I got out of bed and checked on Maisie, who was sleeping in her bed. I returned to Dylan’s bedroom and entered the bathroom, all steamed up from his shower.
“Dylan?”
He slid open the door. “Yeah? Everything all right?”
Water sluiced over his hard muscles, making my mouth water.
“Yes.” I took my nightgown off, watching his eyes darken as his gaze settled on my breasts. “I was thinking about your morning routine.”
“I wasn’t doing that this morning.”
“Why would you when I’m here to do it for you?” I stepped into the shower and sank to my knees to worship his dick, already hard and long.
“You’re a fucking fantasy,” he growled as his fingers thread through my hair and his hips gently pumped as I sucked him. I loved the scent that emanated from him when he was aroused. The feel of his dick, soft skin over hard steel, as it slid along my tongue.
“Ah, fuck … Tessa.” He gripped my arms and pulled me up.
“You’re not done,” I protested. Had Maisie come in? Did I lock the door?
He pressed me against the tile, his fingers sliding to my pussy as he sucked on my nipple, making me cry out as pleasure shot through me.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he said when he released my breast. “Hold on.”
I gripped his shoulders as he lifted my legs around his thighs and thrust his hard length inside me.
“Oh God, Dylan.” He felt so good filling me.
“You like that? You like it when I fuck you?”
“Yes … so much.”
Unlike most of the times he’d had sex with me during our short honeymoon, this time he moved hard, fast, furious. His hips bucked, his dick slamming inside me, sending me racing to the edge of oblivion.
“Come on me, Tessa,” he grunted. “Fuck … I’m coming …”
He thrust hard and held, hitting a spot inside me I’d thought was a myth until he sent me soaring into an intense, hard orgasm that stole my breath.
“Oh Christ …that’s it …” he said, grinding against me, and then withdrawing and thrusting again. “Your pussy is so tight … you make me come so hard … I’m filling you with my cum …” He was rambling sexy dirty words that heightened my pleasure.
I was a boneless mess when we finished. Luckily, he held me up until I could get my bearings straight.
“You all right?” he asked.
“I think that’s the best way to start a day.”
He laughed. “It’s better than beating off with my hand, for sure.”
From that moment on, we settled into life. It was easy to love Maisie and Dylan. Our days weren’t so different from before, except that I woke in his bed and could now touch him. It felt perfect. It felt like a real marriage.
But I was smart enough not to believe that it was destined to last. We were married to help him keep Maisie. We were two people who were attracted to each other, and while I knew I loved him, I also knew he didn’t love me. He cared for me, but he’d never let himself love me. In fact, he’d probably be angry if he knew just how much I felt for him. So I went through life acting as his wife, while living as friends with benefits. For now, it would be enough, or so I kept telling myself.
I cared for Maisie during the day as usual. We went on outings, did activities, and played. When Dylan came home from work, we ate dinner and spent time as a family. The only thing I didn’t participate in was Dylan’s nightly routine of putting Maisie to bed. That was their time, and I respected their need to connect.
Maisie had regular weekend visits with Veronica. Each time, Dylan was agitated. He wanted to stop all visits all together because he couldn’t help the feeling that Veronica might take her.
“But it will look spiteful and bad at court if I stop visits, even though it’s within my rights to do so,” he’d said one night as we sat on the couch after Maisie had left with Veronica. “And Maisie seems to be enjoying her time. I can’t take that away from her.”
“You’re a good dad, Dylan.”