“I’m thinking about all those nights after the divorce when I couldn’t sleep. When I’d lie in bed, hand between my legs, trying to get myself off.”
His grip on my hips tightened, fingers digging into flesh hard enough to leave marks I’d admire later. “Yeah?”
“Mm hmm,” I hummed, feeling him twitch against my palm. “Tried everything—bought toys, read books, bought sexy lingerie—but I couldn’t do it. Nothing worked unless I pictured you.”
“Kels—” His voice came out strangled as I stroked him from root to tip.
“Had this recurring fantasy. You’d show up at the house, coming through the door like you still owned the place. You’d find me spread out on the bed with my hand between my legs.” I paused to adjust my grip, smearing the wetness over the head of his cock before continuing,
“Without a word, you’d drop into that old armchair in the corner before telling me exactly how you wanted me to touch myself.” I pressed open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down his throat.
“Would imagine your fingers digging into the arms of that chair while you told me slower… faster… deeper. Your voice getting rougher the closer I got.”
“Fuck, Kels,” he groaned, his head falling back against the couch.
I sucked hard on the spot where his neck met his shoulder, marking him the way I used to when we were teenagers. “Sometimes I imagined being with someone else, and you finding out. You’d get jealous. Show up and claim me, letting him see who I really belonged to, as you made me beg for it. Used to get myself off thinking about that one at least twice a week.”
His dick pulsed in my hand, fully hard again. I traced the prominent vein running along his shaft with my thumb, watching the way his jaw clenched.
“Now I don’t have to imagine anymore,” I whispered as I lifted my hips and took him to the hilt with a groaned curse.
“Lean back,” he ordered, voice suddenly rougher. “Hands behind you. Wanna see you.”
I obeyed, planting my palms on his thighs and arching my back until he was hitting my G-spot with every roll of my hips.
The temperature in the room skyrocketed. What had started as playful, lazy lovemaking shifted into something else entirely. Something almost desperate.
“Fuck, that’s pretty,” Teddy growled, his eyes locked on where our bodies joined. “Look at you, Kels. Taking every inch of my dick like a good girl.”
Heat crawled up my chest and neck. There it was. Not the praise, necessarily, but the rough edge creeping into his voice. Teddy had always enjoyed being in control when it came to sex, but his bossy side paired with his biker side did something shameful to me.
One hand slid up my ribcage before wrapping around my breast, squeezing while his other remained anchored on my hip, controlling my speed.
“You have any idea what these tits do to me?” He rolled my nipple between his thumb and index finger before dipping his head to drag his tongue over it.
“Didn’t matter if I was at school, at the shop, in church, on a club run—didn’t matter where I was, I was constantly thinking about these perfect tits. How they feel in my hands, in my mouth. How they bounce when you ride me like this.” He sucked one nipple into his mouth, hard enough to make me cry out.
Teddy immediately pulled back, catching himself. “Shit, Kels. I’m sorry?—”
“Don’t.” I caught his face between my palms, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t apologize for that.”
His brows pinched together, hazel eyes searching mine like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “But I?—”
“I liked it,” I whispered, feeling heat flood my cheeks at the admission. “The biker side—the dirty talk. I’ve always liked it.”
Teddy went completely still beneath me, his expression shifting from apologetic to utterly dumbfounded. “You what?”
“I said I liked it,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “When you getlike that—all rough and filthy—it makes me feel...” I trailed off, searching for the right words. “I don’t know—desired. Wanted. Like you can’t help yourself.”
“Kels, I’ve spent over thirty years trying not to talk to you like—” He stopped, jaw working. “Didn’t want you to think I was disrespecting you. Treating you like some club whore instead of my wife.”
“But I didn’t feel disrespected,” I argued, rocking against him to emphasize my point. “I felt powerful. Knowing I could make you lose control like that? That I was the reason you couldn’t keep it together?” I bit my lip. “God, Teddy, that’s incredibly hot.”
“You’re telling me you wanted me to talk dirty to you, but you never…” He trailed off, looking almost more confused than before. “You always seemed to pull away or go quiet on me?—”
“Because I was embarrassed!” I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. “We had kids, Teddy. I was Perfect Kelsey, mother of three. Mothers aren’t supposed to get wet when their husbands come home from a club run, all sweat and testosterone. Or want their husband to call them filthy names and manhandle them during sex. I thought there was something wrong with me, like it was wrong to want the things I did sexually.”
I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it, to laugh the entire thing off as a joke, and retreat to safer ground. After years of feeling invisible, of moving through life like a ghost in my own story, being suddenly seen was like staring into the sun.
