“You were gone all day.” I say instead, my voice low.
He sighs tiredly, “Sophie, maybe in your imagination being married means spending every single moment together, but real life isn’t a fantasy, I have a business to run.” His voice is harsh, and I flinch, unable to hide my pain and surprise.
“I was just...” I stop, unsure what to say.
He turns to look at me. Something in my face seems to get to him. “I had a hard day Sophie, I was incredibly busy.” He explains, before getting up and going to the bathroom.
I frown at my hands on my lap. I’ve told him that I loved him, and he said nothing. I’m telling him I’d like to spent more time with him, and his response is to treat me as if I don’t know what I’m talking about. Hurt, I lie back on the bed and turn on my stomach. I hate that I feel like crying. I’ve lied to Stacey, I realize, I’m not happy. I’m afraid. I have a husband who can set my body on fire with just one look, and who is everything to me, but has no desire to be close to me, or to let me get close to him.
I feel him return and slide into the bed beside me, but I don’t look up. I try not to react to the warmth of his skin as it touches mine. I try to stay still as he runs a hand gently down my back. When he raises the thigh length t-shirt I’m wearing and spreads my legs, I bite my lip to keep from moaning. The thought that this is all he wants from me is painful. I want to be angry with him, not to respond to what he’s doing, but already I’m eager, wanting him so much that it’s an intense throbbing ache that needs to be filled.
My resistance lasts until he dips his head between my legs, and starts to lick me, his tongue moving rapidly, swirling round and round my sensitive core until I am breathless and gasping, moaning his name. At the back of my mind, I accept that I need more than this from him, but for now, I don’t care. I’m too lost in the pleasure.
I let out a long moan, and he grips my thighs tightly so that I can’t move. My fingers dig into the pillow. Imprisoned between his hands and his tongue, I surrender myself to the exquisite pleasure. He teases me to a frenzy until I reach a shattering climax, crying out my pleasure as my hips jerk wildly against his delicious tongue.
Afterwards, while my body is still shuddering with the aftershocks of my climax, I run my fingers down his chest. He lies back on the bed, watching me through half closed eyes as I explore his body. I watch his face, eager to see the signs that I’m pleasing him.
My fingers travel down over his belly, until they close around him. I marvel at the hardness encased in the soft skin, like steel under silk. He feels warm, strong and powerful, I stroke him with eager fingers, loving the feeling. His breathing changes, becoming faster and more ragged, encouraged, I bend my head and take him into my mouth.
He groans, and his hips move, grinding a little. Instinctively, I take him deeper, running my tongue over his swollen tip, and then allowing him to slide further inside my mouth. He tastes of skin, of salt, and a flavor that is all him. I steal a look at his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted. He likes it. I purse my lips and suck on him, moving my head, so he goes slowly in and out of my mouth.
“Sophie.” His groan is deep and raspy, the pleasure in his voice makes me feel powerful and sexy... all woman. I suck harder, feeling him grow harder in my mouth as his hands run feverishly through my hair, but I don’t stop. In every other way, I already feel powerless, but in this, I want to see him lose control of himself.
He doesn’t give me the chance. He rises from the bed, moving faster than I could have anticipated, and lifts me, pulling me forward until my hips are poised over his erection. Then, with his hands on my waist, he guides me down slowly until I’m completely filled with him. I moan at the exquisite sensation of him inside me. My whole body is tingling. I forget everything but what he’s doing to me. I want this, I want this so much.
Even though I am on top, he defines our movements, guiding my hips as he grinds his, stroking my sensitive insides with each deep thrust.
My body starts to shake. I’m moaning incoherently, crying out his name over and over. He quickens his pace, thrusting faster, until his body stiffens, and he groans, exploding into me in a warm surge. At the same moment, I shout his name one final time, and then collapse onto his chest.
Chapter Four
THE NEXT MORNING, WHEN I WAKE up to find myself alone on the bed, my first thought is that David has left for work again. I feel a little depressed until I hear him in the dressing room. It’s embarrassing how relieved I am when I see him standing there almost fully dressed, putting on his cufflinks. I lean on the doorframe, watching him as he concentrates on fastening the links.
“Good morning.” I say softly, my heart constricting with longing as I look at him. Watching him makes me feel happy and sad at the same time, happy that he’s mine, and sad because, somehow, I know he doesn’t truly belong to me.
He looks up at me, “Good morning Sophie.” He says, finishing with the links. There’s a tie hanging loosely around his neck, and his fingers move to knot it.
I don’t want to rehash our conversation of last night, but I don’t want to spend the whole day missing him either. “I wish you wouldn’t leave so early,” I say.
He walks away from me, towards the mirror. In the face of his silence, I start to wish I hadn’t said anything. I watch as he starts to knot his tie.
“I know you’re really busy...” I start.
He turns to me. The expression on his face is one of sincere apology. “I’m sorry Sophie,” he says, “Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ve had to deal with certain issues at work which were there even before I met you.” He stops, “but that’s no excuse.”
I walk across the room to him, “I understand, really. I’m not complaining, I just wish we had a little more time for us.” I look at his face as I say the word, ‘Us’. That’s what’s important to me. I want us to be a success. I want this to last. I don’t want to be a short statistic in his life. The thought of not being with him fills me with a sad sort of desperation.
He raises one of his hands, tracing a finger across my lips. “Things will clear up soon,” he assures me, “and then I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll go somewhere that will blow your mind.”
I smile, excited as much by his promise as his touch. “You blow my mind.” I whisper.
He smiles and moves his finger
from my lips to my chin, lifting it up, so I’m looking into his eyes. My lips tingle, waiting for his kiss, but he doesn’t make any move to touch me.
I lift myself unto my toes and touch my lips to his. He kisses me back, his brow furrowing in surprise when I gently push him away, running my hands down the front of his shirt. He watches me as my hands move down. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I want to show him how much I want him. I want to finish what I started last night.
I drop to my knees on the soft carpet in front of him, stroking him through his trousers, and feeling him harden and push against my palm. I loosen his belt and undo his zipper, reaching in to pull down his briefs just enough for him to spring free, hard, rigid, and eager.