And stare deep into his eyes as he cums. It feels like falling. It feels like seeing his soul. It feels like a privilege and a gift.
I release him and move back a little. I’m on my knees, but this doesn’t feel like kneeling. It feels as if all the power is mine.
I look down at his belly. Oh. I should have held a cloth over him at the end to catch the mess.
He doesn’t seem to mind.
His heated eyes drop to my groin. “Pleasure yourself… please.”
Oh. I am very hard.
I lick my lips. I lift up my nightgown because sod trying to figure out laces.
My hand is still oily, so there is no need to delay.
I touch my own cock and shiver. The thrill of the forbidden is deeply alluring.
I stroke. Selwyn’s eyes light up. His attention feels like a caress.
My hand flies, up and down, up and down. Until I cum with a pained-sounding whimper, in a shockingly short amount of time. Although I have little reference as to what is normal.
Selwyn stares at me with a look of awe. As if that was the best thing he has ever seen.
I stare back at him and pant while my head spins. Did that really just happen? Did I truly just do that? When the hell did I become so depraved?
And why does it feel so damn good?
I blink as he suddenly moves. He rolls off the bed and strides out of the room, his undone robe flapping around him. I stare at the door.
I don’t blame him for leaving. That was strangely intense. Overwhelming for both of us.
I heave in another breath. I’m feeling strangely good. Maybe it is simply the post-orgasm endorphins coursing through me, but right now I feel hopeful for the future.
If I can not freak out about the sex stuff, and even actually enjoy it, then that is a strong foundation.
So I think maybe, just maybe, we can fix things and make this marriage work.
Chapter thirteen
This light in Selwyn’s library is excellent, and this window seat is super comfy. I have found my new favourite spot. I could happily spend hours here drawing. As I have done so for most of today.
Hopefully, I can get a few more sketches in before the light fades. It is going to be sunset soon.
“You have some skill,” Selwyn’s deep voice rumbles behind me. Appearing out of nowhere.
I jump, and my pencil snaps in two. I catch the broken piece before it falls.
“Oh no!” I gasp.
“The drawing can be fixed, yes?” Selwyn asks.
I glance down at my sketchbook. There is a dark squiggle that can probably be erased.
“Yes,” I sigh sadly. “But this was my last pencil.”
I wonder if it could be taped together?
Selwyn steps closer, and I automatically look up at him. He has a strange look on his face.
