His frown breaks off my anxious question. “I’m sure. It was a lot better for both of us tonight.”
“Okay.” I giggle. I don’t know why. I just can’t help it. “But I do want to try again.”
“When you’re ready, we’ll definitely try again.”
We try again the next night. Mason is careful, and he goes slow. So slow that it’s a lot more comfortable than before and I finally have to encourage him to get moving. When he does, he comes almost immediately. He’s disappointed in himself, but I don’t mind at all.
I’m glad he got to finish inside me, and I’m relieved that it felt a lot better.
The next night, we try it again. This time he manages to last longer, although he’s tightly reining himself in to keep from going too fast or hard. I’m worried he won’t enjoy it as much since he can’t really let go, but anytime I allude to that, he gets grumpy and insists it’s exactly the way he wants it.
I don’t actually know if I believe him or not, but I definitely believe he’s scared of hurting me again.
For a few weeks, we keep trying until eventually it’s completely comfortable for me to have him inside me.
After that, things are easier because he doesn’t have to be cautious all the time. We have sex almost every night. He does me with his hand and then he moves over me and has his turn. He’s still holding back, I suspect, but not as much as at first. I watch carefully, and there’s no sign that he’s not enjoying it.
Overall, he seems warmer and more natural with me than he was at the beginning, and I feel that way too.
We’re doing fine. This life we’re making together is better than either of us had alone.
It’s not like the universe will ever give us everything. And nothing given is ever free.
But still… I’ve never been happier than this.
10
Two months later,I wake up in Mason’s bed.
We never actually decided I should start sleeping in the big bed with him. I actually like having my own room and a door I can shut for privacy. It’s a real luxury after so many years without.
But sometimes I don’t feel like moving back into my cold bed after we have sex, and Mason doesn’t seem to mind if I sleep the night in his bed.
In fact, sometimes he pulls me back into bed afterward.
Occasionally during the night, if I’ve rolled over toward the edge of the bed, he reaches out in his sleep and draws me back closer to him.
This morning, it’s the end of January, and it’s cold and very dark. The sun takes longer to rise, so we don’t start our days as early as before.
Sometimes I like that. Mason usually doesn’t begin working until dawn, so we get to spend more time in bed in the mornings.
Careful not to wake him up, I roll onto my side facing away from him and close my eyes to see if I can drift back to sleep.
No luck.
My mind whirls with memories of yesterday when I ran into Aria at the seamstress. She was getting a dress altered. I was getting fitted for a new one.
We had enough credits left over this month to afford a brand-new dress. I thought Mason should use them for a new set of clothes for himself. When he said he didn’t need them (which is true—he has a lot more clothes than me), I suggested a new work outfit for me. But he insisted we get me a new dress instead. I can work in any old thing I scavenge or that’s left over from his mother. But a good day dress has to be custom-made, and we have enough credits for it this month.
So I’m getting a new dress, and I was at the seamstress when Aria came in for alterations on one of last year’s dresses.
I wish I wasn’t so petty, but I wanted to gloat.
I’m quite sure she can’t afford a new dress because they no longer have the basic living credits from me. They certainly never used them on me, so they probably don’t have a lot of extra credits left over at the end of each month like they used to.
I, on the other hand, have a good home and a comfortable lifestyle and a man who is kind and generous to me and enough extra to get a new dress for no particular reason.
Our situations have altered considerably and mine for the better.
