Chapter 13 Henry
Chapter thirteen
After years of routine and relative satisfaction with a life driven by work, racing home from a late dinner meeting to tell my wife good night is not something I expected of myself. But as I throw the car into park and stride purposefully to Katarina’s room, I’m more content than I’ve been all day.
The past two weeks have been odd, for me at least. To have someone in my space and not feel an ounce of resentment has shocked me, although when I mentioned to Potts it was nice to be home and seeing more of my wife lately, she didn’t seem surprised at all.
It’s taken some effort to move things around and not have as many travel days or late meetings, but I think Katarina and I have benefited from our time together.
As I’ve gotten to know her more and more, her intelligence and maturity have astounded me.
Her daily discussions keep me on my toes, and I know if I try to speak about anything I don’t grasp fully, she has no qualms calling me out.
Yesterday, for seemingly no reason, she teased me with questions about the inner workings of electricity until I had rambled for ten minutes and finally had to say, “I don’t know, Katarina,” which seemed to delight her.
She’s someone I can consider a good friend now.
I’m certain she wants more, but I won’t be the one to make the final move.
She’s inexperienced, and this is all new to her…
There cannot be an ounce of doubt in my mind that she desires me for me, not out of obligation.
After Linda’s petty comment about grooming, I decided that no one would have a leg to stand on with accusations that I coerced my wife in any way.
If she wants me like I think she does, she has to be dripping for me.
I’ll continue my little touches and encouragements as she gains confidence to take what she wants.
Approaching her door, I smile, thinking of her curled up in her nest. My kitten loves blankets but gets hot when she sleeps, so I bought her an undersheet cooling system that allows her to have the feeling of sliding into a cool, crisp bed constantly.
At this time of night, she’s probably burrowed under a pillow, one foot sticking out…
A high-pitched whine stops me in my tracks as I reach Katarina’s door. Forgoing knocking, I try to turn the handle only to find it locked. Briefly, I consider her lying inside, injured, and despite the fact that this door is solid wood, I think I could bring it down with my shoulder.
“Ughhh, more, pleaseee.”
That doesn’t sound like a distressed noise, and I realize when I hear a faint buzzing exactly what my kitten’s up to.
She’s getting herself off. Or becoming frustrated while trying to, if her moans are anything to go by.
Not only sounds of pleasure, but adorable little growls and frustrated groans that make me think perhaps she’s not an expert in this activity.
I wonder if she’s ever made herself come at all.
“Mmm, Henry, please, please, please…”
I release the handle as if burned and step back, hitting the far side of the hallway and placing my hands on my knees.
She sounds so frustrated, and it pains me not to go in and help.
I could. God, I could burst through the door and just help her get off.
It wouldn’t take much, one, maybe two fingers inside her, touching places that her little fingers can’t reach.
Maybe a whisper of pressure on her clit, and she’d be coming apart beautifully for me.
Imagining her chest flushed with desire, mouth open on my name, violet eyes wide and teary with pleasure, I’ve decided she needs me.
My hand is back on the handle, ready to put my shoulder into this door and help my wife in a way only I can, when she shrieks and throws something at the door.
Jolting back, I hear a buzzing sound. She must have gotten so frustrated that she flung her vibrator across the room.
This was exactly the wake-up call I needed, because what am I doing? Running my hands through my hair, I take long, quick strides back to my room, fighting the urge to slam the door behind me. Locking myself in, I pull on my hair as I lean heavily against the wall.
What was I about to do? Burst into her room and pretend I’d be able to keep myself from fucking her?
Pretend I could resist her perfect little body if it were spread out for me?
She'd be mine whether she was ready or not, and who knows if she’s ready for me in that way.
My wife’s been flirting with me lately, but that isn’t consent to losing her virginity to her beast of a husband bursting into her room after missing her during his late meeting like a lovesick teenager.
I barely stop my fist before it hits the wall, shocked at my own outburst. Trying to be rational, I remind myself exactly how long it’s been since I’ve fucked anything.
Moving to the shower, I turn on the icy spray to try to deal with the hardest erection I’ve ever experienced, but I know it won’t work.
I haven’t been with another woman since I found out we were to be married.
And going from routine sex to complete celibacy is not for the faint of heart.
I always had my fist, of course. I tried hard to avoid disrespecting her by imagining her, not knowing if she felt that way about me or would only want friendship.
I tried my best to imagine the bodies of former partners, or just the most generic female form I could, but it was always her.
I’ve fantasized about this woman for a year, but never in my wildest imagination were her moans that fucking sexy.
As I turn the temperature of the spray up from the unhelpful cold, my mind is filled with images of my wife’s icy-blonde braid wrapped around my wrist as I fuck into her from behind, my thighs keeping her spread wide for me.
I imagine her tiny cunt stretching around me, the whimpers from around her gag, barely able to take me.
I’m close to coming when the scene in my mind shifts, and I feel pleasure shoot up my spine.
Instead of my usual position with my subs—tied up, doggy style underneath me…
Katarina’s in my lap, her hands are in my hair, and she’s looking into my eyes as I thrust slowly up into her, taking my time.
Her nails scratch down my back, harder as they reach lower, causing me to groan into her mouth as I kiss her.
She never stops caressing, trailing teasing touches over my abs, and the light catches on her diamond bedecked ring finger, my claim on her obvious to everyone.
My thrusts are slow but deep, wordlessly conveying my intention to make her understand that she’s mine.
Over and over and over, I drive into her as she writhes beneath me.
Her soft, breathy moans are getting louder as I bring her closer to the brink of pleasure.
“More,” she begs. “Mmm, Henry, please, please, please…”
Keeping a consistent angle, I increase my intensity.
Her breathy little moans become screams as I drive into her faster, harder, deeper.
“You asked for this.” Her tight little cunt is squeezing me like a vise.
“Come for me, Kitten,” I whisper into her ear, biting at her before pulling back to look into her eyes.
I wrap my hand around her tiny neck and squeeze, applying just enough pressure to restrict her air flow.
Her pussy flutters around me, milking my own release as she comes undone.
My fantasy fades, and I’m met with the evidence of my release painted across the shower wall. I groan, looking down at my still hard cock, obviously not getting the idea that all he’s going to get right now is my large hand and vivid imagination.
I get ready for the night, making quick work of drying off, putting on some boxers, and brushing my teeth, then turn the lights off and get in bed. I would normally read for a bit, but I arrived home later than expected, and I know if I don’t get to sleep, it’ll be hell to pay in the morning.
My room has always been a safe place for me to unwind, but looking around now, it’s both too large and too suffocating at the same time.
Closing my eyes, I’m immediately met with visions of my wife. My imagination works on overdrive, sending image after image of her, each one more erotic than the last.
I enter our room to see Katarina’s small, naked body right where I left it, tied to my bed, waiting to be used.
Passing by her, I leisurely walk to the closet to undress, taking a moment to come down from the day.
Her confines really only allow her to lie on her back, but my day was especially grueling, so I’m in need of a rougher fuck.
“On your hands and knees, wife,” I say, unlocking her chains, allowing her to adjust so I can take her from behind.
I grab the base of my cock and line myself up to her soaking cunt…
Katrina greets me at the front door, wearing only her lingerie. “Let me take care of you,” she says, sinking to her knees. She makes quick work of my belt and unfastens my pants, then pulls my briefs down, allowing my cock to spring free before wrapping her hot little mouth around the head…
Looking up at the clock, I see thirty minutes have passed. I really need to go to sleep now. “For the love of everything, stop thinking about your wife,” I tell myself, closing my eyes again and trying to force thoughts of what my day will look like tomorrow.
I’m at my desk, sorting through paper after paper of the quarterly financials.
Something isn’t adding up, but I can’t figure it out.
Katarina walks into my office with a brilliant smile on her face.
“Can I help you with anything?” She skips over and drops down on my lap, flipping through the expense report.
“Here!” she says, almost immediately finding the error.
“God, you’re incredible,” I lift her out of my lap and onto my desk, her knee-length skirt teasing me as it rides up her thighs.
Goose bumps pebble on her legs as I slowly trace my hand higher and higher up her thigh, stopping only when I’m met with soaked lace.
I pull down her panties and pocket them before dipping my head under her skirt to get a look at her perfect pink pussy.
She’s leaking, and I’ve never wanted to taste anything more.
I move closer, my face flush to her core, and lick from her opening to her clit, reveling in the way her entire body shakes.
I’m propped up on my elbows, looking down at Katarina, my cock still buried to the hilt in her perfect cunt, our bodies slick from perspiration after hours of exertion.
She lifts her hand and pushes back the wet hair that’s fallen in my face.
“I love you, Henry.” I close my mouth around hers, kissing her.
My tongue moves with hers in the same rhythm as my languid thrusts…
“I love you, too, Kitten.”
Opening my eyes again, I see that another thirty minutes have passed, and I’m no closer to falling asleep.
If anything, I’m more wound up than I was before I got in the shower.
All I can think about is the woman at the end of the hall.
I’ve tried my best to give her time and space.
I’ve tried being a gentleman. But fuck do I want her.
I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
She’s my goddamn wife, for fuck’s sake. The irony that I both have her and don’t have her at all doesn’t escape me.
“Fuck!” I yell, throwing the bedside clock at the wall, the crash loudly echoing through the room.
Dammit. Pull yourself together, Henry.
I’m pacing back and forth in my room, working through my breathing exercises, when I hear a knock on my door and Katarina’s quiet voice.
“Henry?”
Freezing, I hold my breath to avoid making even the smallest of sounds.
“Henry, are you okay?”
I remain still, hoping that if I just remain silent, she’ll go away.
I think I’ve successfully avoided her until the door handle turns. “I’m fine, Katarina.” It kills me to speak to her with a harsh tone, but I need her to leave. Having her in my room is something I cannot deal with right now.
The handle stops moving. “Are you sure?”
No, no, I’m not sure. What I want is for you to open that door, run to my bed, and throw yourself on top of me. What I’d really like is to fuck you into the mattress until dawn and then snuggle up against each other and sleep in.
“Yes, go back to bed.”
“Good night, Henry.” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper now.
“Good night.” Kitten.
As I hear the echo of her steps down the hall, I’m flooded with shame.
My sweet girl came to check on me after I threw a tantrum like a child.
I have to do something about this. It’s clear my need for her isn’t going away, but I refuse to push her into something she doesn’t want.
Her friendship is more valuable than any other I’ve had, and I won’t lose that because I can’t keep my dick in check.
As much as I want to storm into her room and impale her, it has to be her.
She has to be the one to initiate the change in our dynamic.
I know she’s attracted to me. I see the result of her desire every time her skin pebbles when we touch or when her pupils dilate as I’m staring into her eyes.
I see it when a whispered tease causes her pulse to rise, and when she bites her bottom lip when she talks to me.
Maybe she just doesn't know that her feelings are reciprocated. Tenfold. Perhaps I’m the one who hasn’t been clear with their intentions.
Maybe I just need to ramp up my seduction.
With a clear plan of action, I’m finally able to unwind. Holding a pillow, I drift to sleep, knowing that soon it will be my beautiful wife in my arms instead.