by Annie Dyer
He pulled me up closer, onto his lap, his cock pressed against my stomach, and angled us so he could take a nipple in his mouth, feasting on it, his hand slipping down to my clit, where he started to rub, gentle flicks of his fingers that had me coming hard and slow. He cupped my centre while my body calmed down, his gaze now on my face.
“I can wait. I don’t want to make you sore.” He shook his head. “Being honest, I really want you to be okay so I can fuck you before we go down for breakfast, because I want you sat there in front of everyone knowing that you’re full of my come.”
“Jesus.”
“I know, I’m not really a caring person.” He flipped me on my back, gently sucking one nipple and then the other. “Everything’s self-motivated.”
I spread my legs, hooking one around his waist. We’d be having sex now and in the morning, there was no question. I might just need a bath before leaving for the airport.
“I’ll go slow. And I won’t last very long, if that helps. Not something I’d usually brag about, but it might help.”
I started laughing, Noah stopping me with another kiss. “You’ll give me a complex. Don’t laugh.”
I didn’t, I groaned as he entered me, not pausing this time, just taking it slow. I knew he wouldn’t come until I had, and the way he’d angled me meant he was hitting that spot that made my toes curl.
“You feel so fucking tight, Imogen. I think I might cancel the honeymoon and just keep you locked in here. I could spend a day playing with your tits for a start.”
I nodded, unable to speak right now. He slowed his pace further, going a little deeper, and then came with my name on his lips.
We didn’t let go. He sank on the mattress next to me, our arms and legs tangled up in each other, my breasts pressed against his chest, and we kissed, gently, softly. Maybe this was what married sex was like for everyone. Or maybe it was just Noah.
I cleaned up, tidied a bit of the room whilst walking around. Noah got up and made me a cup of tea, a very English thing to do.
When I fell asleep, it was in his arms, his hard body behind mine. And when I woke, it was to him kissing my neck.
Like he said, he wanted morning sex. I was happy to oblige.
We were late for breakfast. This wasn’t an issue as such, as our flight wasn’t until seven in the evening, and it was only an hour’s drive to the airport, but it did mean that we received a standing ovation when we walked into the dining room, pretty much all my family and Noah’s already partway through their full Scottish breakfasts.
My sisters started the whistles, Noah’s brothers added the inappropriate comments, and Seph whistled loud enough to make a dog bark from somewhere.
“What’s made you late, Immy?” Catrin gave me a grin that only made mine wider, although I couldn’t look anyone in the eye.
We’d gone to bed early – certainly way before most of the people here who would’ve been up until the wee hours – and we were down late. There was no excuse, and I had to accept that everyone would’ve guessed rightly what we’d been doing.
I just needed a cushion to sit on.
Coffee and tea were brought to the table where we were seated, alongside Gus and Vivi, Robbie and Connor, and Lainey and Jake.
I saw Lainey whack Jake’s arm with a napkin, and whisper something in his ear that made him grin, then pull her in for a kiss that was plain dirt.
“How was the start to married life?” Gus looked as if he had a long list of comments he was about to reel off.
Noah poured me a coffee. “Perfect, until I saw your face. Make one comment that embarrasses my wife, and I tell Vivi all about the time when you were panicking because you hadn’t had an erection for four days and you thought your dick was broken.”
Vivi smiled sweetly. “Was that last week, Angus?”
Gus took a long, loud sigh and shook his head, then looked at me.
“Let it be known that you encouraged this,” I said to Noah, who just shrugged.
“It was going to happen anyway. I just thought I’d draw blood first.” His leg knocked against mine under the table and I couldn’t help but smile. He’d been perfect.
If this didn’t work out, and at some point I remarried, that man would have an impossible act to follow, and if another woman had Noah as a husband – I didn’t want to even think about that.
Gus looked across his brother to me. “Did Noah read the instruction manual first? I tried to get him to watch some videos so he could understand what tab fits in which slot. He did get the right ho…”
Vivi’s hand clamped over her husband’s mouth. “And stop there, because it won’t matter if you’re dick’s broken or not, because you won’t be using it anymore.”
Gus just started laughing.
“Tell me about the time when Angus couldn’t get an erection.” Vivi stuck a fork in the sausage on her plate and bit a large piece off, making Gus wince dramatically.
Noah folded his arms and sat back. “Well, he was seventeen, and…”
“Oh fuck, I remember this!” Robbie leaned in. “He came to me to ask what I thought might be wrong, then made me look to see if I could see anything the matter. Not a highlight of my life, brother.”
Unfortunately, for all concerned, Claire overheard the conversation. Thankfully, her two eldest children, plus Georgia’s Rose, were in the swimming pool with Marie and my mother – we’d seen them as we’d walked past.
“Imogen, did you hear all the stories about Maxwell’s first time…”
Claire was interrupted by Maxwell standing up at her table, throwing his napkin down and shouting “No, no, no!” at which everyone started to laugh, most people already knowing this story because Claire pretty much told everyone she’d met.
That was when breakfast descended into the stuff of legend, too many overshares being blurted out that we probably didn’t want to know, and many thanks to whichever god was on duty that it was just our families in that room.
The attention was taken right from us, which was just the way both of us wanted right then, because for all intents and purposes, there wasn’t anyone else we needed in our world right then.
I was checking what I’d packed to take on our honeymoon when I heard a knock at the door, with a comment that I couldn’t make out, and giggling. The giggling I recognised, which was why I debated not opening the door and pretending I wasn’t there, but if I didn’t let them in and give some sort of breakdown of the night before, my phone would be blown up with questions and threats.
Georgia and Vic stood there like two naughty school children, Georgia’s ear actually to the door. I’d ended up letting my secret slip to Vic a few days ago, realising that Georgia needed to talk to someone else about it. The reaction had been as expected.
“Noah’s talking to Seph and his brothers.” I was happy to see Georgia turning red and looking slightly guilty. “So you won’t be hearing anything through the door.”
I gave them my serious solemn school mistress face.
Both of them burst into a fit of giggles again. “We noticed you were walking a bit bow-legged this morning.” Georgia looked like she was about to wet herself.
“And when you sat down, you looked a bit… sore.” Vic tried to look sympathetic.
I shook my head, wondering what I’d done to deserve this, then checked down the corridor to see if my sisters were lurking. “Is it just you?”
Georgia managed to nod. “Catrin and Zeke were going at it again, and everyone was hanging around like it was car crash TV. We’re more interested in whether you did the deed or not, but we’re going with did.”
“I’m not talking about this outside. Come in. You can help me stuff everything into my suitcase.” And it would be stuff, because neither of my two good friends could pack neatly.
They didn’t even bother, just sitting on the sofa with the box of lube and sex toys, and waited, both looking expectantly for the dirt to be dished.
I stayed silent, double checking I’d
packed all my bikinis.
“Well? How was it? How many times?” Vic was the first to break.
“I need to know, Im, because everyone knows that Seph will end up falling asleep in Max’s room on our wedding night.” Georgia was only half-joking. It was a real fear.
I sat down and didn’t even try to stop my smile. “It was amazing. Is married sex amazing or was it because we’d waited for ages?”
Vic grinned. “I think it depends who you’re married to. Now Lucy’s past the stage where she doesn’t need sleep, we can have some adult time without falling asleep half way through.”
Georgia looked up, traumatised. “Tell me that’s never happened?”
“Once. Claire took Lucy for a weekend and Max and I escaped to a hotel. We really tried on the first night to pretend we weren’t parents, a nice meal, wine, and then we were just getting started and, yeah, not Max’s finest moment.” Vic waved her hand, dismissing it.
No chance.
“Max fell asleep? Max? Not you?” Georgia sat bolt upright. “Does Seph know this?”
“No, but I expect he will in about an hour. I was on top and by the time I’d gathered strength in my legs to move, he was gently snoring. We made up for it on the Saturday though – but that was after about thirteen hours sleep.” She stretched out. “But I don’t think it has to do with being married. I think it’s the chemistry you have, and you and Noah have enough to burn down a science lab.”
“Four times,” I confessed. “Three last night and once this morning, and he’s not small.”
They both sat a little further forward.
“That’s why you were walking funny.” Georgia wagged her finger.
“I wasn’t walking funny.”
Vic shook her head. “You were. You know what the best thing is? More sex. Leave it too long and it’ll feel sore the next time.”
“How big?” Georgia clearly had no advice to impart.
I moved my hands apart to demonstrate length. “He’s girthy too. But he knows what he’s doing with it.” I sighed, still surfing that orgasm high. “I’m just worried that this is the honeymoon period and when I’m working every hour in the week, things will fizzle out.”
Georgia shook her head. “You don’t know that. Plus, this is meant to be temporary.”
“This isn’t temporary,” Vic stood up. “It isn’t temporary when you’re head over heels in love.”
Chapter Seventeen
Noah
The sun was warm, the sea turquoise, and the woman next to me happened to be my wife. I wasn’t quite sure how this was my life right now, but I was enjoying living it.
Imogen was lying on her front, wearing a bikini that I’d already enjoyed taking off her once this morning, reading a book on her ereader. Her hair was tied up in a messy knot thing on top of her head, and she looked like she needed more sun cream applied.
I’d learned this was a really good excuse to touch her, something she’d realised after pointing out that it was cream you only needed to apply once a day.
I sat up, causing her attention to leave her book and land on me. “You look like your shoulders are getting pink.”
Imogen laughed and turned over, making my chest expand and my heart begin to thud. “I’m so not, but feel free to add a massage in when you’re putting more cream on.”
I sat on the edge of her lounger. We’d left a rainy and cold Scotland for the Maldives, an exclusive resort where we had our own private island, meaning total privacy, which had been helpful and probably stopped us from being arrested.
“Don’t you think this much sex might be a problem when we get home?” She lay on her back, her hand toying with the strap of her bikini. “I have to get back to work. I think I’ve become addicted to your dick.”
I smiled because this was the sort of line most men dreamed of hearing. “We’ll get into a routine. I have to work too – I’ll be away a couple of days a week in Norfolk, and as much as I’d love you to come with me, I know you need to be in the office.”
Her nod was almost imperceptible. This was a conversation we’d had a few times – what would it be like when we got back home? I could see how she was adding pressure to herself to be something that wasn’t necessary, or even wanted.
“But what about when you have to attend things?”
“You been Googling me again?” I’d caught her doing this, looking at photos online from events I’d attended, often with a woman on my arm.
She shrugged, and said nothing.
“If you can come with me, you will. There will be times you have something to attend, and I’ll come with you when I can. We both have lives, Immy, and you set a whole paragraph out in the agreement about this.”
“But that was before we were, you know, more than just interested parties with an agreement to get married. It’s not that simple anymore, is it?” She looked worried, something she shouldn’t be on her honeymoon.
“Why can’t it be?” I edged closer to her, putting my hands on her legs and running them up her soft skin. “Let’s enjoy it without any pressure.”
She put her hands on my shoulders and moved closer to me, pressing her lips to my chest.
I wanted to hear those words from her, the ones that would upgrade our agreement to one that would be permanent, but I didn’t want to say them first in case they scared her away completely.
We snorkelled, took a boat ride further out and spent the day out in the Indian Ocean, spent the days by a beach I didn’t want to leave, and the nights in our bed. To be fair, we spent some of the days in our bed too, or sneaking make out sessions in when we could. We were away from work, our friends, and our families, although I half lived in fear that Gus would turn up.
He didn’t, but he did call.
“How’s it going? Has she filed for divorce yet?” His greeting was smooth as always.
“Lovely to hear from you. How’s Vivi? Found a better prospect yet?” I stepped away from where Imogen was snoozing, not wanting to wake her, especially with a conversation between me and Gus.
Gus laughed. “Vivi is fine and sends her love. Seriously, how’s the honeymoon? I heard through the grapevine that is Imogen’s friends, their partners and then half of London that you have a big cock that’s girthy. There was a demonstration of size in that comment too, but I suspect most of this is unintelligible whispers.”
“Feeling inadequate?”
“Not at all, little brother. But as I’m led to understand it, or how I interpreted it at least, is that this marriage might not be that fake.”
I heard sirens in the background, and figured my brother was taking a break at work.
“It’s definitely more complicated than it was a couple of months ago.” That was an understatement.
“Good. We like her. Lady S likes her. More importantly, so does Vivi. When are you coming round for dinner?”
“Would that dinner involve the four of us at a table, or just me and Imogen while we babysit your kids while you two go out, because we know you’ve got form for that.” He’d done that twice before, providing takeout, a smile, and then disappearing. Carla had been with me on one occasion, or she had until she’d gotten bored and headed out to meet her friends, leaving me with the kids. The other time I’d been with Robbie, and the four of us had ended up binge watching Marvel movies.
“Ye of little faith. We’ll make it after the kids’ bedtime, and we’ll get a caterer. And me and Vivi will stay in with you. So I can pencil you in?” He actually sounded keen.
“Yes, but let me check when Imogen can do it. She’s back to work when we get home and I know she’s busy.” I glanced over at her, seeing that she was still asleep. I didn’t want to pressure her with demands for her to be everywhere. Plus I wanted some time where we could be alone.
“You do that.”
“I will.”
My bathroom was littered with the contents of a make-up counter. Some powdery stuff had spilled over the sink, there was a blob of some thick, a
lmost shiny liquid splodged next to my toothbrush, and I couldn’t find my shaving foam anywhere.
The bathroom was a recent change to the house, totally modernised with a large walk-in shower that had a couple of jets, and a large, freestanding bath. It had previously been a small room with a shower over the bath, next to a small bedroom, so I’d had the two rooms knocked into one and made something the designer didn’t want to leave when she’d seen the finished product.
Imogen loved it.
We’d been living together for two months, married for two and a half months now, and life was busy. We’d survived a Christmas, a very boozy New Year, a visit from my mother, and two huge cases that she’d been leading on.
I was not surviving sharing a bathroom.
My brothers had joked that I was anally tidy, and I didn’t argue it, because I was. I tidied as I went, wiped up if I spilled and left a room as if I hadn’t been there. Imogen wasn’t messy, but there were mornings where she was up a little later than she needed, or we got busy doing something else, where the bathroom was left looking like a hurricane had blown through.
I picked up my razor, found my shaving cream and shower gel, collected my towel that was somehow on the floor, and departed for the bathroom opposite. This was smaller, didn’t have a bath, but still had a decent shower with the jets. To save an argument, I decided that his and hers bathrooms were needed going forward, and given it was my decision, I’d be the one to move.
I stripped and got in the shower, turning the water on hard and letting it blast my skin, revelling in that first shower. Immy had woken up late this morning. She was due to meet Georgia and Max to go through a new case that was going to be another time drain, so her head was already in that zone. She’d been up until midnight going through various papers, and I’d barely seen her, other than to bring her tea and make sure she ate, even if it was just a toasted sandwich.