“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for me with his hand. “But you should have seen your face.”
“It’s not funny.”
“Baby, you wouldn’t believe how f**king funny it was.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist, dragging me up and onto him. “Come here. Aw, the tips of your ears are all pink.”
“No they’re not,” I mumbled, lying across his chest.
He stroked my back, still sniggering. “Don’t let this scar you for life though, hey? I like you touching me.”
I huffed noncommittally.
“You know, if you play with my dick things will always happen. I guarantee it.”
“I know that.” The crook of his neck was handy for burying my hot face in, so I took full advantage. “I just got a surprise.”
“You sure did.” He squeezed me tight then slid a hand down to cup my bottom. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“A little sore,” I admitted. “A lot happy. Though that was before you callously mocked me.”
“Poor baby. Let me see,” he said, rolling me over onto the mattress until he was on top.
“What?”
He sat up between my legs with a hand holding my knees open. With a practiced eye he checked me over. “You don’t look too swollen. Probably just a bit sore inside, yeah?”
“Probably.” I tried to pull my legs up, to close them. Because I heartily doubted having him look at me there in that way helped the color of my ear tips.
“I have to be more careful with you.”
“I’m fine. Not that breakable, honestly.”
“Mm.”
“Takes more than a round of rough sex on the hardwood floor to worry me.”
“That so? Stay still for me,” he said, shuffling back to lie down at the end of the mattress.
This situated him distinctly between my legs, face to face with my girl bits, guaranteeing I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I’d heard good things about this, things that made my embarrassment levels redundant. Plus, I was curious.
He brushed his lips against my sex, the warmth of his breath making me shiver. My stomach muscles spasmed in anticipation.
His gaze met mine over the top of my torso. “Okay?”
I gave him a jerky nod, impatient.
“Put the other pillow behind your head too,” he instructed. “I want you to be able to watch.”
My husband had the best ideas. I did as asked, settling in to watch though my legs were aquiver. He kissed the inside of my thighs, first one, then the other. Everything in me focused on the sensations emanating from there. My world was a small perfect place. Nothing existed outside our bed.
His eyes closed but mine stayed open. He kissed his way over the lips of my sex and then traced the divide with the tip of his tongue. That worked. Warmth suffused me inside. Hands wrapped around the underneath of my thighs, fingers rubbing small circles into my skin. His lips never left my sex. It was exactly as if he was kissing me there. Mouth open wide and tongue stroking, making me writhe. The grip on my thighs tightened, holding me to him. Even the brush of his hair and the prickle of his stubble against me were thrilling things. I don’t know when I stopped watching. My eyes shut of their own accord as the pleasure took over. It was amazing. I didn’t want it to end. But the pressure inside me built until I couldn’t contain it any longer. I came with a shout, my body drawn tight from top to toe. Every part of me tingled. He didn’t pull back until I lay perfectly still, concentrating on just breathing.
“Am I forgiven for laughing at you?” he asked, crawling up the bed to plant a kiss on my shoulder.
“Sure.”
“How about the rough sex on the hardwood floor? Am I forgiven for that too?”
“Mmhmm.”
The mattress shifted beneath me as he hovered above. His wet mouth lingered over the curve of my breast, the line of my collarbone.
“I really liked that,” I said, my voice low and lazy. Gradually I opened my eyes.
“Fuck-drunk suits you, Evelyn.” A hand smoothed over my hip and he smiled down at me. “I’ll eat you out whenever you like. You only have to ask.”
I smiled back at him. And the smile may have twitched a little at the edges. Talking about this kind of thing was still new to me.
“Tell me you liked me licking your gorgeous pu**y.”
“I said I liked it.”
“You’re embarrassed.” David’s brows drew together. There was mischief in his eyes. “You can talk rough sex on hardwood floors but not cunnilingus, hey? Say ‘pussy’.”
I rolled my eyes. “Pussy.”
“Again. Not as in ‘cat’.”
“I’m not saying it as in ‘cat’. Pussy. Pussy, pu**y, pu**y. Pussy not as in ‘cat’. Happy?” I laughed, moving a hand to slide down his chest, heading for his groin. “Can I do something for you now?”
He stopped my hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “I’m going to wait till tonight when we can make love again, if you’re feeling okay.”
“We’re making love tonight, Mr Smooth?”
“Sure.” He smirked, climbing off the bed. “We’ll make love again and then we’ll f**k again. I think we should put some serious time into exploring the differences. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” I quickly agreed. I wasn’t stupid.
“That’s my girl.” He held a hand out for me, eyes intent. “You are so damn pretty. You know, I’m never going to be able to wait until tonight.”
“No?”
“Nope. Look at you lying all na**d on my bed. I’ve never seen anything I’ve liked more.” He shook his head, mouth rueful as his eyes travelled over my body. My husband was incredibly good for my ego. But he made me feel humble at the same time, grateful. “I was a f**king idiot to suggest waiting,” he said, taking a step back and crooking his finger at me. “And you know how I hate being away from you. Come help me in the shower? It’ll give you some good hands-on experience.”
I crawled off the bed after him. “That so?”
“Oh, yeah. And you know how seriously I take you and your education.”
*
“You suck,” said Lauren, her voice echoing down the line. Pam had warned me some parts of the coast could be iffy with cell coverage.
“I’m not saying I don’t still love you,” she said. “But, you know …”