by Noelle Adams
After a minute, Molly heaved herself out of bed, feeling pleasantly relaxed except for the tight pressure of arousal. Since she still had bandaged knees, she’d bought a long, slinky gray skirt to wear tonight. She changed into it, pleased that it looked elegant, flattered her curves, and still hid her knees. Then she put on the sleeveless silk top with a mandarin collar she’d picked out to go with the skirt.
It looked very good—stylish but sophisticated and in that challenging mid-ground between business-wear and evening-wear. To cover the bandage on her arm, she put on a little silk cardigan sweater.
Her hair was a tousled mess, but she’d worry about that just before they left.
Overall, she was quite pleased with her appearance, particularly for having thrown the outfit together at the last minute. She still had to put on her stockings and heels, but that and her hair were all she had left to do.
She was still checking herself out in the mirror when Luke came out of the bathroom, dressed in nothing but the black trousers to the suit he was wearing this evening.
Molly gulped at the sight of him, barefoot, bare-chested, and gorgeous.
Surely he’d want to have sex tonight after dinner. Surely she wasn’t the only one who was having such lascivious thoughts.
“Very nice,” he murmured, scanning her outfit. He headed over to the closet, where he pulled out a clean white dress shirt.
“Thanks.” She tried to sound natural and not embarrassingly lustful. “I had to find something that would cover all the bandages.” She picked out a pair of her favorite thigh-high stockings and went over to the bed to put them on.
She was distracted by the sight of Luke putting on his shirt. She’d never watched him dress before, and there was something strangely compelling about it. He pulled the shirt on over his arms and shoulders, but before he buttoned it or tucked it into his pants, he worked on the cuffs.
When he glanced over, he almost caught her staring, but she managed to look away in time and pick up one of her stockings. She carefully pulled it on over one leg, taking care not to snag the delicate threads on the bandage on her knee.
She looked over and saw that Luke was standing there watching her, his shirt unbuttoned and the shirttails hanging loose. Feeling a little self-conscious, she said, “Not the most elegant thing in the world with the scraped-up knees, but I don’t think anyone will see when the skirt is covering them.”
He didn't respond, so she focused on putting on her other stocking, deeply aware of the fact that Luke was still watching her.
“Oh,” he said, as if he’d just remembered something. “By the way…”
He didn’t finish his comment—just walked into the bathroom. Molly frowned in confusion until he came out again and walked toward her.
She stood up, letting her slinky skirt fall down around her legs. He approached her purposefully, and she thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar hunger in his eyes.
Her heart started to race as she wondered if he was suffering from the same desire she was, the attraction somehow intensified by being in such intimate quarters.
When he reached her, however, Luke didn’t grab her or pull her into a kiss. Instead, he picked up her left hand.
It was then she saw he had her wedding and engagement rings in his hand, which she’d left by the sink when she’d taken a shower and put lotion on earlier.
“I hadn’t forgotten,” she said, her heart still hammering as he slipped the rings onto her finger, exactly as he had on the day they’d gotten married. “I was going to put them on before we left.”
Luke’s gaze lifted from her hand to her face. She suddenly realized she hadn’t been mistaken about his expression before. His eyes were deep and hungry, and they seemed to devour her face.
Her cheeks flushed. Her whole body flushed. And her body reacted dramatically to the expression in his eyes. Her eyes flickered down instinctively, and she saw a bulge at the front his pants. She reached out for it without thinking.
She rubbed him purposefully, loving the way he huffed in response. Then she raised her eyes and said, “Do you think we have time?”
He was obviously reining himself in, although she could feel him pushing his pelvis slightly into her hand. “You want to?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I want to.”
Luke groaned and closed his eyes for a moment as she caressed him through his pants. Then he opened them again and pulled her into a hungry kiss.
She moaned into his mouth as sensations washed over her in intense waves. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her chest eagerly against his. His tongue advanced as she opened for him, and he stroked her own tongue and the roof of her mouth, triggering new ripples of pleasures with every touch.
Molly’s knees felt weak and she clung to his body, trying to pull him as close as she could. He made a throaty sound against her lips, and his hands slid down to her bottom. He pulled up the fabric of her skirt until it was bunched up around her hips. Then he took a step toward her, causing her to fall back on the bed.
Their lips tore apart as they tumbled, but Luke wasted no time in bracing himself above her and mouthing his way down her throat.
Molly squirmed and whimpered in rising pleasure, wrapping her legs around his and trying to grind her throbbing clit against him. She gasped in satisfaction when she found the bulge in his pants.
“Molly,” Luke rasped, pushing his groin into hers with demanding entitlement, “Fuck, yes, Molly.”
She made a shameless, eager sound as she rubbed herself against him, and he scraped his teeth against the delicate skin over her throbbing pulse. She was so far gone she was almost to climax, from nothing more than this friction on her clit.
Then she choked in disappointment when Luke pushed himself up with a rough groan. “Let me get a condom,” he said, his body painfully tight as he stood up and walked over to his luggage.
Molly watched him hotly, the skin all over her body flushed and her body shifting restlessly on the duvet as she waited for him to return.
He got what he needed quickly, and he unzipped his trousers when he returned to stand between her legs. She was hanging half off the bed, but she couldn't find the coordination to reposition herself. She just stared greedily as he freed his erection and rolled the condom on.
She wrapped her legs around him again as he lowered himself over her once more. He stroked her intimately. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
She whimpered, half in response to his words and half in response to the pleasure that spiraled up from his touch. She arched up against him as he braced himself on the bed, moved her panties aside, and lined himself up at her entrance.
He slid in easily, the penetration deep and pleasurable.
“Oh, God, yes!” she hissed, tightening her legs around his middle and rocking beneath the weight of his body.
Luke gasped audibly, his head turned to the side and his eyes shut. His body shook with tension.
“Luke,” she begged, when he didn’t move. She pumped her hips up, desperately seeking friction. “Luke, please, I need it… I need you…” She couldn’t seem to form a complete sentence. Couldn’t seem to do anything but arch and writhe beneath him.
“Fuck, Molly. You feel so good.” He finally opened his eyes, and they were so hot and hungry she could barely stand to look into them. With one of his hands, he stroked his way down her thigh, over her stocking so he could pull her leg up higher on his back. “So good.”
She whimpered again, repositioning her legs slightly. “So good,” she repeated, the deep sensations almost more than she could handle. “So good.”
It took Luke a minute to get himself together, but he finally started to thrust, holding himself up with his hands braced on the bed on either side of her. She was splayed out beneath him, still wearing all of her clothes and so far gone she couldn’t seem to keep quiet.
She bucked her hips up to meet each of his thrusts, begging him to take her faster, harder, so much more. His shir
t still hung open so she could get her hands beneath it, clawing desperately at the skin of his back.
Improbably soon, she felt an orgasm swell up at her center. She started to shake and bit down hard on her lip as her vision blurred.
His rhythm had been steady at first, but as she tightened around him, his thrusts became jerky and fast. “Molly. Molly, you coming?”
“Yeah!” she cried, louder than she’d expected. “Coming, oh yeah, oh—” Her choppy words broke off as the climax sliced through her. She shuddered with overwhelming sensation, catching her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle her cry.
Her body relaxed after the climax worked its way through her, but she stretched her spine in lingering pleasure as Luke continued to thrust.
He was almost out of control now, his skin flushed and damp and his eyes devouring her her. For some reason, she couldn’t look away from his eyes—they seemed to match her own hunger, her own need.
“More,” she gasped, her body starting to rock more rhythmically beneath his thrusts, matching his motion. “More, Luke!”
He made a choked noise in his throat as his hips worked even faster. The bed rocked with their motion. His gaze never looked away from her, and that only intensified the whole experience.
She felt another climax building, this one even stronger and deeper. She made a sobbing sound as she dug her nails into his ass.
“Molly, Molly.” He grunted with increasing urgency as his body tightened up like a fist.
She kept making silly sounds of pleasure and effort, and they kept getting louder, although she wasn’t normally a loud in bed. Then finally her orgasm crested, and she came hard with an uninhibited cry.
Luke was almost there too. After her own climax, she was able to focus on him better. There was something irresistible about the desperate tension in his body, the heat coming off him in waves, the craving she saw in his eyes. She kept rocking with his motion, huffing instinctively as he moved inside her and stroking the bare skin of his back where she had scratched at him before.
Something tightened in her chest as she saw the tension in Luke’s body, in his eyes, clamp down just before his climax took him, and then she saw helpless pleasure in his face as he came.
“Oh God!” she gasped, as she felt his body soften above her. She sprawled out on the bed, sated, exhausted, and shuddering from lingering pleasure. “Oh God, that was amazing!”
“Mmm,” Luke mumbled, finally closing his eyes. His elbows had buckled and, although he hadn’t let his weight fall on her completely, he was pressing her into the mattress.
She tried to unwind her legs from around his back, but they were stiff and a little sore. She felt too good otherwise to complain. “Wow, that was incredible. I feel so much better.”
When he didn’t answer, just breathed heavily with his eyes closed, Molly got a little worried. She reached up to stroke his hot cheek. “You okay? Do you feel better too?”
He gave a huff of what sounded like wry amusement. “Yeah,” he admitted, opening his eyes. “I do.”
She grinned up at him as he managed to heave himself up, carefully pulling himself out while taking care with the condom.
As he went to dispose of it, Molly made herself get up, pulling her skirt back down over her legs. Because the fabric was silk jersey, her skirt wasn’t wrinkled. Her top was sticking to her back a little bit, but her clothes were mostly in decent shape. Her hair, however, was even more tousled, her cheeks deep red, and her lips a little swollen.
She was afraid she looked like she'd just been fucked hard.
She was fingering her hair, trying to smooth it down a little, when Luke came out from the bathroom. He appeared deliciously warm and relaxed, and he was in the process of buttoning his slightly wrinkled dress shirt.
“Are we going to be late?” she asked, glancing over at the clock.
“A little.” He tucked his shirt into his pants as he gave her a half-smile. “But it was worth it.”
She smiled and went into the bathroom. They were ready to leave five minutes later.
* * *
The dinner was just as boring as Molly had assumed, but she didn’t mind so much, since she was feeling much better about the general state of the world.
They got back late, so Molly got ready for bed immediately. She wasn’t feeling particularly horny and was looking forward to going to sleep, but when Luke asked whether she wanted to have sex again, she couldn’t think of any reason to say no.
Since they'd decided they could have sex more than once a week, they'd averaged about three times a week. Never more than once a day.
They were going to have to share a bed again, so they might as well put it to good use.
Neither of them were as urgent as they’d been earlier, and Luke took his time as he kissed and caressed her. In fact, Molly started to feel a weird kind of flutter in her belly—something beyond the deepening arousal—as he softly stroked her body and mouthed her neck, her breasts, her belly.
She was used to seeing him business-like and efficient. She understood him when he was quiet and distant. For the last couple of months, she'd known him hungry, urgent, overcome with desire.
But she wasn’t used to seeing him gentle like this, and it made her feel very strange.
Her body responded to his slow seduction, and she was ready when he finally settled himself between her legs. They weren’t as rushed and frantic, so their motion was slower, more rhythmic, but equally pleasurable.
Luke held himself above her, but not on straightened arms. He was closer than he usually was, and he occasionally kissed her as they moved together.
It all felt lovely, amazing, but Molly kept experiencing more of those weird flutters in her belly. They didn’t keep her from coming and then coming again, as Luke was able to hold out for a really long time.
When she came for the third time, he came with her, his hips working against hers with urgency for the first time.
She wasn't sure what to say afterwards, although she did let him know it had been really good—since he seemed to have made a special effort. She was glad, though, when he got up to go to the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash up for bed.
She curled up under the covers on her side of the bed. Her body was warm, drowsy, and replete. But those same uncomfortable flutters kept rising up, now centered in her chest.
Luke came out of the bathroom, turned out the light, and got into bed beside her. Part of her wanted to curl up next to him as she’d done in her sleep the night before.
She didn’t. She stayed on her side of the bed. She wanted to say something—dry, companionable, familiar—but she couldn't think of anything to say.
She could hear Luke breathing beside her in the dark. She could feel the mattress move when he shifted. She could smell him—a mingling of natural and expensive, the way he always smelled at the end of the day.
She put a hand on her belly, as if she could stop the weird, heavy flutters.
Luke was her husband of three years, but in some ways he seemed almost like a stranger.
Molly decided that maybe they shouldn't have sex more than once a day again, since the second time had made things feel different.
Seven
“Hey, George,” Molly said, sticking her head out of her office.
George didn’t even glance up from the three computer screens he was scanning while he typed so fast his fingers almost blurred. “Yup.”
She stepped into the reception area of her stylish downtown office, where her staff both had desks, and laid a file in George’s inbox. “I need in-depth financial information for all of the Genetica employees listed there—bank transactions, savings accounts, large purchases, you know the drill. One of them is dirty and hiding it very well.”
“Okay.”
“But I don’t need it done tonight. Why don’t you head home? It’s almost eight.”
“You’re still here,” George said blandly, still not looking up or pausing from his
typing. Screens were moving so fast across his monitors she couldn’t begin to keep up.
Used to having conversations with the side of his head, she asked, “Doesn’t Will want you home?”
“Will is fine,” George replied, referring to his long-time boyfriend. “How is Mr. Lyons?”
George wasn’t by nature a formal person, but he always referred to Luke as “Mr. Lyons.” Molly wasn’t exactly sure why, but she’d always found it kind of sweet—like he was going out of his way to be respectful to her husband.
George, of course, had no idea about the true nature of her relationship with Luke. He assumed, like the rest of the world, that the Lyonses were happily married. Molly just said Luke was fine and returned to her office.
She had no desire to be working so late on a Friday evening, but there wasn’t any reason for her to go home. She liked to tie up as many loose ends from her current jobs before the weekend anyway.
As she sat back down at her desk, though, her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head in her hands. She was tired. She’d been working since seven that morning.
And the truth was she felt decidedly blah.
Luke had worked late every evening this week and last week, and most mornings he’d been gone before she got up. In the three years they’d been married, he’d kept this sort of schedule before. When he’d been really buried at work, sometimes they’d gone weeks without really seeing each other.
But it felt strange to Molly that, as soon as they returned from New York, he’d disappear into his work. It felt like he was retreating from her, but she didn’t understand why.
They hadn’t had sex since that evening in New York when they’d had sex twice.
She’d felt uncomfortable and anxious afterwards herself and—had Luke made definite advances on her immediately following the trip—she might have been a little skittish.
To have him pull back completely really upset her, though. And confused her. And scared her more than that evening in New York had scared her.