Chapter 15
Jane
“Y our bedroom or mine?” Evan asks at the top of the stairs.
“Yours.” I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to do it in my bed.
He takes my hand and leads me into his room.
I can’t believe it. I’m going to have sex with my husband.
This was certainly not what I had in mind when I woke up this morning, nor when I went downstairs after my shower and found Watson wearing the exact same outfit as yesterday. No, I feared I’d fucked up, and I was determined to put it all behind me and never speak of it.
But I couldn’t.
Seriously, how do people stand it? The man I want lives with me, and it’s hard to ignore, and eventually, I decided I couldn’t keep it up, not when he’s clearly willing.
I can’t think about what this all means and how it will change our relationship; I can’t think at all when he removes his glasses and pulls his shirt over his head. I run my hands over his lean chest, and he drops his head and kisses me again. I release a groan that doesn’t sound at all like me. It just feels so damn good.
He keeps kissing me as he sits down on the bed, me in his lap. He keeps kissing me as he pins me beneath him. I’ve been in his bedroom before, but never in his bed; it feels like a whole different world here.
When he slips his fingers into my shorts, I stiffen, but I immediately cover his hand with mine—I don’t want him to pull back.
“I haven’t had sex in over nine years,” I say. “I’m a little out of practice.”
“We can do whatever you like. I do have condoms, if you—”
“Have you been with anyone since we got married?” The words come out in a rush. Suddenly, it’s imperative I know.
“No.”
He shifts his hand lower, under my panties, and brushes a finger over my pussy. I moan. Then he withdraws, but it’s only to remove the rest of my clothing; his hands are back between my legs a moment later.
Despite my desperation, being exposed makes me feel a bit nervous. It’s been years since anyone saw me like this, and sex has always been complicated for me.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his lips next to my ear. “You’re gorgeous.” He shifts down my body and licks my clit, oh-so-gently, but it’s enough to nearly make me shoot off the bed.
He lifts his head and smiles. While the sight of Evan smiling isn’t unfamiliar, this particular smile is different from anything I’ve seen before.
It has an edge of wickedness.
He dips his head again and licks near my clit without touching it directly. I don’t recall being so sensitive before—is it because I haven’t been with anyone in such a long time?
But before I can ponder that further, he slips one finger inside me and continues to lick me. I lose my ability to think straight as I grip the sheets and press myself against his face. One of his hands trails upward to my breasts, and he lazily pinches my nipple. It’s overwhelming.
“Evan, can you…”
I don’t even know what I’m asking for, but somehow, he knows. His tongue moves over my clit just right, and I come against him, a stream of nonsense escaping my mouth.
He crawls up my body and smiles down at me, my moisture clinging to his lips. I want to make him feel good, too, but as I reach for the waistband of his shorts and the high of the orgasm starts to fade, I feel a prickle of unease.
What if it’s uncomfortable for me? It’s been a long time, after all. Even if we don’t have penetrative sex, I have a sensitive gag reflex, and I also remember getting a stiff jaw from blowjobs in the past.
Fortunately, from what I’ve been able to feel so far, he’s not as big as my ex.
He rises up on his knees, and I pull his shorts and briefs down together. As I toss them off the bed, I examine his semi-hard cock.
Perfect.
He’s slightly smaller than average—I believe—and this seems totally manageable. When I grin up at him, he dips his head to claim my mouth again. I stroke him as we kiss. His kisses become sloppier and inelegant, which is immensely satisfying. It appears I sort of know what I’m doing after all.
I lower my head, holding his gaze as I take his cock into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the tip. He hisses out a breath and sinks his hand into my hair. When he pulls, it stings a little, and I shake my head.
“Sorry,” he says, lightening his touch.
“That’s okay,” I mumble, but he probably can’t tell what I’m saying because I’ve still got him in my mouth. He’s fully erect now, and it’s the thought that I’m bringing him pleasure, more than anything else, that spurs me on.
But I’m starting to feel a strange emptiness between my legs, and eventually, I lift my head. “Where are those condoms?”
He removes a box from his bedside table, along with some lube. I can see that he’s got some sex toys as well, but I don’t get a good look before he closes the drawer and starts to roll on the condom. I settle onto my back, my pulse beating rapidly. Once he’s sheathed himself, he bends down to kiss me, and I buck my hips against him, my breath shuddering as my pussy makes contact with the underside of his cock.
He slides his hand between our bodies and notches himself at my entrance, pushing inside slowly while keeping his gaze on my face.
“Okay?” he asks.
I nod enthusiastically.
He moves inside me with languid rolls of his hips. I bend my knees so he goes a little deeper, and I hold him tightly against me. I love being so close to him. The thought that he’s inside me…it’s enough to make my inner muscles squeeze, and he releases a guttural sound. He lifts his head, his hand fondly stroking my cheek.
I roll us over so I’m on top. The movement isn’t as smooth as I’d like, but it gets the job done. It’s okay that I’m not some sex goddess; he just wants to be with me .
I press sloppy kisses up and down his neck, and when he jerks his hips suddenly, I accidentally bite him.
“Shit!” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He rubs my back. “I like it.”
I still. “What, exactly, do you like?”
“Not a lot of pain, but…the edge of it.”
I shift my mouth to his nipple. He groans and shoves a hand through his hair. My hand joins his, and I tug lightly as I start to thrust my hips again. We move in unison, our pace increasing. I can tell he’s getting close, and I’m desperate for it. Desperate to make him feel as good as I can.
“I… ahhh .” He holds me tightly as he comes inside me, and I bask in his pleasure.
After Evan disposes of the condom, I use the washroom. Then I return to his bed and slide on my underwear. He’s put on his briefs but nothing else.
“Hey.” He has another look on his face that I’ve never seen before. I suppose it’s a content I-just-had-an-orgasm look, and I love that I’m responsible for it.
He pulls me against him, and we snuggle in silence for a few minutes. While cuddling is nothing new for us, cuddling while we’re in bed and mostly naked—after having sex—is certainly different.
I had sex with my husband.
What does this mean? Where do we go from here?
I have lots of questions, but they don’t seem pressing at the moment. I roll Evan onto his side so I’m behind him and he’s the little spoon.
“Do you want me to sleep here?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “Unless you want—”
“I want to stay.”
I can’t see it, but I know he’s smiling.