes.

Leslie clings to me, her teeth embedded in her lip as she tries to stop herself from screaming. I hold her tight against me, eagerly exploring her pussy with my other hand.

When I stop, her cheeks are red and her eyes are dewy. She gasps softly as she looks up at me, and I kiss her softly.

“You are a queen,” I say firmly. “And every queen should have a man who begs to kneel before her.”

I move back so I can get down on my knees. Leslie watches me, her eyes wide. When I grab the skirt and flick it up over my head, she covers her mouth with both hands and shuts her eyes.

I plunge my mouth into her pussy, lapping at the outer lips and shoving my tongue inside. I dig my fingers into her thick thighs and fill my mouth with her, moaning low in my throat as I drink up all her sweet juice.

I don’t stop, even as I feel shivers running through her and goosebumps rushing across her skin. I hear her muffled cries as she tries desperately to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. I just open my mouth even wider and moan into her, feeling the spasms of her gorgeous pussy against my mouth and tongue as she comes over and over again.