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She’s silent for a long moment, and I think she’s fallen back to sleep. Then, just as I resign myself to trying to sleep as well, her voice drifts towards me again.
“What do you want? Tell me.”
My last shred of self-control snaps. Every dark, dominating thought I’ve had about her comes rushing in, and I grit my teeth as I push back the blanket.
“You want a way to apologize?” I growl at her, taking control of the situation. “You can start now, wife. I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep because I’m so fucking hard thinking about you. What I want is for you to suck my cock while I lay here until I come, so I can get some fucking rest.”
I almost expect her to be upset. I’ve never talked to her quite so roughly before, never demanded something like that. I wouldn’t have—except I’m so fucking frustrated. Frustrated with her, yes, but also with myself—with my body for craving her, my heart for wanting her, even as my logical mind tells me I should want nothing to do with her. It’s made me rougher with her tonight than I might have been otherwise.
But Isabella just sucks in a breath, and I see her nod.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Anything you want, Niall.”
I feel like I’m fucking dreaming as she pushes the blankets back further, still naked as she leans over me. There’s no way for her to get between my thighs without hurting me, so instead she kneels next to me, reaching to wrap her hand around my throbbing shaft as I see her lick her lips in the dim light.
“I can’t wait to taste it,” she whispers, and I groan aloud as she bends her head, her tongue swirling around the tip. She licks down the length of it and back up again, and I feel my back stiffen as I push myself against her lips.
“No teasing, Isabella,” I tell her sternly. “We both need to get some fucking sleep. Suck it like I told you to, and swallow my cum.”
She obeys instantly, and that arouses me even more. Her lips feel soft and plush as she slides them down my cock, caressing the length of it with her tongue as she does so, and it feels like all the pain in my body starts to fade. Everything narrows down to the eight or so inches between my legs, my wife’s lips stretched around it, struggling to take me into her throat just as she knows I want her to.
While I lay here, doing nothing. It makes me feel like a fucking king, and though I’m tempted to reach between her legs and touch her, too, I don’t. Isabella wanted to make up for what she did. This isn’t a real way of doing that—but I know it makes her feel better, and it eases the bitterness in me a little, too. I’ve never been the kind of man who likes spanking or whipping a woman for discipline, who enjoys causing pain in the bedroom. If I ever punished a partner, it was with pleasure, so much pleasure that they couldn’t take anymore. If I truly punished Isabella, it would be like that.
That wouldn’t put distance between us, though. Considering how fucking much she makes me ache for her, it just might make things worse.
The rhythmic sucking of Isabella’s mouth on my cock makes my balls tighten, a pulse of pleasure jolting through my cock and warning me I’m close to the edge. I feel her hand tighten around the base, stroking me quickly as she takes as much of me as she can from that angle.
“Just your mouth, lass,” I tell her firmly. “All the way down, and then I’ll give you my cum. Be a good girl, and swallow it all.”
Isabella lets go of my shaft, drawing back for just a second before sliding her hot, wet mouth down, taking more of me than I thought she could. I feel her choke and gag, her throat muscles strangling my cock in an intensely pleasurable way, and then I feel her nose brush against my abs.
The sensation of her choking on my cock, forcing it down her throat to please me, sends me over the edge.
“Oh god,fuck,take my fucking cum—” I growl the words aloud as I grab her hair in my fist, not holding her down, but steadying her as I feel my cock swell and throb in her mouth. The first jet of cum hits the back of her throat, shooting down it, and I hear her choke and cough, but she keeps sucking.
She keeps fucking sucking, swallowing every drop as I moan her name and buck my hips, filling her mouth with my cum. She keeps going until my cock is so sensitive that I tighten my hand in her hair.
“Enough, Isabella,” I pant. “No more.”
Her lips slide over my cockhead, sending one last shudder through me before she sits back, still kneeling next to me. “Was that good?” she whispers softly, and I nearly laugh aloud.
“Oh god, lass, it was incredible. You suck my cock so well.”
Faintly, I can see her smiling at the praise. Without my having to tell her, she slides back under the blanket, even though I can feel the tension in her body. I know it turned her on, that she wants to come too, but she’s not going to ask for it. I told her to service me, and she’d done so, without complaint.
Frustration bubbles up in me again.We could have been so fucking perfect if things were different.Isabella has a natural tendency to be submissive with the right man, someone who would nurture it rather than take advantage of and hurt her. The thought of anyone else ever touching her, hurting her, makes me feel nearly feral with rage.
But I can’t expect her to be alone forever.
I close my eyes, willing sleep to come.
---
When I wake to the early morning sunlight coming through the window, Isabella is still asleep. She’s rolled onto her side, facing me, and she looks so beautiful that it makes my chest ache. I’m waking up next to my wife, something I’ve never had. The woman carrying my child. I think of the house back in Boston, the family my parents always wanted me to fill it with. I imagine showing it to Isabella, the grey-painted old Colonial I’d grown up in, and something twists inside of me.
I’d known my house was nothing grand, compared to places like the McGregor estate. Certainly, nothing compared to the mansion Isabella grew up in. It makes me feel like a fool to think of bringing her to a place like that and suggesting she should make it her home, and I look down at the topaz gemstone laying above her bare breasts.
She’d loved the necklace, simple as it is. She’d teared up in the church when I’d given it back to her.But a necklace and a home are two very different things.
