He runs his hand down the length of me, until he finds my clit with the pad of his thumb. He sucks and teases and finally moves his hips again, helping me chase an orgasm I deeply need, if only to erase the frustration. I get into a promising rhythm, then he lets go of my nipple with a pop and says, “So, about my ideal wife…”
What the hell is he talking about? The guy needs toshut up. “Almost there, babe,” I whine, pushing his head down toward my breast.
He stops moving inside me. “You in a hurry to go somewhere?” He’s frowning at me, like I’m this mystery he’s trying to figure out.
I close my eyes in frustration. “Alright, let’s just… What’s going through your mind right now?” It can’t be that bad, because he’s hard as a rock inside me.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
For real? I’d laugh at that, but the way his biceps are bulging right next to my breasts, the way his neck is tense right above me, the way the vein is bulging on his forehead… I don’t understand how he wants to talk when clearly all signs indicate he wants to fuck me.
“Is this… is this some kind of weird sex game nerds like to play? Cos I wouldn’t know.”
His cock deflates a tad. Guess that must have hurt. “See how it feels when we bring exes into the bedroom?” Keep frustrating me sexually, and the sass comes right out.
“I’m sorry you’ve only known inarticulate bedmates,” he says. “Must have been boring as hell.” He withdraws and starts a slow descent of his mouth down my torso. Laving the breast that didn’t get any attention yet, he uses his teeth just to the limit of pain, cupping my pussy with his hand. He slides a finger down my center, all the way to my butthole, his thumb pad barely skimming my clit.
Leaving my breast, he lowers himself slowly, peppering kisses on my stomach while he continues teasing both my entrances with one hand. “Remember when you gave me that whole speech about how I should feel when I propose to my wife?” He lifts his head, gaze locked on mine, awaiting an answer.
“Yeah?” I’m not sure what he’s talking about, if I’m being honest.
“You had all these ideas about the wedding and the babies wearing glasses.”
Oh, that. Right.
He presses two fingers on my butthole while his thumb enters me, the feeling new and scary andso good.“You forgot something.”
Oh god. What now?
He lifts his gaze to me, spearing me with his darkened irises. “Well like I said, you forgot something. You forgot to say that the first time I’d make love to her, I should feel reborn.”
My heart swells at his words.The sass has left the building.
With his free hand, he cups my throat. “Like Superman. Yet humbled.”
I blink out the tears of overwhelm that threaten to spill.Noah. This is how Noah thinks about me.
He flips us over so I straddle him. “You forgot to say I’d feel like a god and a slave at the same time,” he says, palming my breasts. “Like her master and her servant.”
I move on his cock, and we stay that way for a little bit, the weight of his words engulfing me.
He slaps the side of my butt cheek. “Now ride your husband like a good little housewife,” he orders, circling my waist with his strong hands and spearing me on his cock, “before I fuck you properly.”
He keeps his promise. After I come undone on him, he sets me on my knees against the headboard and takes me from behind, one flexed arm against the wall, the other holding me, fingers teasing my nipple. He sucks on my neck. “I was thinking about you in the shower, Willow, I hope you know that. But, fuck, your cunt is so much better than I ever thought it could be. You forgot to say my wife’s pussy should feel like it was custom-made for me. The exes can come in the bedroom and take a lesson. You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I want to be the best for you.”
He rams into me harder, his words morphing into grunts, his hands gripping my waist. I feel another orgasm build, weeks of suppressed need finding their release, and let it roll out as he empties himself inside me, clenching me close to him.
We collapse on the bed, and he pulls me against his chest as we catch our breaths.
He kisses my forehead, the most tender look in his eyes. Then his gaze moves to the window, where the moon is rising, shining bright, the tall trees casting shadows on the bedroom walls.
“When I asked you to marry me, by the lake at the wedding, and you turned me down… You also said something about butterflies in my stomach and losing my appetite. That the woman I marry should do that to me.”
That sounds like something I would say, so I nod.
“You do that to me, Willow. And a lot more.” A sad smile plays on his face. “I don’t understand why I never looked at you in this way before.”
My heart falters a bit. “It’s because I’m not the right match for you, Noah,” I croak. “Your family—”
