Chapter Nine #2
“Sit on the bed,” he commanded. And she wanted to do what she was told.
She didn’t feel like he was taking something from her by taking command.
She felt like he was giving her the opportunity to give him everything he wanted, to let her please him, and she wanted that more than anything.
That was pleasing herself, and maybe she would never be able to untangle that and make it make sense to somebody else, but she didn’t need it to.
It made sense to her.
Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it just felt good. That was enough. For now, that was enough.
“Lay down, and spread your legs, let me get a good look at you.”
Her exacting boss was exactly like she should have imagined he would be in bed. She hadn’t let herself, because she had been too afraid, because she had been too deep in denial, but of course this was how he was.
He was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and gave explicit instruction on how he might get it.
And she was the woman who did his bidding. So she did now.
She parted her thighs, and ignored a rush of heat that flooded her cheeks.
“I never thought that I would get married, much less have a wedding night. But you are certainly making a case for why I was foolish in neglecting such a pleasure. Of course, no other woman would do, not like this.”
Her thighs began to tremble. His words were amping up her pleasure in a way she had never imagined possible. When he touched her, all was lost. She would be lost. She wasn’t afraid of it; she was anticipating it. She needed it.
“Touch yourself,” he said. “Show me what you like.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, nerves overtaking her now. She wanted to do it right. She wanted to arouse him. She wanted—
“You cannot do it wrong,” he said. “Nothing that you do could ever be wrong. Not here.”
She bit her lip and nodded slowly, brought one hand up to cup her breast, moved her own thumb over her tightened nipple, her hips arching up off the bed as pleasure arrowed through her.
He was watching her with rapt attention, and she kept her eyes on his as she moved her other hand down between her legs and pushed her fingers through her slick folds.
White-hot pleasure lanced through her as she stroked herself beneath his intent gaze.
Her hips canted up off the bed in time with her movements, her breathing shortening, coming faster, harder.
“Stop,” he said.
She froze.
“You’re not allowed to make yourself come. Only I get to do that. And now I have seen just how. You are beautiful when you pleasure yourself. Now let’s see how beautiful you are when I pleasure you.”
He moved to the bed, his wide shoulders between her thighs as he forced them farther apart, gazing intently at that most intimate part of her. Then he lowered his head and licked her, long and slow.
She gasped, desire nearly pulling her apart. He moved his thumb to where his lips had just been, and stroked her where she was most sensitive, rolling pleasure moving through her like a wave. And then his mouth was on her again as he pushed a finger inside of her making her entirely incoherent.
He pleasured her like that until she was begging. Until she had no more control over herself.
He moved up her body, pressing his forehead to hers, his mouth just a whisper away. She could smell her own arousal on his lips, the realization making her shiver. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Perfection.”
“I take the pill,” she said. She was on it for her cycle, but she figured she might as well use it for its intended purpose.
She trusted him. She knew him well enough to know that he was fastidious in all things, and that if there was any doubt they couldn’t do this safely, he wouldn’t.
But he took her words as she meant them, pressing himself inside of her on one smooth thrust. She cried out, the shock at the invasion almost making her fly off the mattress.
“Cricket?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I’m okay,” she said. “It just surprised me. Please. I... I wanted to be good for you. I want you to like it. I need you to—”
He silenced her with a kiss, deep and long. Then he smoothed her hair out of her face. “You are perfect. Of course I like this. You fit me perfectly. I only wish I had known so that I hadn’t hurt you.”
But the pain didn’t matter. She had pleased him. That made it all fade away. Made the pleasure rise up inside of her. Made everything turn to glittering gold and glory.
“I’m just fine.”
She kissed him, softly, and then he growled and began to move within her, building the pleasure back up inside of her with each decisive stroke.
She clung to him, arching her hips in time with the movement.
This was terrifying. She’d had every good reason to be afraid of this.
Because it was intense. Because it was all-consuming.
But right now, it was hers. And nothing could take this moment from her.
He whispered words of affirmation in her ear, the kind that could never be repeated in polite company, her pleasure building inside of her like a tide, and when it finally flooded through her, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders and called out his name.
“Alex,” she whimpered.
All the years, all the lunches, all their time flashed back through her eyes until she came back to this moment. In bed with him, her husband.
He had given her this most beautiful night. This most brilliant gift.
And she realized, with a crushing weight, that while this had changed so much for her, it would have changed absolutely nothing for him.