Chapter 9 – Maura #3
He laps at me again, slowly picking up speed as he catalogues my reactions.
He finds a rhythm that has me whimpering for him, his flat tongue stroking me slowly but relentlessly.
My hips grind against the two fingers already buried inside me, stretching me.
When the tip of his third finger prods my entrance, I don’t tense up.
“Yes, James, please.” I sound breathy and desperate, like a creature I don’t even recognize.
Then his third finger presses inside, and I’m immediately humbled. The stretch stings, and I hiss through my teeth at the discomfort. It’s so much, too much, and I don’t know if I can handle it if he moves any more.
“I know,” James murmurs, his breath hot between my legs. “It’s a lot, but you can take it.”
“What makes you so sure?” I’m only half joking.
“Because you’re strong, Maura, and you’re doing so well already.”
He lowers his head again and laps softly at my clit, not moving his fingers, letting me adjust to the intrusion. He’s patient as he coaxes me into relaxing. My thighs relax around his face, jolts of electric heat replacing the burning stretch.
When my hips start rocking against his mouth, James moans against me, burying his face in my pussy as he devours me.
If it were anyone else, I might be self-conscious about whether he was really enjoying himself.
But this is James—there’s no emotion, no obligation.
He’s there because he wants to be, and I give myself over fully to the feeling of it.
The pleasure creeps up on me at first, then subsumes me like an avalanche. My whole body shakes, my thighs clenching around James’s head as my climax takes over me. My vision goes white, and it takes a long moment for the world to come back into focus.
I blink, and James is smiling up at me.
“Beautiful,” he praises, sending a flush of warmth through my chest. He has no idea what he just gave me—not just the best orgasm of my life, though that would be more than enough.
It was my first orgasm with anyone other than myself.
He reaches down, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them off along with his briefs. He’s finally fully naked, the strong muscles in his thighs matching the muscles of his chest, and—
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
James's lips twitch—the closest thing to a smile I've seen from him. “That's the typical reaction.”
“I didn't mean—I just—” I can't stop staring. “How does that even work?”
“Carefully.” He strokes himself slowly, almost lazily, and my mouth goes dry watching his hand move. “And only with a partner who trusts me.”
I could tell James was big just from his body pressing against mine, but nothing prepared me for the full size of it.
It’s long and thick, more than any cock I’ve ever seen.
If I wrapped my hand around him, even with my long fingers, they wouldn’t even come close to touching.
No wonder he took so long getting me ready—I’d need a hell of a warm-up just to take the tip of him.
He circles his cock with his hand, pumping it slowly as I realize there’s more. He’s still growing, and a spike of fear pierces through me. Maybe those rumors about him sending his lovers to the hospital were true, after all. It’s not hard to imagine him splitting someone open trying to fit him.
“It’s okay,” James says, his eyes fixed on mine. His gaze is steady and reassuring. “We’ll go slow. Most women only take half, so I’ll be happy with however much you can handle. Okay?”
His thumb traces my cheekbone, unexpectedly tender. “I mean it, Maura. Whatever you can give me is enough. I won't be disappointed.”
Something in my chest cracks open at that. He means it. I can see it in the way his jaw is set, the restraint coiled in every muscle. This man who gets everything he wants is telling me he'll be satisfied with whatever I offer.
It makes me want to give him everything.
I let out a shaky breath. He hasn’t given me a reason not to trust him, not in this. “Okay.”
He crawls up the bed and hovers over me, supporting his weight on his arms. His blue eyes flash up to mine, and for a second, I catch a glint of warmth instead of ice.
His mouth closes around mine, his tongue moving in long, sensual strokes. It’s enough to take over my senses—enough to distract me while he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.
He pauses there, jaw tight with restraint. “Look at me, Maura.”
My eyes flutter open.
“I need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?” His voice is guarded. “You're so small. I don't want to hurt you.”
“You won't.”
“I might.”
He moves the swollen tip through my wetness, coating it before he starts to push inside.
“Fuck!”
The word tears out of me before I can stop it. He's barely inside me and I already feel impossibly full.
James freezes, every muscle locked tight. “Too much?”
“No, I just—” I take a shaky breath. “I wasn't prepared for how it would feel.”
“How does it feel?” His voice is strained, like the question costs him something.
“Like you're everywhere. Like there's no room for anything else.” I meet his eyes. “Don't stop.”
Having him inside me is so fucking good, the emptiness I felt after his fingers withdrew finally filled.
But it also hurts like hell.
No, it’s not quite pain. It’s more of an uncomfortable sting, something my body wasn’t ready for. I sort of…like it.
A shiver runs through me as I try to adjust to his width.
It takes me a second to realize that my fingers are digging into James’s arms hard enough to bruise. I relax my grip slightly. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Grab me as hard as you need to.”
He shifts his weight onto one arm, then brings his thumb to his mouth.
My mind goes blank for a second when he puts it to his mouth, coating it with his saliva before he draws his hand down between our bodies.
The slick digit moves over my clit, sending a pulse of heat between my thighs.
Slowly, I feel myself relaxing around his cock.
“Good girl. That’s it.”
My breath catches. No one’s ever called me that before. Those two words, good girl, fill my chest with warmth. They make me feel cherished, admired, and cared for.
James circles his thumb around my clit again. “Can you take a little more?”
“I think so.”
I’m not sure how much more I can take. I might have to stop him after another inch, but damn it if I’m not going to try.
His cock moves deeper inside me, just a small increment. This time, I’m ready for the pain. I wince, even though it’s not so bad. In fact, it goes away quickly, replaced by pleasure—pleasure that surges higher as James carefully touches my clit.
“More,” I whisper.
He pauses. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He feeds me another half inch, giving me time to adjust. I’m not just ready for the pain now. I’m craving it. It’s like bittersweet dark chocolate, or stepping into a shower that’s just a little too hot. The edge makes the sweetness that much more satisfying.
We take our time, James giving me more of his cock inch by devastating inch, stroking my clit while I adjust before giving me a little more. His forehead is beaded with sweat from the effort of holding back.
“That's it,” he breathes. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more.”
I whimper as he pushes deeper, digging my nails into his shoulders.
“Shhh, I know. I know it's a lot.” He kisses my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, groaning as I squeeze around him. “You feel so fucking good, Maura.”
A thin sheen of sweat builds on my skin, making me feel hot and cold at the same time. I can’t remember the last time I felt this focused, this in the moment.
His thumb finds my clit, circling gently, and the sharp edge of discomfort blurs into something desperate.
When he’s halfway inside me, he stops and smiles down at me. “Fuck. Fuck, you took me so well.”
Except…I didn’t. Yes, I managed to stretch for half his length, but I can take more—I know I can. He might not expect it from other women, but I’m his wife. I want him to expect more from me.
I shake my head. “We’re not done yet.”
His brow furrows slightly. “You want me to keep going?”
I drag my hands up his arms and over his shoulders. “I want all of you, James.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” I lift my head, brushing my lips against his. “I want to.”
His mouth sets in grim determination as he pushes in a little deeper. I gasp, and his cock pulses inside me.
“Fuck, it’s hard to hold back when you make those sexy little noises,” he groans.
My heart flutters. “Really?”
“Yes.” He pushes in a little more and strokes my clit. “Your gasps and moans. They’re so fucking hot. Never hold them back. I want to hear you.”
So I don’t. I whimper and sigh as he works his way deep inside me, stretching me further than I ever knew I could take. Each tiny thrust from him is a little less controlled, and that edge of wildness makes my pussy weep even more. It’s so good, so new, so exhilarating.
“I’m almost there,” James whispers against my neck. “Can you take it?”
Even though he can’t see it, I smile through the pain. “Yes.”
He thrusts one more time, and I feel his hipbones press flush against mine.
My pulse flutters, spurred by the impossible fullness that’s so intense it makes my eyes water.
I managed to fit his whole length. I’m overwhelmed with a mix of triumph, pride, and satisfaction that makes me feel more alive than I have in years. Forget skydiving, mountain-biking, whatever adrenaline junkies do to get their fix. It can’t feel better than this.
James’s arm trembles as he holds himself up. His eyes clench shut as he tries to handle the feeling of being fully inside me.
“Fuck, Maura,” he says through gritted teeth. “No one else has ever fit me like this.”
A surge of pride rushes through me. Maybe it’s messed up, but I love knowing I’m the one who did this for him. This proud, disciplined man is unraveling for me in real time. My inner walls pulse, milking him.
He responds by rocking himself inside me, a small movement that hits a spot that’s pleasure sheathed in pain. He follows it with a sweep of his thumb over my clit that has me grinding my hips against his. My legs wrap around his waist, shifting the angle, and we both moan together.
“I don’t know how long I can hold back,” he mutters.
His entire body is trembling with the effort of restraint. I can feel it in the tension of his arms, the flex of his thighs against mine.
“I don't want to hurt you,” he grits out.
“You won't.” I cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”
“Promise?” he grits out.
“Promise. Now take what you need.”
I kiss him lightly again, giving him permission.
He buries his head against my neck and takes all that I can give him. He thrusts inside me with shallow, even strokes at first, never stopping the pressure against my clit. It swells against his touch, sending bolts of electric lightning through me.
“Eyes on me,” he commands when I squeeze them shut. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
“James—”
“That's it. Say my name.” He rolls his hips deeper, hitting something inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyes. “Let me hear how good I'm making you feel.”
Soon his hips are snapping hard against mine, every thrust deeper and harder. I can’t stop smiling as he ruts against me, fucking me deeply and properly. I love watching this measured, controlled man lose himself in my body. It makes me feel…powerful.
My muscles are exhausted from stretching for him, but that doesn’t stop raging heat from pooling around my core.
Slow contractions build inside me, my pussy clenching around James’s invading cock.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I struggle to handle the competing sensations of exhaustion, pleasure, and pain.
On top of me, James’s expression is taut.
“I’m close,” he grunts. “Can you come with me?”
“Yes. Please, fuck, yes.”
His cock pulses inside me, releasing deep inside me.
His roar of satisfaction unlocks me. My orgasm wrings me out, intense waves of pleasure crashing over me and pulling me under until all conscious thought is erased.
I’m just a body, coming down from the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
James pulls out of me and rolls over on his back. For a long moment, we lie next to each other, our legs tangled together as our heart rates come down. We don’t speak, but we don’t need to. There’s nothing more to say.
Suddenly, James sits up, swinging his feet down to the floor. He stands, his muscled back facing me.
“I should shower,” he says. His voice is neutral, clinical almost. “If we want the highest chance of this pregnancy taking, you should lie on your back for twenty more minutes.”
I almost forgot. This wasn’t a husband and wife consummating their relationship, but an attempt to fulfil the other half of our contract. The baby.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He walks into his ensuite bathroom, closing the door behind him. After a moment, I hear the shower turning on. I stare at the ceiling, processing what just happened.
I don’t feel sad or abandoned. Just…conflicted. I can’t believe how good that was, how right it felt to watch him come undone. Part of me wishes he would stay to hold me a little longer, but it’s probably better this way.
Still, as I stare at the ceiling, I can't help thinking about that boy from the gala. The one who brought me cake when I was locked in a storage room, treated like an afterthought. He didn't try to fix anything or make grand promises. He just…stayed. Kept me company. Made me feel less alone.
James left for the shower the moment he was done. It's what we agreed to. It's what makes sense.
So why does it make me feel like that little girl in the storage room again, watching someone walk away?
I need to remember that this isn’t a real marriage, no matter how much my body tries to forget it.
Because if I let myself go there—if we let ourselves go there—I’ll only end up hurting him in the end. The truth is, I can’t grow old with someone, can’t enjoy a full life of love and travel and children.
I could never give James forever.