by Noelle Adams
As she rubbed, she found something else, so she rubbed against that too.
He groaned against her breast, his body tightening palpably at her motion.
“Do you think you’re ready, Jessica?” he asked, jerking his head up and straightening his arms.
“Yeah,” she gasped. “Oh yeah. Please.”
She sounded too eager, but there was absolutely no way to hide her response.
She wanted him so badly she might scream. She’d never realized she was capable of feeling this way.
He groaned again, with a different resonance this time, and he repositioned himself above her so he was lying between her legs and his head was just over hers.
“Are you sur—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, practically clawing at his back to get him in position. “Hurry up. I’m dying here.”
He gave a huff that sounded like laughter.
Then she suddenly wondered if he would prefer a woman who was more innocent and passive, who would let him take control. Maybe that was how Lila had been—since she’d been sweet and compliant in all other areas of her life.
She didn’t dwell on the question or comparison, though. Even if that was what Daniel would prefer, Jessica just couldn’t be that way.
When he kissed her mouth again, she responded passionately, tugging at his hair and tangling her tongue with his.
He wasn’t as careful as he’d been when he’d kissed her earlier. He devoured her mouth, making husky sounds in his throat as the embrace deepened.
She rocked up into him as they kissed, mimicking the motion of lovemaking. Increasingly desperate for relief, she reached down to grab the waistband of his pajama pants and tried to push them down over his lean hips.
He pulled out of the kiss enough to help her, but after he’d rid himself of the pants, he was kissing her again.
Her mind was a blur of sensation and excitement, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
Then she suddenly felt his hand between her thighs, exploring until he’d slipped a finger inside her.
She gave a breathless little cry and arched up at the sensation.
“You’re ready.”
She didn’t know if it was a question or a statement. Either way, it should be pretty obvious she was ready. “Yeah. Oh yeah.”
“Do we need any—”
She knew what he was asking, so he didn’t need to finish. “I started birth control after we got engaged.” She might want kids, but not yet—not before they got used to being married to each other.
He repositioned himself again, putting more weight on his knees. Then he took his erection in his hand and lined himself up at her entrance.
“It might not be that great for you, this time,” he said, his voice almost rough with texture. Even in the dim room, she could see his dark eyes searching her face, looking for any signs of discomfort or hesitation, despite how obviously excited he was.
“I know. I know how things work. I’m ready.”
Then he started to enter her.
He didn’t go in all at once, the way she’d been expecting. He slid in and out, just at her entrance, in a series of fast little thrusts. He kept up the same kind of motion, in and out, slightly reangling, as he went increasingly deep.
It felt really good until he was almost all the way in. Then the pressure became genuinely uncomfortable.
“You okay?” he asked, when she arched up automatically.
“Remember what I said would happen if you kept asking me that?”
“Are you going to scream?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you really okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
He was holding himself still now, supported by straightened arms. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really. Just pressure. It’s going to be fine.”
The discomfort had taken the edge off her arousal, though, so she was a little disappointed as she breathed slowly to relax her body.
She supposed it was too much to expect to be swept away by passion on her very first time. She wasn’t a silly girl with unrealistic fantasies about this. Things didn’t have to be perfect to still be good.
He pulled out, relieving the pressure. Before she could object to his retreat, he entered her again, using the same in-and-out penetration. It was better this time—didn’t hurt nearly as much.
“Okay?” he asked. His arms were shaking slightly as they supported his weight above her, and she could feel heat radiating off him.
“Yeah. It’s good.” Not wanting him to get distracted by worrying about her, she pulled his head down into a kiss.
He kissed her back immediately, his tongue thrusting rhythmically into her mouth.
She responded with her own tongue and then with her body. Her hips rocked up into his, shifting his erection inside her in a way that felt so deep, so strange.
He groaned thickly as he broke the kiss. Then he started to move over her, pumping his hips until, with a few starts and stops, they’d established a rhythm.
He was really into it now. He started to make grunting noises, and his body shook with tension beneath her hands. She held on to him and tried to match his thrusts, although she wasn’t sure she was doing a really good job.
She wanted him to enjoy it. It wasn’t as uncomfortable now, and other sensations were starting to build. Although not every fast and not with the intensity they’d had before he’d entered her.
“Jessica,” he rasped, his motion accelerating even more. “Jessica.”
She made a little whimper of pleasure, both from their motion and from the way he was saying her name.
She bent her legs, bringing her knees higher as he changed positions slightly.
“How is it?” he managed to huff, although in the dim light his face twisted in effort.
He was sweating. She could feel the dampness under her palms as she stroked his back.
She was touched that he was so concerned about her enjoying it too, even as he was pretty far gone. “It’s good. It’s so good.” She cried out as she felt a sharp jolt of pleasure, completely unexpectedly. “So good. So good.”
He leaned down to kiss her again, but he obviously didn’t have much coordination left. Neither did she. Their mouths moved clumsily together for a minute before he raised himself on his arms again.
His motion was almost wild now. “I’m not sure I can hold out—”
“It’s fine.” She felt so odd, so overwhelmed, like she might cry. “I’m good. I want you to come.”
He released a long moan as his hips jerked against hers. Then he moaned again, differently, as his body suddenly froze and then released.
She loved how it felt—loved how he’d taken such pleasure in her, loved that she could give it to him.
She felt closer to him than she ever had before when his body slowly relaxed and he lowered himself over her.
She hugged him against her, and he mumbled out words she couldn’t quite understand as he pressed kisses into her neck and jaw.
She responded when he kissed her mouth, softly now, without the urgency of before. Then she was surprised when he reached down to stroke her hip and thigh. When he pulled out of the kiss, his other hand slipped up to her left breast.
“What are you doing?” she asked, shifting a little under his touch. “I thought it was over.”
“It was over for me, but I think I enjoyed it more than you did.”
She sucked in a sharp breath when his head moved down to her breast. “You don’t have to do—”
One hand slid between her thighs to explore. She was wet from her earlier arousal and his release, and her flesh was still sensitized and pulsing. “It’s not about having to,” he said in a low voice. “It’s about wanting to.”
Her body was reacting, was already trying to work into an instinctive rhythm. She stretched her back and inhaled sharply as his fingers fondled her intimately.
She felt a swell of deep affection at how serious he
was about pleasing her. She grabbed at his shoulders and held on. He evidently knew exactly what he was doing. Two fingers were pumping in and out of her tight channel, while his thumb massaged her with deep precision. He matched that pattern with his mouth on her breast, and so she felt dual tugs, dual sensations building inside.
“Daniel,” she groaned, her voice barely recognizable. “Daniel, it’s so good. Do it just like that.”
Her hips were starting to thrust into his motion, deepening the sensations, accelerating the rhythm, but she wanted to feel close to him in a different way.
“Daniel,” she gasped, pumping her hips faster, pulling him up. “Daniel, want to . . . kiss you.”
She whimpered when he adjusted up and captured her lips with his mouth.
Then it was his kiss, his touch, his rhythm—all working together in unison. He began to curl his fingers inside her, and her whole body shuddered in response. She felt the sensations coalescing, building, mounting, swelling toward that one moment of release. She was damp with perspiration and panting under his mouth. Right at the moment before she climaxed, he pulled his head up out of the kiss.
She knew he was watching as her hips jerked erratically, as her face contorted in pleasure, as her upper body came flying up in a momentum she couldn’t control. She cried out hoarsely and clawed at the skin on his bare shoulders. Her muscles clamped down violently around his fingers, but he sustained his steady motion until the contractions stopped completely.
“Oh, oh, oh, fuck,” she groaned as her body relaxed in delicious release.
Her eyes were closed, but it felt like he was smiling.
Then her eyes flew open and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say that!”
He burst into uninhibited laughter.
“I never say that,” she said, her face reddening even more than it had been.
He was still laughing as he pulled her against his chest in a half-hug. “I know you don’t. But this is one of the few times when the word is actually appropriate.”
“Well, you don’t have to laugh at me. It just slipped out. It wasn’t that funny.”
“Yes, it was.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his laughter and at the feel of his warm body against hers.
“Thank you,” she said at last. “For doing that for me, I mean.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it. All of it.”
“Good. Me too.”
She felt incredibly pleased with herself, with him, with the whole situation.
“How do you feel?” he asked, shifting slightly.
“Good. A little sore, but good. What about you?”
“Good.”
For some reason, the smile had left his voice. She didn’t know why, but she felt something shift in the mood between them.
She wasn’t sure what either of them would have said, but the silence was interrupted by a familiar scratching sound.
Bear, trying to make a nest on her bed by scratching the living daylights out of it.
“Bear,” she said. “Enough.”
Bear ignored her, as usual. The dog was fairly obedient, but scratching up a nest was serious business and always the priority.
“What is she doing over there?” Daniel asked, sitting up in bed and peering over in the dark room toward the dog.
“She’s trying to get her spot right. Don’t sound so impatient with her.”
“It sounds like she’s digging her way through the floor.”
“She’s not going to hurt the floor.” Worried Daniel would get annoyed, Jessica hauled herself out of bed and limped over to the dog. She patted Bear’s back until the dog settled down.
Since she was up, she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up a little.
She was still limping slightly as she returned to bed.
“You okay?” Daniel asked as she climbed in beside him.
She didn’t answer. Just gave him a speaking look that she was sure he could read even in the dark.
“You’re limping.”
“I’m a little sore. It’s not that bad.”
Maybe she should act more delicate and get him to take care of her, but she’d never been any good at doing that.
She scooted toward him and was relieved when he wrapped an arm around her.
It felt nice, to sleep against him. Almost as nice as their lovemaking had been.
She’d thought for a long time that she’d never have a man to sleep against.
***
It had been a really long day, and she fell asleep almost immediately.
She woke up around two in the morning, however, and rolled instinctively toward Daniel’s side of the bed.
It was empty.
It took a moment to orient herself, but this was indeed the master bedroom of the manse, and Bear was snoring softly from her corner.
Daniel just wasn’t in bed.
The bathroom door was opened, so he wasn’t in there. Concerned, she got out of bed and walked barefoot out to the hall.
The other bedrooms were all empty, so she went downstairs.
She found him in the small room they’d made his study, where he’d set up walls of bookcases and placed his old desk.
He sat at his desk, reading his Bible. She couldn’t tell if he was doing devotions or trying to work.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He jerked, obviously surprised by her presence. “Nothing. Just reading. You should go back to bed.”
“Why are you reading down here in the middle of the night?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
She frowned, wondering if he’d always been in this bad habit of getting up in the wee hours or if tonight was somehow special. He’d never had workaholic tendencies—at least none she’d been aware of. “You need to rest. This can’t be good for you.”
He smiled, but his expression was a little distant. Not like earlier at all. “I’m fine, Jessica. Seriously. Go on back to bed.”
She understood his resonance clearly. She wasn’t welcomed in his study—not at the moment anyway. She started to turn away.
She was very inexperienced with sex. Very inexperienced with marriage. Very inexperienced with men.
But she was sure—she was absolutely sure—this wasn’t right.
She turned back. “Can’t you do that later? You should come to bed.”
He released a long sigh and straightened up. She could see from his expression that he was trying to think of an excuse, a reason not to return to bed with her.
As he thought, his eyes rested on a framed picture on his desk. The photo of Lila. He must have pulled it out tonight, since he hadn’t set it up in his study before.
When he saw she’d noticed the photo, he silently slid a drawer opened and started to put the picture away.
“You don’t have to put it up,” she said in a rush, her heart aching for so many reasons. “I’d never want you to hide her picture. I’d never want you to pretend she wasn’t important to you.”
His features twisted—strangely, in a way she almost never saw. He was nearly always in control, of his words, his behavior, even his facial expressions. “It doesn’t seem right—to keep her photo out like this when I’m married to you. I don’t want you to ever think I don’t... I don’t want to hurt you.”
She was hurt, but it was irrational. Their lovemaking had felt intimate, important to her. It had made her want to be even closer to him. But it must have been different for him, since he’d run away from her. She’d like to think she was first in his heart, but she was never going to have that role. It was okay. She’d known what she was getting into, and she wasn’t going to create tension between them when none had to exist.
“I know you’d never try to hurt me.” In her earnestness, she walked into the study and toward his desk. She reached over to retrieve the framed picture and set it up on the desk. “I know you care about me, Daniel, but I care about you too. And I know you still miss her. I kno
w she’s still important to you. You can keep her picture out. We both know this isn’t a regular marriage.”
“It is a marriage.” He gazed up at her, and for just a moment she thought she saw something like yearning in his eyes. Then it disappeared, so she decided she must have been wrong.
There was no reason for Daniel to yearn for her. If he wanted her, he could have her. He only had to reach out.
“I know it’s a marriage, but it’s only going to work if we’re honest with each other. So keep her picture out, for as long as you need to. Seriously.”
He swallowed hard and nodded, his eyes returning to his opened Bible. She could see now that he’d been reading in Psalms.
“So, if we’re being honest with each other,” she added, “I really want you to come back to bed. Please?” she added, a slight plea in her tone.
He let out another breath—this one different than before—and his face softened in a way she recognized, that reflected how much he liked her, how much he wanted her to be happy. “Okay.”
He got up from his desk, turned out the lights in the study, and went back to bed with her. He even held her for a few minutes before he rolled away to go to sleep.
Jessica felt better as she closed her eyes again. Their marriage wasn’t normal. It wasn’t perfect. But maybe they could still make this work.
Four
It was just after six when Jessica woke up and headed to the kitchen to look for coffee with Bear at her heels.
Daniel was leaning against a counter, chugging down water. He’d obviously just gotten back from his regular morning run because he was dripping with sweat.
“You’re up early,” he said, lowering the bottle and moving out of the way so she could reach the coffee pot.
“Not as early as you.” She’d known he usually woke up early to run, but she didn’t know it was that early.
“Did you sleep all right?” she asked. She’d woken up once at around four, and he’d been sound asleep then, so she hoped he slept well for the hours he was actually in bed.