by Tawny Taylor
Another part chilled.
She had heard what he’d said, that he’d be patient, wouldn’t force her to do anything she wasn’t ready for. But he was a man. With needs. And every man had his limits. How long would it be before she pushed him to the end of his?
19
Malek gritted his teeth as he toweled off. He’d thought a long, cold shower would help. It hadn’t. His balls were still aching like a son of a bitch, and all he wanted to do was throw his wife onto the bed and show her how much he loved her.
Not happening.
Thinking about the succulent woman lying in his bed, waiting for him, he tied the towel around his hips and brushed his teeth. It would probably kill him, but he was determined to keep things under control. Lei was obviously suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. She hadn’t spelled it out for him, but the signs were there. Fortunately, he knew all too well what PTSD did to some people, and he had some notion of how to help someone suffering from it. He’d done a lot of reading on the subject in the last couple of months.
Systematic desensitization, that was the clinical term for what he was doing. The non-clinical: a slow, painful seduction. Either way, it would work, if anything would.
He checked his reflection in the mirror, combed his fingers through his damp curls, and opened the door.
She was lying on her back, staring straight up at the ceiling. The covers were pulled up to her chin.
He cleared his throat and she glanced his way. Her eyes widened. She visibly swallowed. And then she jerked her gaze back to the ceiling. She was acting like a virgin on her wedding night. He felt his lips pulling into a smile as he let the towel drop on the floor, walked to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed in.
“Now that we’re married, some things are going to change,” he said.
“What things?” She scrambled out of bed, pulled the drapes, and switched off the bedside lamp. The room went dark.
“You won’t be sleeping with me like this.”
“What do you mean, ‘like this’? Do I smell bad?” Giggling nervously as she settled back under the covers, she flicked a curious look at him.
He tugged at her T-shirt sleeve. “With clothes on.”
“Ohhhh.” Her cheeks turned the sweetest shade of pink. He had to admit, he loved to see her blush. For a woman who’d once been a prostitute, Lei was extremely easy to embarrass.
“Yeah,” he said, trying not to laugh.
“Okay.” Once again, she sprang from the bed. She shuffled into a dark corner at the far end of the room.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere. I’m just undressing.”
He turned on the lamp, washing the room in a soft gold glow. “That’s better. I couldn’t see you.”
Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. Her top lifted to expose her stomach, and she visibly swallowed.
“Go ahead.” He reclined back against the headboard.
She yanked her shirt off and dropped it on the floor. And then, hopping and jerking stiffly, she disposed of her pajama pants and dove under the covers in her bra and panties.
They were nice. Better than nice. They were lacy and sweet. But they had to go, too. “You still have clothing on,” he pointed out.
She sighed. “Malek, I don’t sleep nude. It isn’t comfortable.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Her sigh was highly exaggerated. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
No use denying it. “I am. I’m torturing you. I know you’re uncomfortable, but in the long run, it’s for the best.”
She mumbled something under her breath as she wriggled and shimmied. A moment later, she waved the scraps of lace and satin at him, then tossed them on the floor. “Happy?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She motioned to the lamp. “I don’t think I can sleep with the light on.”
“I guess I can go without.” He shut off the lamp, then slid down deeper into the bed.
Now, this was heaven, lying in bed with Lei, her scent on his sheets, the soft sound of her breathing filling the silence. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the raging erection that was making his balls ache.
“Lei, I love you,” he said.
He heard her sniffle. Was she ... crying?
“Lei?” he said when she didn’t respond.
“I’m so afraid, Malek.”
“Of what?”
“Of letting you down, of disappointing you.”
“You aren’t letting me down. What made you think you are?”
“It’s our wedding night and I can barely stand getting naked in front of you.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“What if I never get over what happened? What if I never learn to enjoy sex again?”
“We’ll deal with the what-ifs when the time comes, if the time comes. Right now, you need to concentrate on what we have, our reason to celebrate. I love you, Lei. I will love you for the rest of my life, whether we make love or not. That’s only one way of expressing love, my precious wife. Only one. There’s a great many other ways.” He reached out for her, found her hand, and their fingers wove together. “Please, don’t get down on yourself already. We’ve just begun our journey. I’m happy, baby. Very happy.”
“I can’t believe you’re real.”
“I am. Real. But far from perfect.”
For that comment, he received a sweet chuckle.
“Now, that’s better. Today is a happy day. It’s a time to look toward a wonderful future, not a time to worry about the what-ifs.”
“You’re right.” She sniffled again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving me like nobody has ever loved me before. I love you, too.”
His heart took flight. And though he’d never admit it, a few tears gathered in his eyes, too. This woman, with all her imperfections, had brought out a very different side of him, one he hadn’t realized he had before now. He’d always known he was protective. As a dominant, that was one of the traits he’d seen in himself most. As he pushed his submissives to the edge of their limits, he always felt a sense of protectiveness, of responsibility.
But this was different. With Lei, he not only wanted to protect her, to take care of her, but to also help her become whole again. He was more patient, more caring.
She made him a better man.
He squeezed her hand and she returned the gesture.
“It’s hard for me to be touched,” she said, her voice low and husky. “But I want to do something special for you tonight. Something to show you how much I care about you, how much I respect you.” After a beat, she added, “How much I want you. You decide. What will it be?”
A few possibilities flashed through his mind. She liked to watch him. He knew that. So asking her to watch him masturbate was his first thought, but he shoved it aside. That would be too easy. No, he wanted to bring her a little out of her comfort zone, but not too far. He could also ask her to give him a hand job or suck his cock. But he thought that might take her back to her old life.
No, he wanted her to enjoy the experience, to get all the pleasure. How could he do that without touching her?
“I want to watch you come,” he said.
He counted eight heavy heartbeats before she answered, “O-okay.”
“I won’t touch you. I’ll only watch.”
“I think I can handle that. Lights?”
“Off.”
He heard her sigh of relief and almost laughed. He rolled onto his side, facing her, and pulled the cover aside, exposing his wife’s gorgeous body. The room was cloaked in shadow, but he could still make out the silhouette of her curves and the contours of her face. His heart rate kicked up a notch as he watched her hand glide down her stomach, toward the juncture of her thighs.
Thinking she might need some lube, he said, “Hang on.” He log rolled toward the edge of the bed and fished out a tube from the night
stand drawer. After returning to her side, he set the tube on her chest, in the valley between her breasts. “I thought you could use this.”
“Thanks.”
The sound of lube squirting echoed in the heavy silence. A softer sloughing of skin against the sheets followed as she bent her knees and dragged her feet apart.
How he wished he could bury his face between those thighs. Lap away every drop of her sweet juices. And come to the sound of her screaming his name in ecstasy. Someday, he hoped those wishes would come true. Until then, he would be satisfied to watch her.
Even if his balls ached for years.
“Do you want music?” he asked, hoping she’d say no.
“No, that’s okay.”
He tracked the motion of her hand as it moved down her body, finally becoming engulfed in the deep shadows between her legs. His blood warmed at the sound of her breathing. His mouth dried. He licked his lips, wishing he could taste her.
In his mind’s eye, he saw her part her labia, exposing her plump little clit. Watched her slender index finger glide back and forth, back and forth. Watched the rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing deepened, sped up.
He inhaled deeply, catching a tiny whiff of the sweet scent of her desire. He pulled in another breath, eager to gulp it in.
Moving cautiously, so she wouldn’t hear him, he inched his hand down, to grasp his erection. He had no lube, so he had to stroke slowly, but that was okay. The luscious sight of his wife taking her pleasure was enough to make up for it. With the poor light, he couldn’t see every detail of her body, but his mind easily swept aside the dark shadows hiding her from him. And he saw her in all her glory, her pussy lips wet and swollen, the finger of one hand sliding up and down, tormenting her clit while the finger of her other hand inched into her cunt.
He hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t laid a single finger on her. Hadn’t licked or nibbled or kissed or sucked an inch of her flesh. And yet his cock was painfully hard, the fire in his blood was raging, and his balls were so tight he had to grit his teeth against the agony.
His senses picked up each and every sign of her passion: the scent of her juices perfuming the air; the sound of her quickened breathing; her skin rubbing against the sheets as she rocked her hips up and down; the almost imperceptible feel of her trembling as it reverberated through the mattress.
He quickened the pace of his strokes, silently vowing someday all his touches would be for her. He would focus every ounce of energy on her pleasure. When she was ready to accept him.
He inched one arm closer to her, feeling the heat radiating off her skin, the slight bounce of the mattress. She was shaking all over, her skin probably coated in a sheen of sweat. Her pussy lips were probably puffy, her channel slick and ready for him.
“I’m going to come,” she whispered.
He said nothing, afraid even a single word might break her concentration and ruin the moment. Instead, he let all the minute sensations feed his desire, and stroked his cock until he was straddling the brink of orgasm. Tight. Hot. Burning. He could come. One more stroke. Only one.
But he would wait.
“Ahhhh ...” she whispered as she started thrusting her hips up high in the air.
Malek slid his fist down his shaft. His insides exploded. Cum burned up the length of his cock and sprayed into his cupped hand. Again. And again. His body jerked. His insides spasmed. Liquid heat blazed from his center out to the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet.
Relief.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yep, fine.”
“You’re breathing a little heavy.”
“Yes, I am.” He sat up and reached for a tissue to clean his hand.
“Did you masturbate, too?”
“I did.” He tossed the used tissue into the trash and settled back down.
“I like to watch you.”
He liked the way her voice sounded when she said that. “You can watch me anytime you want.”
She rolled onto her side and propped up her head. “Now?”
He chuckled. “You’d have to give me a little bit of time to recover.”
“I was just joking.” She leaned over him and pressed her soft lips to his. Her kiss was sweet. Pure temptation. “Sleepy?”
“A little.”
“Me too.” She laid her head down and flopped an arm over his stomach.
Hoping she’d leave it there, he didn’t move, barely breathed. He closed his eyes, knowing very soon she’d be thrashing and screaming in terror.
Lei was smiling. Oh yes, she was. Smiling. And satisfied. But more than that, relieved.
Maybe she hadn’t made the worst mistake of her life. Maybe everything would be okay.
Oddly, it was this little masturbation scene that had given her some hope things would turn out okay. Malek had proved he could be patient, creative, resourceful ... and yet quietly dominant. The end result was her first orgasm in ages. A blastoff-to-the-stars climax that made her toes curl. She was still warm and tingly all over as she lay next to her husband, listening to his slow, even breaths.
A few niggling doubts and questions still remained, but for the most part, the worst of her worries had been laid to rest. She was ready to relax, face the future as it came. For once, she felt the chains tying her to her dark past could be broken. Holloway was still out there somewhere. And she hadn’t heard a word from Vasquez in days. But she was safe. Malek was safe. And soon they would be starting a new life together.
Relaxed, she let her dreams carry her off.
20
The next morning, Lei left their bedroom feeling a little anxious but also a little excited. Her husband—would she ever get used to saying that?—had already proved himself to be a very clever man. Without laying a hand on her, without speaking, he’d given her the most sensual experience of her life last night. What would his wicked mind come up with next?
Because she wanted to feel pretty today and as relaxed as possible, she ran some water for a bath in the master bathroom. As the tub was filling, she went back to the bathroom she’d once called hers, in search of her personal items. But when she returned, arms loaded with all her stuff, she discovered Malek had made himself comfortable. In her full tub.
“Well, I guess I’ll wait to take my bath later,” she said, laughing.
His grin was pure evil. “Oh no, you won’t.” He scooted toward one end and flipped his head. “Come on in. There’s plenty of room.”
There was plenty of room, under normal circumstances. The sunken bathtub was one of those nifty oversized jet tubs, made to accommodate two people, as long as those two people didn’t mind touching and weren’t the size of a polar bear, like Malek.
“Lei,” Malek lifted an arm, draping it over the tub’s edge. “The water’s getting cold. This place has an old water heater. If you don’t bathe now, you’ll be taking a very chilly bath later.”
“Are you even supposed to be taking a bath? What about your stitches?” She set all her bottles and jars and tubes on the counter and, avoiding meeting his gaze, stripped off her bathrobe.
He pointed at the bandages. “They’re dry. That’s why I didn’t fill the tub all the way.” He reached for her hand, holding it and easing her into position in front of him. She sat with her back to him, her legs bent, knees in front of her chest, her butt between his spread thighs.
Malek poured some bath gel into a net pouf and started lathering her back. “Last night, when you were touching yourself, what did you picture in your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” he echoed. The pouf swirled in circles over her back, round and round. It felt so good. “Your mind was blank?”
“I try not to think. If I do, it gets in the way.”
“I see.”
“What about you?” she asked as she let her chin rest on her bent knees.
“My mind wasn’t blank, if that’s what you
mean.”
“What were you visualizing?”
“You.”
Lei’s heart jerked.
“I watched your sweet little nipples harden. Your stomach clench. I saw your fingers slide between your slick, swollen tissues to find your clit.”
“You saw all that?” she asked, growing breathless. Her pussy was getting warm. Her blood, too. It was the way he talked, his voice so low and rumbly and masculine. He might talk her into an orgasm.
Before today, she’d gone months, make that years, without coming. She’d thought she might never have an orgasm again. And here she was, panting at just the sound of his words.
“I did,” he said. “And it made me hard.”
An image flashed through her mind, of Malek standing before her, completely nude, rivulets of soapy water glistening on his golden skin. “I ... you have quite an imagination.”
“Yes, I do.” The pouf skimmed along one side of her body, coming close to the side of her breast.
She sucked in a little gasp.
“Did that hurt?”
“No.”
“Good. Now it’s my turn.” Before she could ask what he meant, he reached over her shoulder and dropped the pouf into the water.
His legs disappeared from either side of her, and the water started splashing as he repositioned himself. She turned around to find he was now facing the wall. She took one look at his broad back and fished in the water for the lost pouf.
His skin was smooth, a golden tan that suggested he spent a lot of time shirtless in the sun. And under that satin velvet skin rippled bulging, defined muscles that would make most men green with envy.
This was a man who was powerful, strong, maybe even a little dangerous.
He said nothing as she scrubbed his back, working from his broad shoulders down, down, down. He stopped her when she reached the level of his narrow waist. “Your turn again.” Moving quickly, he grabbed the pouf out of her hand. “Don’t move.”
Sitting exactly where she was, Lei watched Malek stand up. Water shimmered in the light, emphasizing every curve and bulge of his muscles. Naturally, her gaze went right to his groin when he turned around. His cock, the base covered by coarse black curls, was fully erect. Thick. Long. Lei yanked her gaze away, dropping it to the white frothy water.