5. Safe Days
Safe Days
Markus sat on the familiar sofa. His body still felt heavy and exhausted from the long trip, but every nerve in him was taut with anticipation.
The months in which work, debt, and the distance that had grown between them as husband and wife had weighed on him made his desire flare far more violently than he would have expected.
The sound of running water in the bathroom had just stopped. The apartment fell completely silent again. Only the diffuser hummed softly, spreading a delicate lavender scent through the rooms.
Click.
The bathroom door opened a crack.
Nadja stepped out.
Markus froze. His breath caught in his throat.
She looked flawlessly clean, freshly showered, her brown hair still slightly damp as it fell over her bare shoulders.
The sweet scent of her shower gel had replaced the smell of tobacco and sour sweat he had briefly noticed on her earlier.
She wore the pristine white lace lingerie he had just given her.
The low-cut bra cupped her full breasts.
Slender ties ran around her waist and hips, down to the white stockings with their wide lace bands.
The tiny panties left little to the imagination.
In the soft light of the living room, she looked like the pure bride from their wedding night and, at the same time, so breathtakingly provocative that he almost felt dizzy. His chest tightened.
His bride. The woman he loved with all his heart.
But Nadja didn’t come straight to him. On the way, she first crossed to the window and drew the thin curtain, shutting out the last pale morning light. Then she stepped over to the light switch.
Click.
Several lamps went dark. The living room sank into muted shadow.
Only a faint yellow glow spilled in from the kitchen, along with the small floor lamp beside the sofa.
The dark glass tabletop reflected a blurred image of her body in the white lingerie.
The bouquet of roses on it was now nothing more than a deep red stain in the shadows.
Markus was surprised for a moment.
“Why are you turning off the lights?”
Nadja turned her head toward him. Her lips formed a gentle smile.
“It’s nicer this way.”
Markus nodded slowly.
Their wedding night surfaced again in his mind. In this dim light, his wife looked even more seductive. Her skin seemed softer, her curves more fluid, the white lace even more enticing.
She walked slowly toward him.
Markus drank in every tiny detail. A damp strand of hair clinging to her collarbone.
Her breasts pushed high in the white lace.
Her hard nipples visible beneath the whisper-thin fabric.
Her narrow waist, the fine ties resting loosely on her hips.
Her legs in the white lace stockings made her look so innocent and yet, in some wicked way, so dangerous that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The wedding photograph from the bedroom flickered through his memory.
Their wedding night. Nadja’s dress sliding gently from her shoulders. The unshakable certainty he had felt then that this woman belonged only to him and that no other man would ever have the right to touch her that way.
And now, after all the months of debt, numbing exhaustion, and bitter defeats, she was still coming to him.
To Markus, it was far more than physical desire. It was the ultimate proof that he had not lost Nadja.
Nadja stopped directly in front of him. She reached out, grabbed his tie, and gave it a firm pull. Markus was drawn forward to the edge of the sofa.
The unfamiliar assertiveness surprised him. But in the next instant, raw desire erased every other thought.
She stood between his spread knees and bent slightly toward him, presenting the white lingerie directly in front of his eyes in the dim light.
The thin fabric stretched tightly over her breasts, pushing them upward and exposing the soft, pale cleft of her cleavage.
The skimpy panties sat low on her hips, emphasizing the heavy curves of her ass and thighs and making his wife’s body look both familiar and thrillingly strange.
As though she had deliberately transformed herself into a sinful fantasy he had no choice but to desire.
Her hands slid around the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
Heat shot through Markus’s lower belly.
Nadja bent down and sealed his mouth with a deep, hurried kiss. Her lips were soft, wet, and warm. She didn’t kiss him with her usual gentleness and restraint. She pressed her mouth against his with demanding urgency, parted her lips, and immediately let her tongue seek his.
Markus groaned softly into her mouth.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her tightly against him until her lower belly pressed against his chest.
The kiss quickly turned wild and messy. Soft, wet sounds filled the quiet room whenever their mouths separated for a moment only to merge again immediately.
Nadja tilted her head and kissed him deeper, her tongue playing around his, slowly at first, then more insistently, as though she wanted him to taste the naked impatience in her mouth.
Her breath brushed warm and damp across his face.
Markus kissed her back at once. Hungrily. He sucked her lower lip, bit it gently, then pushed his tongue back into her mouth as though afraid she might disappear the instant he let her go.
His hands slid down to Nadja’s hips. Through the thin lace, he could feel the heat of her skin beneath his palms.
She didn’t pull away. Quite the opposite.
She arched a little more, pressed her breasts closer to his face, let him breathe in the warmth of her skin—the faint scent of her perfume and the familiar, warm feminine smell of his wife.
After the intense kiss, Nadja gently pushed him back. Her lips glistened wetly and were slightly swollen from his rough kiss.
She smiled and slowly sank to her knees in front of him.
The sight of his wife in white lingerie, kneeling between his legs, nearly stole Markus’s breath.
From this angle, Nadja’s body looked even more vulnerable and exposed. Her full breasts swelled behind the white lace and rose with every breath. Her waist was narrow, opening below into soft, broad, impossibly feminine hips that sent a hot pull through his belly.
Her pale thighs rested taut against the carpet, and her eyes looked up at him from below—obedient and dangerous at once.
Her hands moved to his belt buckle. Slowly, her delicate fingers traced the leather, the button of his pants, the zipper.
Markus was so hard it hurt.
Nadja looked down, her lips parting slightly as though the sight alone satisfied something deep inside her.
The air in the room seemed to thicken all at once.
Markus watched his wife kneeling between his legs, wrapped in white lingerie that almost seemed to glow in the weak light. Her breasts full behind the thin lace, her hips resting on her heels, her pale thighs pressed into the carpet.
That desirable body was right in front of him, beneath him, so close that all he had to do was lean down to feel her warm skin.
Nadja placed her hand against his waistband.
The faint clink of the metal buckle sounded loud in the room. She pulled the leather strap free, unbuttoned his pants, and slowly lowered the zipper.
Markus swallowed hard.
He was rock-hard, tightly confined by the fabric, and when her soft hand slipped inside and closed firmly around him, his entire body jerked.
Nadja pulled his cock free.
It sprang from his pants—hard, throbbing warm, standing upright in her hand. Not brutally large or overwhelming, but rigid with blind desire for her, twitching faintly in her palm, the head already wet.
Markus looked down at himself.
At his wife’s slender white fingers closing around him. At her polished nails slowly tracing the taut skin.
The sight alone made his lower belly clench. Nadja stared down in silence too. She faltered. Only for a fraction of a second.
Her fingers went still around his hard shaft. Her eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, as though another, more massive image had flashed through her mind.
A silent, filthy comparison. So fast it almost didn’t exist. But Markus suspected absolutely nothing.
All he saw was his flawless wife kneeling between his legs, his cock in her hand, her lips slightly parted, her breath warm against his skin.
Nadja blinked. Then she gave the faintest smile. The next moment, she bent down.
Her wet lips first touched the sensitive tip carefully.
Markus sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
Nadja didn’t immediately take him fully into her mouth. Instead, she slowly ran her wet tongue around the head as though savoring him reverently. The tip of her tongue brushed gently across the slit and collected the warm, salty drop that had gathered there.
Markus tensed from head to toe. Then she opened her mouth wider.
Her soft lips slid down and closed tightly around him. The wet heat of her mouth wrapped around his cock, tight and sucking, and a rough groan escaped Markus.
Nadja sucked him slowly, moving her lips up and down in short, even strokes and circling her tongue around the tip each time she pulled back. Saliva made his taut skin gleam wetly in the dim light.
Markus instinctively placed one hand on her head.
His fingers slid deep into Nadja’s soft hair, but he didn’t dare push her down. He only held her gently and trembled as he watched his wife look up at him from below while her mouth remained hungrily sealed around his cock.
Nadja took him deeper.
She lowered her head inch by inch, letting him slide farther into her wet mouth. Her cheeks hollowed slightly. Her lips gripped his hardness mercilessly tight.
The wet sucking was quiet, but in the silent room it was crystal clear—so indecent and filthy that Markus nearly lost control on the spot.
Every time she pulled back, a shining thread of saliva stretched between her lips and his skin.
Every time she took him deep again, her throat moved slightly and sent a hot shiver from his lower belly all the way up his neck.
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.