by Noelle Adams
She rolled her pelvis and released a shuddering exhale of pleasure. She’d lifted her head from the pillow and was staring down at him. “There, Paul, there!”
He smiled up at her, losing his breath at the wild, hungry look in her eyes. Then he slid one finger back inside her and lowered his mouth to nuzzle her again.
“Oh God!” she gasped, as he started to pump his finger. She made a choked sound as he joined the one finger with another.
She was incredibly tight. So tight he was hit with a flicker of concern. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he was afraid he was going to have to.
“Eh,” she gasped again as he thrust the two fingers, curling them up slightly. She was trying to ride his fingers with her hips, and her arms had flailed out to the sides and were fisting the bedding.
Paul teased her clit with his tongue, causing her to cry out in response.
Everything about her was passionate and responsive and somehow real. Paul had never experienced anything like it, never felt anything as utterly genuine.
All of it was Emily, and she was giving all of it to him.
His arousal throbbed dangerously as Emily’s motion grew more urgent. He closed his lips around her clit and sucked hard.
She came undone completely, crying out wordlessly and shuddering as orgasm took her. He felt her clamp down hard around his two fingers. He kept pushing against them and sucking her clit to extend her pleasure as long as he could.
He was gasping as much as she was when her body finally started to soften, and he was embarrassingly grateful that he’d managed not to come in his pants.
“Oh my God,” Emily rasped, wiping what looked like a tear off her cheek. “Wow.”
He raised himself up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and adjusted so he was beside her again. He leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips.
She grabbed his head and pulled him back into a much harder kiss. “That was…that was incredible,” she murmured when she withdrew. “I had no idea it could be so good.”
Paul smiled, ludicrously pleased with this affirmation that he’d pleased her more than anyone else ever had.
She reached down and grabbed his left hand. Then raised it up to her mouth so she could press a kiss on his palm and then on his wedding band. “I always knew I had an exceptionally talented husband, but I had no idea it extended to that.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why would you doubt me?”
“I never will again.” Her eyes darted down his body, where they rested on his obvious arousal beneath his pajama pants. “Did you want me to do you now? I’m not any sort of expert, but I can try my best.”
Paul made a choked sound at the thought of Emily going down on him. His pelvis even gave an involuntary little thrust. But he managed to say, “No. Not tonight.” When she frowned, he explained, “That might be the end of it, and I thought you wanted to have sex.”
“Oh. I do.” She reached over and stroked his chest, almost hesitantly. “Honestly, I’m kind of nervous.”
“Don’t be,” he murmured gently, breathing deeply at the feel of her hands on his chest and then moving lower to his belly. “I’ll make it as good for you as I can.”
“I know you will.” Emily was smiling at him again, and her eyes reflected such affection, such trust, he couldn’t comprehend it. “I’m so glad my first time’s with you.”
Something swelled in his chest at the words, at the thought that she wouldn’t rather be doing this with someone else. He was momentarily paralyzed with the emotion—so strong and aching he could barely recognize it.
Then he realized Emily’s hands had reached the waistband of his pajama pants. “Can I?” she asked softly, slanting him another hesitant look.
He nodded and helped her as she started to pull down his pants, gently bypassing the prominence of his erection.
Emily stared down at him.
Paul felt an irrational wave of self-consciousness himself at her unwavering gaze. According to other women he’d been with, his anatomy was nothing to be ashamed of, but Emily was the woman who mattered to him most.
Her eyes moved up to his face. “Can I?”
He realized she was asking permission to touch him. Not trusting his voice to speak, he just nodded as he had before. He held himself very still as she reached out to gently brush the hard length of him with her soft fingers.
The light stimulation fired off thousands of nerve endings, sending shudders of pleasure through his entire body. He had to fight not to thrust into her hands.
She seemed mesmerized by her exploration of his body. Paul tensed his muscles so he could remain rigidly controlled in order to allow her to continue.
But when her fingers slipped down to his balls, he made a choked sound and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry,” he said thickly. “You better stop.”
She looked surprised, but then her eyes moved from his tense, sweating face to his erection. “Oh,” she said, hiding a little smile, “Sorry.”
Her expression made him feel fond, almost tender. The emotion was such a contrast to his physical condition that Paul momentarily lost control of both of them.
He breathed deeply until he’d restrained his impulses, and then he gently rolled Emily onto her back. “You ready?” he asked, praying she’d say yes because he just wasn’t going to last much longer.
She nodded, her eyes wide and a little anxious.
Paul leaned down to kiss her and was relieved when she relaxed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him and spreading her legs to make room for him between them.
He really didn’t know the best way to do this. He didn’t think he’d had sex with a virgin before, unless it had been in his teenage years when he’d been too stupid to realize it.
As he kissed her, he slid one hand between her legs again, relieved to discover she was still very wet. He slipped two fingers inside her as he had before, but this time he pushed against her inner walls in an attempt to stretch them as much as he could.
Emily seemed to like the feeling, since she tried to ride his fingers in shameless little pumps.
He lost concentration for sustaining the kiss, and their lips broke apart. Emily was making more of those breathless sounds of pleasure, and Paul braced himself above her, his face very close to hers as he thrust into her with his fingers.
“Paul, please,” Emily gasped at last. “I want you. I want you.”
With a rough sound, he pulled his hand from between her thighs. Then he repositioned his knees and gently massaged Emily’s thighs and bottom. “It might hurt, Emily.”
“I know. It’s okay.” She gazed up at him with that affection, that absolute trust on her face. “I’m ready.”
So, bone-deep desire and something even stronger coursing through his body with his blood, Paul lined up his erection at her entrance. He licked his lips and braced himself with one arm straightened above her.
He nudged at her gently with the tip, and she raised her hips slightly, trying to meet him.
He penetrated her about an inch, sucking in his breath at the feel of her tightness him, even so shallowly. His body was so tense it was almost shaking.
“It’s okay, Paul. I’m not made of glass. Just do it.”
So he did. He reangled, went deeper, reangled again. Then thrust home.
Both he and Emily made hoarse groans at the full penetration. She felt so good, so hot, so wet, so tight around him that it was almost more than he could bear.
But Emily had cried out for a different reason. Her cry had been pained, and she was shifting restlessly, biting her lip, and looking away from him.
“Is it bad?” he asked, the stab of guilt and concern bringing him down from the edge of exquisite pleasure. “Baby, is it bad?”
“No,” she said, tossing her head slightly. “It’s okay. Just give me a minute.”
Paul didn’t want it to just be okay for her, and he was horribly afraid that it was much worse than okay. She wasn’t meeting his
eyes.
He started to pull out, instinctively unwilling to do anything that would cause her pain.
“No,” she gasped, “Don’t you dare! I just need a minute.”
Her outraged tone distracted him enough to keep him from doing anything. He just held himself still above her and tried not to think about how incredibly good she felt around him.
To his surprised, she gave a choked giggle.
He blinked down at her.
Her face soft with affection, she said, “It’s kind of uncomfortable, Paul, but it’s already starting to get better. No need to look like I’m being tortured. You’re very impressive, of course, but you’re not that big.”
He shook with involuntary laughter. “Don’t make me laugh,” he warned her.
It wasn’t an idle warning. He felt tension tightening in his groin, so he forced the amusement back under control.
Instead, he leaned down to kiss her lips gently. He stroked her lips with his tongue and, when she opened for him, he very gently slid his tongue into her mouth.
It didn’t take long until her tongue was fluttering to meet his. Then her hands lifted to his shoulders. And then to tangle in his hair.
He groaned into her mouth at the stimulation from her fingers, combined with the feel of her body relaxing around his erection. She’d felt almost painfully tight before, but now she felt pliant, clinging, responsive.
The pressure of desire swelling up in him again, he tore his mouth from Emily’s. “How is it?’
“Better,” she gasped, wriggling a little beneath him, “Good.”
He muffled a groan and kissed her again. And this time he combined the kiss with a rocking motion of his hips. Not real thrusts, since he was still afraid of hurting her, just rhythmic little pushes against her.
Even the slight friction as he moved inside her felt so good he moaned into her mouth.
She moaned too. Her fingers started to dig into the skin at the back of his shoulders. Then she jerked her head from side to side.
He pumped a little harder, still not making real thrusts. His skin was wet with perspiration, mostly from the effort it was taking to control himself. Part of him wanted to fuck her for real, wanted to thrust hard and fast, wanted to claim her as his in the most primitive of ways.
But the rest of him rose up in defiance against anything that might hurt her.
Emily’s body was changing beneath him. She’d grown softer, hotter. Her motion became eager, in uneven bursts of erratic pumping that stopped and started, as if she were trying to process a flood of new sensation. She started clawing lines down his back.
The combination of relief, pleasure, pain, and inconsistency was almost torturous to Paul, firing through his body and coalescing in the throbbing of his arousal. He gave a few uncontrolled thrusts into Emily’s body, harder than he would have made on purpose.
She cried out in either pleasure or surprise. He didn’t think it was pain.
“Fuck,” he muttered, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to distract himself from the climax that had almost overwhelmed him. He froze inside her, looking away from her with a twist of his neck.
“No, Paul. I want…I need…”
“I know,” he said hoarsely, barely managing to hold it together. He was shaking now. Emily would be able to see it. “I know. Let’s try it this way, baby.”
He readjusted and used one hand to cup her ass, easing it up and then guiding her motion as he started to thrust with a faster, steadier rhythm.
“Yeah!” Emily arched her back and followed the rhythm he’d initiated, matching his thrusts with her own. “Good.”
He grunted in affirmation, overwhelmed by relief brought on by the now consistent rhythm and the rising pleasure from his motion with Emily.
She was moving with him now, and the friction was so good he could barely contain it. She still clawed at his shoulders and back, but that sign of her desire for him only made it better.
Paul stared down at her. Her hair was tousled messily around her face. Her cheeks were deeply flushed. Her blue eyes were almost wild with urgency, pleasure, and something else. She was beyond talking now, and she was rocking eagerly.
It was because of him. For him. With him.
Paul was grunting, the sounds forced out of him to the rhythm of his thrusts, as everything felt so good, so right, so needed.
Sex had never felt like this before, not even with women he’d believed himself to care about. He had no idea how to explain it, but his whole being blurred over in a wave of feeling and sensation.
His speed accelerated, as the whole universe started to crest. He stared down at Emily through the haze of a rising orgasm.
Her face was twisting now, and he felt little tremors run through her whole body. She was about to come. He could feel her. Emily.
Emily, who just last year he’d believed to be a clever but mostly irrelevant part of the neighborhood. Who had been the only person brave enough to agree to testify against his father. Who had proposed to him a marriage of convenience that had turned into anything but.
Emily, with whom he’d jumped out of a plane, seen the Pyramids, and ice-skated. Whom he’d nursed through fevers and had to bully into spending his money.
Emily, whom he had to save from dying.
Emily, who was his wife.
She arched up dramatically and froze for just a moment, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Then her body shook with her orgasm.
It was too much for Paul. He gave a few last pushes into her clenching body and felt his balls, his whole body tighten down. Climax sliced through him, the pleasure of release making him choke out something uncontrollably.
The ripples of pleasure lasted longer than he’d expected, and he was completely leveled when the last of them finally passed. His elbows buckled, and his body fell down on top of Emily in an embarrassing collapse.
Emily didn’t seem to mind. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him, occasionally shuddering or whimpering in the aftermath.
She was soft and supple and warm and strong beneath him, and Paul couldn’t seem to pull away. He couldn’t believe how much having sex with her had taken out of him. He couldn’t seem to speak, but she didn’t seem to be capable of it either.
After a minute, she started to gently stroke his back.
He roused himself enough to lift his head and stared down at her.
Her eyes were soft and fond and replete. He imagined his looked the same.
He could feel a gush of their mingled fluid. She might have bled. He needed to get up and make sure she was all right. Instead, he leaned down to kiss her, rather clumsily. She kissed him back, just as exhausted and disoriented as he felt.
Paul’s body felt fully sated for the first time since they’d gotten married. All of his muscles had softened, relaxed, until he could barely support himself. His head dropped again, his face buried in the hollow of Emily’s neck. He pressed a few more kisses against her neck.
“Are you okay?” he finally managed to articulate, worried his weight was too heavy for her, worried that she would be sore, worried that now that her physical desire was satisfied she’d realize this wasn’t really what she wanted.
She felt so small beneath him. She was so incredibly sick. She had only a few months left to live, if the doctors were to be believed. It felt like she could be so easily broken.
“Yeah,” Emily breathed, stroking his hair again. “It was so good. Are you okay too?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m good. So good.”
It was only partly the truth.
He’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted, and it had been better than anything, but Paul had realized something else that would change everything.
He loved her—he loved her—and she was going to die.
NINE
Emily’s stomach churned with anxiety as she slanted a discreet look over at Paul.
They were in the back seat together, being driven over to the Masons' for the part
y in Emily's honor. He looked handsome and urban in a black dress shirt and slate gray trousers, and his expression was as composed as always.
But something was wrong. Emily knew something was wrong.
She was very much afraid it was because they’d had sex the evening before.
She was still a little sore—a pang of pain she’d feel every now and then that reminded her of how Paul had been deep inside her last night. This morning, even though she'd been disappointed when she woke up to find his side of the bed empty, the feeling had inspired a silly kind of pride.
Now it just intensified her anxiety.
For her, the sex had been better than any fantasy. Yes, it had been rather uncomfortable, and yes, it had been occasionally awkward since she hadn't really known what she was doing. But that was to be expected. And being with Paul that way, so intimately, so deeply, had totally blown her away.
He had enjoyed it too. She was absolutely sure he had. He’d been so sweet, so careful, but he had also been into it. He’d been just as overcome with desire as she’d been, and he’d needed the consummation just as much. Emily was certain of it.
Which was why she couldn’t understand why he’d withdrawn from her today.
He hadn’t been rude or cold. He’d been just as polite and attentive as ever, asking her about how she felt and making sure she didn’t need anything. But he’d spent most of the day working, beginning well before she'd awakened. Even when he was with her, it felt like he wasn’t really there.
It made her want to cry, and she had no idea what to do about it.
Paul hadn’t said anything in the four minutes since they’d gotten in the car and left the house. The silence was really starting to get to her. It wasn’t like they always had to talk when they were together—they were quiet a lot—but this silence wasn’t companionable or peaceful.
It was stiff and uncomfortable, and Emily felt a chill of nerves as she tried to process what it could mean.
Mostly just to make conversation, she said, “Thanks for coming with me tonight.”