Drowning On Dry Land — Megan Hart

Some doors stay open until you close them.
Moving on from a past love, Bette Douglas has discovered a whole new world of satisfaction and contentment with her boy Damian...but when the past comes knocking, Bette's decision to answer it could change everything.

Excerpt:

She found him in the bedroom. Black lace panties cupped his tight, round ass and bulged in the front, not nearly big enough to cover his thick cock. Through the lace, the metal of his chastity cage glinted. He was on his knees, back straight but head bowed. Arms behind him, wrists crossed. He'd been waiting for her.


“Hello, love,” she said, which was his permission to look at her.
“

Ma'am.” Damian's grin lit up his whole face. “How was your day?”


Bette gestured with a flick of her fingers, encouraging him to rise as she went to the dresser to place her glass. “It was all right. Nothing exciting. Glad to be home. Dinner smells delicious, sweetheart, how did you know I was in the mood for pasta?”


Damian came up behind her to nuzzle the back of her neck. “Lucky guess?”


Bette turned in the circle of his arms to take his face in her hands. Damian stood only a few inches taller than her. His height had been one of the reasons she'd been so attracted to him at first. She'd always preferred tall men, but funny how you could get imprinted on something that changed how you felt. She studied his smile and the light in his pale blue eyes, the color of a cloudless summer sky. Soft blond hair peaked above a high hairline, and he wore it close-cropped, much shorter than she preferred. He would never have turned her head if they'd passed on the street, but he'd become beautiful to her because he was hers.
Her melancholy had been triggered by the walk home under fall-turning leaves, the far-off hint of an old, familiar song and a hint of cologne on a passing stranger. The sadness had hit her with a relentless ferocity, but standing in front of her lover, Bette pushed away the memories of that other man. Why should she spend her time dwelling on the past when she had something precious right here in front of her?


She kissed Damian lightly, letting the caress linger but without pressure. She pushed her face into the curve of his shoulder so he could hold her. He smelled of soap and flesh, never cologne. She'd told him she didn't like it, which was a lie but one she didn't feel bad about telling him. 
They rocked slowly together for a few moments. She nibbled at his neck and laughed at the sharp hiss of his breath. Then again when she slid a hand up his naked torso to pinch his nipple. Then his hiss became a groan, and when she pulled away to look at his face, his eyes had gone heavy lidded. His lips parted, wet from the swipe of his tongue.
It had been four weeks since she'd last permitted him an orgasm. When she cupped his cock through the lace, the metal of his chastity cage felt warm on her palm. Bette let her fingertips tickle downward over his balls, which were not contained by the device. They tightened delightfully at her exploration.


“So pretty,” she murmured as she slipped down the panties, freeing him to her grasp.


Damian shivered but moved to put his feet shoulder-width apart, giving her ample access to every part of him. “Thank you, Ma'am.

”
“I always think I prefer you in lace, until I see you naked,” Bette told him.


He grinned. “I like being naked for you.”


They'd been together for almost a year. He'd moved into her apartment after six months because everything had been working so perfectly. It still did. Maybe one day, Bette thought as she circled around him, a finger tracing a line from his belly to the small of his back, maybe one day she would stop expecting it all to end.