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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Aroha
James carries me through to the bedroom, pulls back the duvet, and lowers me onto the mattress. I lie back on the pillows and watch him remove his track pants. Then, in just his very tight boxer-briefs that cling deliciously to his erection, he climbs on the bed next to me and stretches out.
We lie on our sides facing each other, and he moves closer so we’re pressed close from our chests to our thighs, our legs tangled together. He puts his arms around me, and I slide mine around his back. Then he starts to kiss me.
I’d been semi-teasing him when I said about taking it slow, trying to entice him and turn him on, but he seems to have taken it to heart. While his mouth moves across mine, and he teases my lips with his teeth and tongue, his hands wander across my body, his fingers stroking light as feathers. He brushes them down my back, over my hips, and along the outside of my thighs, then back up the insides, just missing the sensitive area between them, and traveling instead back up over my tummy to my breasts.
He strokes them, drawing a finger across the tops of them in the lacy teddy, then cupping them and squeezing them before teasing my nipples with his fingers oh-so-gently. I don’t know how he’s so in control—I want to push him onto his back, slide onto him, and ride us both to a climax, but he definitely has other ideas.
I’m sure part of it is my confession that I’ve struggled with sex since the incident with my ex. He wants to make sure it doesn’t hurt, and I love him for that.
Even though I’m turned on and I’m crazy about him, I’m worried I’m going to tense up, and that’s stupid because anxiety is one thing that will make it worse. But it’s impossible not to feel nervous.
He must be able to feel the tension in my body, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he kisses me for what feels like hours, until I’m dizzy with longing, and sighing against his mouth. Only then does he rise and start pressing his lips down my body. He starts with my neck and kisses down to the fabric of the teddy. Then he slips the ribbon straps off my shoulders and peels them down to reveal my breasts, sighing as they come into view. He trails the tip of his tongue around my nipples, then sucks them gently. He plays with them for ages, nibbling the tips with his teeth, sucking and then blowing on the wet skin, and teasing them with the pads of his fingers, and I ascend higher and higher, feeling as if I’m floating amongst the clouds.
Eventually, he kisses down my belly, then moves between my legs. I feel him undo the fastenings underneath me, and then he moves the fabric aside and lowers his mouth to slide his tongue into me.
Ohhh… I’d forgotten how amazing this is. My eyelids flutter closed as he begins to lick and suck, and the pad of his forefinger circles over my clit, followed by his tongue.
“James…” I say with a sigh, “that feels so good…”
“You taste amazing,” he murmurs. He slides his thumb down, and I feel him tease my entrance. I tense and curse myself silently, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps his thumb there, pressing slightly while he continues to lick and suck. Each time I tense, he stops and waits, concentrating on teasing my clit. He doesn’t seem in any hurry. Eventually he turns his hand palm up and slides the tips of two fingers inside me, just a few millimeters, and gradually eases them in as I relax.
“Good girl,” he says, and I flush at his praise. I can do this. If he’s gentle and slow, we’re going to be okay.
He continues to flick my clit with his tongue, and eventually I feel the tiny muscles inside me begin to tighten. “Mmm…” My lips part as I wait for the orgasm to build, but at that moment he withdraws his fingers and lifts his head.
I blink and stare up at the ceiling, and exhale in a rush.
He chuckles, bending his head to blow gently across the sensitive skin. Only when the ripples have died away does he lower his head again, and begin to lick while he teases me once more with his fingers.
He does this a few times, until I’m gasping with need, aching for release. Then he sits up, reaches across to his bedside table, and withdraws a condom and some lube.
“Sorry,” he murmurs at my hazy look. “There’s a method to my madness.” He gets rid of his boxer-briefs, then rolls on the condom. Finally, he squeezes a big dollop of lube onto his fingers.
“I’m surprised you need that,” I say wryly, knowing I must be swollen and wet. I don’t normally have an issue with lubrication.
“Pain might be a turn on for some people, but not for me, or you, I suspect.” He covers his erection with lube, then brushes the reminder down over my sensitive skin to my entrance, making sure I’m slippery.
Pushing up my knees, he leans over me and presses the tip of his erection into me. Then he lowers down, doing his best to support his weight on his elbows to avoid my ribs, and looks into my eyes.
“Hello, wife,” he says, and smiles.
I wrinkle my nose. “Husband.”
“Do you trust me?” he murmurs as he kisses me.
I sigh. “Yes.”
He moves his hips, pressing into me just a little. I can’t help it though; I tense, and he stops.
I swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”
But he just chuckles and kisses me again. “Don’t apologize. This is the most erotic thing I’ve ever done.” My eyes widen at his smug smile. “I don’t care if I have to take you a millimeter at a time,” he declares.
I try not to laugh at his obvious delight. “You’re not supposed to enjoy my affliction.”
