by Lynne, Donya
-Xuan Ta
Karma faced the mirror in the white marble and glass bathroom in their suite at the Canterbury in downtown Indianapolis. She was wearing the lacy negligee she’d worn the first time she and Mark made love. How fitting that she should wear it again for their first time to make love as husband and wife.
She checked the timer on the counter. Only twenty seconds remained. Mark had drawn her a bath, laid the negligee on the marble countertop next to the sink, set the timer, and told her not to come out until it went off.
That was so Mark. Even on their wedding night, he couldn’t just let things unfold naturally. He had to have a plan.
She smiled at her reflection. Okay, so a plan was fine. It meant he wanted to make the night even more special than it already was. A night she would never forget.
She couldn’t hear anything from the other side of the door. No music. No sounds coming from the TV.
Ten seconds left.
How would he react when he found out she’d been on birth control for the last month and he no longer needed to wear a condom? For that matter, how would she react when she felt him slip inside her for the first time, skin-to-skin?
Five seconds.
She took a deep breath and stepped toward the door.
The timer beeped once before she shut it off. Turning off the light, she slowly opened the door.
Candlelight from a half-dozen white candles scattered throughout the room greeted her. The curtains were open, letting in the light from the city.
Mark lay on the bed, on his side, propped on his elbow, wearing a pair of white linen drawstring pants. His gaze raked her body as she approached. Then he slowly sat up, reached behind him, pulled out two boxes wrapped in gold and white paper, and set them in front of him on the comforter.
“What’s this?” She shyly bit her bottom lip, eyeing the boxes.
“My wedding gifts to you.” He took her hand and guided her onto the bed.
“Don’t you think marrying me is enough of a gift?” She kissed him then sat cross-legged in front of him on the plush white comforter.
Shaking his head, he picked up the longer and flatter of the two boxes. “Open this one first.”
Trying not to rip the paper like an overly excited five-year-old, she sliced it with her recently manicured fingernail and peeled it back from the edge. Inside was a blue box. She immediately recognized the color as Tiffany’s. When she pulled it free from the wrapping, the black lettering that spelled “Tiffany & Co.” confirmed her suspicion.
“Mark . . .”
“Go ahead . . . open it.”
She untied the bow then lifted the top to reveal a black jewelry box. When she opened the lid, she sucked in her breath, covering her mouth with her fingers. The diamond and ruby necklace and matching earrings were beyond anything she’d ever seen. For the necklace, rubies of graduating sizes were surrounded by diamonds and strung together to look like dozens of flower heads lined up side by side.
“When I saw this necklace, it reminded me of you the night we met,” he said, lifting it from the box with both hands and extending it toward her.
Speechless, she leaned forward as he fastened the clasp behind her neck.
“When did you . . . ? How . . . ?”
A pleased grin spread over his lips. “I have my ways of getting what I want without you knowing, my lovely bride.”
Her fingertips danced delicately across the priceless gems collaring her neck. “It’s beautiful.”
He pinned the earrings in her ears then set the empty box and wrapping paper aside. “When I make love to you tonight, you’ll wear nothing but this.” He caressed her skin around the necklace. “But first . . .” He leaned back again and picked up the other box. “Your other gift.”
He handed it to her, and she shook her head, not being as careful this time as her trembling fingers tore away the paper. “Mark, you’ve already given me too mu—” She cut off with a laugh as she pulled their old Truth or Dare game from inside the paper. “What is this?” She held it up in front of her.
“It’s been a while since we played. I thought it would be fun to see how much we’ve changed.”
She set the box on the bed and opened it. “Oh, we’ve changed. I can already tell you that.”
“Well then, let’s just see.” He pulled the cards out and fanned them on the comforter as if he were a card dealer in Vegas.
“Silly me for thinking I would come out of the bathroom and you’d simply ravish me.”
He plucked a card from the deck. “Oh, I’ll ravish you.” He gave her a roguish smile. “But I want to seduce you first.”
“That’s sweet of you, honey, but I’ll let you in a little secret. I’m a sure thing.”
Chuckling, he flipped the card over so he could read it. “I never take anything for granted. Now, truth or dare?”
She bit her bottom lip. This wasn’t what she’d expected tonight, but given how hot and bothered this game had made her the other two times they’d played, she could only imagine how intense the sex would be later. After all, as the wedding was all about the dress, the honeymoon was all about the sex, and Mark more than understood that.
“Truth.”
His coy smile sparked mischief into his features. “What’s the kinkiest thing we’ve ever done together? Describe in detail what you liked about it.”
She thought back over all the kinky things they’d done, as well as all the kinky things they still had yet to do. “How do I narrow it down to just one?”
He looked like he was reminiscing on some of their greatest hits himself. “You can do it. I have faith.”
She smirked at him, then, after thinking it over a few more seconds, she said, “I think the kinkiest thing we’ve done is when you took me into that stairwell during the benefit.”
“Mmmm, yes. Nice choice.” He nodded shallowly. “But something tells me our kinkiest moments are still to come.”
“And something tells me you might be right.” He’d teased her about taking her to a sex party—just to observe, he’d said—but had yet to follow through.
She picked up a card. He said “dare” before she could even ask.
She turned the card around and read, “Whisper something in another language to me. Make it sound as sultry as possible.”
What a perfect dare for Mark.
He leaned toward her, eyes hooded, lips curved in a sexy grin. “Quando stasera faro l’amore con te, ho intenzione di farti urlare il mio nome e farti andare in pezzi, fino a quando non ti tremeranno le gambe e non potrai respirare senza lodare il giorno in cui ci siamo incontrati.”
She had no idea what he’d just said, but it sounded hot. A delicious ache pulsed between her legs. “What did you just say?”
He licked his lips and leaned closer so his mouth brushed over her cheek toward her ear. “I said that when I make love to you tonight, I’m going to make you scream my name and come undone until your legs quiver and you can’t breathe without praising the day we met.” His tongue flicked her earlobe before he closed his lips around it in a gentle, suckling kiss.
“Oh.” The temperature between her legs continued to climb.
As he sat back and picked up a card, his self-satisfied expression oozed confidence that he would do exactly as he claimed once the game ended, which caused a shiver to race down her spine.
“Truth or dare?” he said, his voice smug yet husky.
“Truth.” She didn’t think she could handle a dare right now.
He read the card to himself then laughed and dropped his head back.
“What? What does it say?”
With a shake of his head and still laughing, he turned it around so she could read it.
“Have you ever had multiple orgasms?” She giggled.
He tossed the card aside. “I already know the answer to that one.”
She’d been having multiple orgasms with him since their sex life had begun.
He picked another card and rea
d it to himself first. “Ah, this one’s much better. Do you think make-up sex is better than everyday sex?”
She thought about it a second then said, “We don’t fight enough for me to be able to effectively answer that one.”
“We’ve had a couple of big arguments.”
She regarded him with a one-shouldered shrug. “Yes, but I can’t say the sex afterward was any better than everyday sex. I mean, Mark, your everyday sex is pretty hot.” She leaned toward him, running the tip of her finger down the center of his chest and torso. “Of course, if you ever want to role play a pretend argument followed with pretend makeup sex, I’m completely fine with that.”
He closed his fingers around her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Noted.” He kissed each knuckle. “Although faking an argument with you could be pretty difficult.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.” She grabbed the next card. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he said, releasing her hand.
“Tell me the dirty phrase you most love to hear in bed.”
“That’s easy. My name.”
She gave him an admonishing glare. “Your name isn’t a dirty phrase.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. ‘Fuck me, Mark,’ or ‘Oh God, Mark, I’m about to come.’” He did his best to imitate her voice while emphasizing his name. “It’s how you say it that makes it sound so dirty.” He narrowed his eyes lasciviously, if not a tad mockingly.
“I do not sound like that.”
“Yes you do. You’re just too busy coming to hear yourself.”
“And you’re not?”
He winked and gave her a lopsided grin. “Good point. But . . .” He held up his index finger. “Do I get brownie points for setting up a good pretend argument for later?”
She blew out a puff of breath. “You’re impossible.”
He pressed forward so his lips were barely an inch from hers. “And you love it.”
She closed the distance and gave him a sweet, heated peck. “More than you know.”
“Thought so. By the way, dare.”
“It’s your turn.”
“I want you to go again.”
She fought not to smile and stared into his eyes for a long moment. “Okay, fine. I’ll go again.” She reached down blindly, pulling a card from the pile. He sat back.
When she read the card to herself, she shook her head. “No way.”
“What?”
“It says for you to imitate what I sound and look like when I orgasm.”
He laughed. “Didn’t we just discuss this? We’re both too busy coming to actually know what we’re hearing and seeing from the other, right?”
“Exactly. I’m picking again.” She tossed the card aside and grabbed another. “Sit on my lap or let me sit on yours for the next three cards.”
“This could be dangerous.” He inched backward then patted his lap.
“Or severely shorten how long we continue playing.” She crawled over the cards and straddled his crossed legs then wound her own behind his back.
“This is all just foreplay anyway.” He cradled her exposed rump in his hands.
“Ah, so the truth comes out.”
“You know I never do anything without ulterior motives.” His fingers tapped her bare cheeks then squeezed.
“True.”
One hand left her bottom, and she heard the soft whisper of the cards sliding over each other before he selected one and glanced to the side to read it. “Truth or dare, Mrs. Strong.”
She couldn’t get enough of him calling her that.
“Truth.” She draped her arms over his shoulders.
He met her gaze. “When I’m on top of you, what’s your favorite part of me to watch?”
“Ooohhh, that’s a good one.” She closed her eyes and imagined them having sex. He moved more like a powerful ocean wave than a human body, every muscle rippling as he surged into her then retreated only to flow against her again with even greater force. But it was the little details about his movements that she enjoyed the most.
“I love looking into your eyes, but . . .” She slowly swept her hands along the backs of his shoulders and down his biceps. “I think my favorite part to watch are your shoulders and your arms. And your chest. The muscles bunch and flex and kind of roll and twitch really hard when you’re about to come. It’s really sexy.”
His eyebrows lifted as if he hadn’t expected that answer. “I never knew that.”
“I never thought to tell you before.”
“Mmm, this game has allowed me to learn something new tonight. Maybe I can return the favor. Do you want to know what my favorite part of you is to watch when you’re on top of me?”
She nodded, snuggling closer, feeling his erection beneath his smooth linen pants.
“Your hips.” He gripped them and rolled them forward. “I don’t know if it’s all your yoga training or if it’s just the way you naturally move, but you move your hips in the most incredibly sexy way. You hold the rest of your body almost completely still, but your hips . . . God, it drives me wild watching you fuck me.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She had no frame of reference. Before Mark, she’d slept with only two other guys, and neither had taught her much about sex. Then, last year, she’d been with Brad, but he was nowhere near as imaginative and attentive in the bedroom as Mark.
“Are you saying that most women don’t . . . you know . . . use their hips the way I do?”
“I’ll just put it this way. You are unique in every way, Karma. You truly were made for me.”
That sounded like a thoughtful way of saying he wasn’t going to talk about other women on their wedding night.
He reached behind her, snagged a card, and slipped it into her hand. “Truth.”
Feeling like the luckiest woman in the world, she read, “Which is your favorite kind of sex: soft and sweet or aggressive and feisty?”
“Both,” he said without hesitation. “You and I have done both, and, as you know by now, I have a dark side that likes to come out and play occasionally. So . . . I like both equally, depending on our mood. I love the intense feeling of connection when we make love. But when we fuck . . .” He emphasized the word to indicate that he considered feisty sex fucking and sweet sex making love, “I love the way we lose ourselves. It’s as if we become different people when we’re fucking. There’s something extremely exciting about that, especially given my enjoyment of role-play sex.”
“I feel the same way. I like both, too, for the same reasons.” She was normally so conservative and straight-laced, but Mark had a way of pulling out a different side of her. One that was her polar opposite. Conservative became daring. Straight-laced became wanton. He was able to persuade her good girl persona into the shadows while coaxing out her inner vixen.
His grip tightened at the small of her back. “I think this is something we need to explore further now that we’re married.”
“What did you have in mind?”
He gave her one of his looks that said he wouldn’t divulge anything tonight, but that she should expect the topic to come up again sooner rather than later. “We’ll see.” He picked another card. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“What is the strangest thing that has ever turned you on?”
This was a no-brainer. “When you speak Italian.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Then you aren’t paying attention. Haven’t you noticed how hot I get when go all Italian Mark on me? I mean, I practically had an orgasm back there.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating five minutes ago.
“Mmmm, I have to remember that.”
“Yes, please do, because that is damn near the sexiest thing ever.”
“I thought I was the sexiest thing ever.”
She slid her hands up his chest to his shoulders. “You’re a given.”
“Aren’t you sweet.” He pushed a card into her hand. “Dare.�
�
“You sure enjoy the dares.” She flipped the card around to read it.
“No risk, no reward.”
“Then you’ll love this.” She cleared her throat. “For the next sixty seconds, touch yourself like you’d like me to touch you.”
The way his eyelids fell and the corners of his mouth lifted, he clearly liked this dare. Leaning back on one arm, he rubbed his large hand across his chest then played with the sparse, dark trail of hair down his sternum, plucking with his thumb and forefinger. “You do this thing I really love.”
What was he talking about?
Her confusion must have shown on her face, because he said, “You like to pluck my chest hair.”
“I do?” She hadn’t even realized she did that.
He nodded. “I love it. After we have sex, when you’re lying next to me, your fingers play over my chest.” He brushed his fingers back and forth to illustrate. “And every so often, you pull the hair. Not hard. You’re very gentle.” He tugged at a couple of tufts then grew more serious as his hand trailed south. “But what I really love . . ..” He untied the drawstring on his pants then pushed the waist down to expose his ruddy erection. “Is when you wrap your hand around my cock.” He did, and seeing his fist engulf his girth made her draw in an abrupt breath. “Your hand is smooth and gentle, yet firm.” He stroked upward then back down. “And you never rush. You seem to enjoy holding me right at the edge, keeping me balanced between getting there and going over.” He stroked a few more times then let go of himself without covering back up. “And . . . I think that’s sixty seconds.”
Why did time fly when she was enjoying watching him masturbate?
She reached behind her, snagged the first card she found, then handed it to him. “Dare.”
“Mmm, a dare. You’ve been mostly about truth until now.” He scanned the card.
“No risk, no reward, right?”
His hooded eyes met hers. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.” He read her dare. “Slowly trace my lips with your tongue.” He flipped the card away so that it lifted on an invisible draft then tumbled and rolled to the opposite corner of the bed.
He was still reclined and supported on his arms, so she had to unwrap her legs from around his waist and shift forward so she draped along his body. His erection rubbed against the wisp of a thong that only just barely covered her privates.