“Virgins don’t usually go around without panties,” Sean growls. “At least in my limited information about such.”
I choke back another sob. “You’ve never?—”
“Fuck no,” he snaps. “I fuck women who want me, and who know what the fuck they’re doing. Not trembling innocents who look like they’d cry at the sight of my cock.” He motions abruptly with his hand. “Alright, fine. You’re a bloody virgin. Just lie back down.”
Shaking even more, now, I swallow hard and slide back down. I force my legs apart for him, so that he won’t do it again, and close my eyes, trying to breathe steadily as I feel his handslip between my legs again. I’m so tense that my lungs feel tight, as if I can’t get enough air.
I feel his long, callused fingers part my folds, and I gasp at his touch. His middle finger strokes upward, up to that hard nub, and I feel a strange sensation spike through me again. I fist my hands in the sheet under me, frozen as a corpse, as Sean methodically strokes his finger over that same spot, then dips it lower as if to test something. He lets out a grunt and starts to rub again, his movements methodical, trying to coax some response from my body. But I'm too frightened, too anxious, too aware that he doesn't want this, doesn't want me.
My body won't respond the way it's supposed to. Won't soften or warm or open for him.
I hear him curse under his breath, feel his hand still against me.
"Maeve." His voice is strained. "You need to relax. I can't… if you don't—" He lets out a sharp breath. “I’m big. Too big for you, probably. I’ll break you in half if you’re not ready for me.”
"I'm trying," I whisper, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm trying?—"
He lets out another grunt and shifts his position on the bed, taking his hand out from between my legs and licking his first two fingertips. The movement seems obscene somehow, and I feel my cheeks heat as he puts his hand back, his fingertips now damp as they roll over the tight little nub that is supposed to, I think, give me pleasure.
“Fuck,” he growls under his breath. He shifts, climbing onto the bed and grasping my knees as he moves them apart, kneeling between my legs. Looming over me like this, he looks huge, and my heart starts to hammer with terror, my entire body going cold. He hasn’t taken off any more clothing, but I can see a swelling against his fly, a long shape that presses against the dark fabric of his suit trousers.
He pushes my nightgown up higher, and for a moment, his gaze goes still between my thighs. My cheeks burn hotter, realizing that he’s staring at the intimate flesh there, taking in the sight of what no one else has ever looked at before.
What belongs to him, now.
“Fuck,” he growls, his voice lower, darker now, and I see that shape in his pants strain forward, thickening and growing more defined. A shudder runs through me, and I see his jaw tighten, the muscle there leaping as he starts to lean down, as if he’s going to put his face between my legs.
On instinct, I try to writhe away from him, shocked and startled and frightened. “What are you doing?” I thrash backwards, jerking out of his grip. “What—Sean?—”
“For fuck’s sake, Maeve,” he snaps, running a hand through his hair as he rocks back on his knees. “I’m trying to get you fucking wet. What woman doesn’t want her husband to fucking eat her out?”
“Eat—” I look at him, bewildered, and he lets off a string of curses, each sounding angrier than the last.
“Christ, they didn’t just give me a bloody virgin—they gave me a fucking idiot.” He glares at me. “Fine. Just… lie down. We’ll go slow.”
“I’m not—” I swallow hard, staring at him as tears drip onto my lashes. “I’mnotan idiot. I just don’t know anything about…” I wrap my arms around myself, refusing to lie back down. “Just because I didn’t have anyone to explain all of this to me doesn’t make me stupid!”
For the barest instant, I think I see his face soften before it goes hard again. “Christ,” he swears again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re not stupid. But God, I didn’t think it was possible to be so bloody naïve.”
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. We stare at each other for a long moment, and I dare another glance below his waist. Thestraining ridge I saw there a moment before has lessened. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, blinking back tears.
“Fuck,” Sean repeats. “Just… let’s get this over with. Once it’s done, we’ll wait a good long while before trying again, alright?” He says it as if it’s as much to himself as to me, and my chest aches at the idea that my husband hates me so much that he wants to put off going to bed with me again for as long as possible.
It feels so horribly conflicting, both wishing this man would disappear and hating how small and humiliated and rejected he makes me feel. I don’t want him, but I also can’t stand how little he seems to be able to tolerate me. At the very least, we’re both in the same situation. He could try to be more understanding.
But I don’t say any of that. I slide back down, my nightgown collecting around my hips, and Sean leans down, gripping the headboard with one hand as he fumbles at his zipper with the other.
He’s so much bigger than me, his broad shoulders blocking out the light, his hips settling between my thighs. He’s hard and intimidating, and panic claws up my throat. "Sean, I don't think?—"
"It's fine. Just breathe." He's not looking at me, and I hear the sound of his zipper being dragged down. "I’ll be slow, and then once I’m inside, it'll be over quick.”
The words should be comforting. They're not.
I can’t breathe. I try not to look down as I feel him palming himself free, but I can’t stop myself. I catch a glimpse of his thick length, bigger than I imagined a man could be—without much of a reference to base it off of, besides biology textbooks in school—and cold fear washes over me again.
“It’s too big,” I whisper, and Sean grunts as his hand strokes back and forth.
“You’ll be fine,” he mutters, and it sounds somewhat as if he’s trying to convince himself of that, too. His breathing quickens, and he shifts. His knee pushes my legs apart as he settles down atop me, bracing himself to keep from giving me too much of his muscled weight. I can’t move, can’t even breathe, and I feel a sudden thick, blunt pressure against my entrance.
