But I am lucky.
Because in my arms, sated, she falls, mercifully, asleep.
Chapter 48
Annabelle
My husband will not fuck me.
That much is clear.
And I have no ideawhy.
I would assume his ardor has cooled. But he literally came last night just from watching me suck his cum off my fingers. I hadn’t even meant the gesture seriously. It had been, in my mind, a kind of joke.
So it isn’t that he doesn’t want me anymore.
I wonder if he is bashful about something, but I can’t imagine what. And he has seemed so much more confident recently.
Perhaps something about Frank Holster? His resistance began after I told him about Frank.
But he seemed reassured on that score after our conversation on the train.
No matter, I am determined to find out.
I do not want to begin our new life in London with some misunderstanding between us.
During the night, Alfred wound himself around me, so that when I awaken, my arse is up against his cock.
Perfect.
I wiggle against him. He hardens against me—and stirs.
“Wife,” he says in my ear, his hand grasping the curve of my hip. “I never tire of waking like this.”
I believe him. After all, for so long he wanted to be married. I never thought I would be with a man who desired matrimony. I always imagined such a fellow would only want a woman to control. But Alfred is nothing like that.
“I have come to quite enjoy it myself. And I find that I awake with a particular hunger…”
I nestle my backside into him further. He groans.
“What I suggested last night—rutting like this—I want it.”
If he refuses such a direct request, I will know somethingisvery wrong indeed.
For a moment he is quiet.
“Or I could put my mouth on your pussy and make you see stars.”
I must admit it. Those words, low in my ear, cause me to shiver.
But I am intent on my purpose.
“While I would doubtlessly enjoy that, I want you to fuck me.”
He says nothing. But he grows harder against me.
I pull up my nightdress so that nothing separates our bodies.
