Chapter 11 #2
She was trembling with need by the time they, together, stepped into the bath, the water lapping up in gentle waves.
She settled between his legs, leaning back onto the solid wall of his chest. His hard, engorged rod a bar of iron against her lower back.
She wanted to lift herself up and sink onto that glorious cock.
Let it fill her until it vanquished the aching emptiness inside her.
But his arms came around her automatically, holding her in place for his leisurely exploration. As his soap-slicked hands glided over her torso, teasing her nipples into turgid little pebbles, she let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder.
For the first time in too long, she felt…safe.
Which made no sense, given the storm of passion that raged inside her.
It should scare her, excite her, compel her.
And it did all of that. But underneath it all, the strongest emotion was that she could give in to the storm.
Because this was Nathaniel. He would see her through.
He would hold her and protect her through it all.
She turned her head to kiss the underside of his jaw. His hands on her breasts were relentless, causing her to squirm and thrash, water spilling over the edge of the bath. She sneaked a hand behind her back and took hold of the iron rod encased in the softest skin.
He groaned and for a moment, pumped into her hand, but then he pulled himself out of her grasp.
“Later,” he rasped. “For the moment, just enjoy.”
What followed was a slow exploration of her body. His soapy hands ran over every inch of her skin. Her breasts, her belly, her arms, the inside of her thighs. Molding. Claiming. Owning.
Surrendering herself to her husband’s mastery of her body was not an option but a need. He played her like a maestro plays the violin, and in his hands, her body was a finely tuned instrument.
His clever, dexterous fingers played over the swollen folds of her sex, a whisper-soft caress that inflamed rather than satisfied.
She whimpered and pressed into his hand, eliciting a low, dark chuckle from his throat.
He was aware of what he was doing, of course.
The effect it was having on her. And she couldn’t even be cross.
The longer he teased her, the longer he played with her and wound her up tighter, the stronger the release would be.
His lips coasted along her neck. Licking, then softly biting as one long finger slid inside her hungry sheath. She gasped and clamped around it, making a mewling sound of need.
“Ready for more?” he whispered in her ear, his voice smoky and dark as midnight.
“Yes!” It burst out of her. A demand. A plea. A cry for help.
The finger withdrew, and the next time he pushed in, another joined the first. They slid easily in the abundant moisture of her sheath, moving slowly and deeply inside of her, caressing her insides while his thumb found her nub and circled it relentlessly.
The double stimulation made her wild. A creature made of fire and desire. She writhed against him, pushing into his hand. But when his other hand joined the action, pinching and rolling one over-sensitized nipple between thumb and forefinger, she lost her mind.
“Nate…I can’t. It’s too much,” she whimpered, almost incoherent with lust.
“You can take it. I know you can. You are going to take all the pleasure I give you, and you are going to come for me. Go ahead, Alice. Squeeze my fingers with your tight little cunny while you explode into a million sparks like a firework.”
“Nathaniel…”
“That’s right, say my name. It’s me. Now be a good girl and come for me, wife.”
He backed up his words with actions, and his clever fingers detonated the orgasm he had been carefully building.
Her head rolled from side to side on his shoulder while spots of light danced in front of her eyes.
Sound muffled, and she was only aware of the beat of his heart, pounding under her ear as she descended back to earth.
Nathaniel shifted slightly behind her, his arms still locked around her frame.
Her skin felt flushed. From the heat of the bath or her lingering desire?
She’d gone pliant, exquisite languor tugging at her head until she rested it back against his shoulder.
Her breath came in slow, languid waves. For long minutes, neither of them spoke.
The only sounds were the gentle ripple of water and their shared breathing.
“That was…divine,” she said at last, turning within his arms to look at him with a doting smile plastered on her face. She couldn’t even care while she floated in this bliss he had created.
She lay sideways against him and leaned up to kiss the corner of his lips. He had taken her in a low moment and had vanquished her sadness, loneliness, and despair.
“Thank you,” she murmured, looking into his eyes.
Eyes of a blue so dark they appeared almost black.
But she knew their true color, for she had gazed upon them so many times.
She knew the pattern of his beard, the little scar on the underside of his jaw.
She knew the exact shape and texture of his beautiful lips.
“No thanks needed, love. You know I enjoyed that as much as you did.”
She chuckled. “No one could have enjoyed that as much as I did,” she contradicted him, and he raised an eyebrow in defiance. It was a thing between them that he always insisted he enjoyed pleasuring her as much, if not more than her receiving it. And she always protested that it was impossible.
But seeing the satisfied spark in his eyes, she started to believe that maybe it was true.
His rod was still as hard as iron, pulsing with desire against her hip.
And yet deep satisfaction glowed on his face.
He appeared in no rush to appease his desire.
It was as if he were sharing in her post-orgasmic contentment.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Her tone reflected the wonder she felt.
“Of course I do. I always did. I don’t know why you never believed me.”
“It’s just that…well, I don’t know how your pleasure could be equal to mine without actually culminating.”
He slid lower in the tub, rested his head back on the lip of the bath and looked up to the ceiling with a faraway look and a small, satisfied smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“I can’t explain it logically, but seeing you go wild, watching your face contort in ecstasy and then go slack with satisfaction, and knowing that I caused that…
It makes me feel invincible. Powerful. It gives me a sense of accomplishment that nothing can surpass.
I picture your face as you climax when I frig myself. ”
“Nathaniel!” Her eyes widened, and her gasp of laughter was half scandalized at the indecorous revelation and half flattered that she featured in his fantasies at all.
“What?” he replied, looking at her completely unashamed. “Are you scandalized to hear that I frig myself? Of course I do. How else was I going to get by? Don’t you touch yourself as well, Alice?”
“I…” Yes, she did. Often. Some days she missed him so much.
She felt so lonely, so starved for touch that it only took a few strokes of her fingers to bring her to orgasm.
But while delivering pleasure, those solo sessions never provided real comfort.
The relief was always fleeting, never lasting longer than it took for her climax to fade.
But she couldn’t confess to it. Ridiculous, of course, to feel shy about that after all the shameless acts they had performed together.
His half-smile was wicked. As if he already knew the answer but wanted to hear her say it.
“Go on, Alice. I dare you to tell me. Do you rub your little pearl often? Do you think of me when you do?”
“Y-yes. To both questions,” she said, hiding her face against his chest as his laughter rumbled under her cheek.
“I knew you were a wicked girl. And I wouldn’t have you any other way. Come,” he murmured, his voice husky. “You’ll catch a cold if we stay here much longer.”