I adjust the blanket around her shoulders, tucking it close like she might drift away if I don’t anchor her here. She makes a small sound in her sleep and turns her face into the pillow, trusting the space she’s in to hold her.
That trust settles into my bones.
Tomorrow will bring questions. Doubt. The weight of what she chose in the dark will settle more fully into her awareness in the light.
I stay awake, listening to the sounds of our home around us. The world outside remains dangerous. My work hasn’t changed. Men will still test the edges of my authority. Violence will still be required of me.
But she is no longer separate from that reality.
She is the reason for it.
Something sharp and protective coils through me. She has spent her life sacrificing herself for things that never loved her back and I will make sure she never has to do that again.
As morning light begins to penetrate the room, she stirs against me. I haven’t slept. I didn’t want to miss a minute of our first night and I relished the fact that she trusted me enough to sleep so soundly beside me.
“Morning,” she says, her voice a little rough with sleep. She turns to face me, lifting the covers so as not to get tangled.
“Good morning,” I say, kissing her. “How are you?” I ask when I pull back from the kiss, hoping she has no regrets.
“Sore,” she says before quickly adding, “In a good way.” Her hands slide beneath the covers, find me hard and wanting. “Can I?” she asks, lightly squeezing my shaft, her meaning clear.
I should let her rest, let her figure out what last night means before we go down this road. But the memory of pumping eighteen months of pent-up release into her last night makes my balls threaten to unload instantly.
I hiss out a breath.
“I need you to know that I was celibate for you. Last night was the first time I’ve come since I first saw you. I tried to explain last night, but…” I trail off, not sure how much she took in.
She is quiet for a moment, gently sliding her long fingers over my cock, mapping every ridge and vein. Finally, “I heard you, and I understand.”
I hiss out a breath when she tightens her grip.
“Is that what you like?” she asks.
I put my hand over hers and slow her down.
“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to come, but hearing you begging…” I jolt of pleasure zaps up my spine and I groan.
“What if knowing I make you feel good, makes me feel good,” she says, and I suck in a breath, my balls tightening and my vision blurring.
That’s when it hits me. The control of restraint is my kink, her telling me to come gives me the release I desperately need. “You just need to tell me and it will happen.”
She rips the covers from us and pushes me back, straddling my thighs as her hands continue to move delicately over my length. Her pussy hovers just beyond, swollen from last night.
“Come,” she says, her eyes on my cock as she strokes it.
The release is immediate and intense. Ribbons of cum fly from the tip of my cock, landing on my chest and stomach as her eyes go wide. My body shakes with the violence of it. My breath is dragged from my lungs as sharp gasps in time with each hot spurt, until finally my head crashes back into the pillow and my back arches through the last few strains of the orgasm.
She continues to massage my length as it twitches in her palm.
“Okay,” she says, bending forward and flicking her tongue over my chest, dragging a tiny amount of my cum onto the tip. I groan, shoving my fingers into her hair and pushing it away from her face so I can watch as she tastes my cum for the first time.
Why is that so fucking hot?
My cock spasms harder, reminding us both how starved it’s been for the last year and a half.
Emma straightens and leans back a little, giving me a perfect view of her tits and pussy.
“I’m a little too sore,” she says, with what sounds like regret.
