Reconciled for Easter

by Noelle Adams

  “You’re my wife,” he murmured. “I wanted to be ready for any possibility.”

  At another time, she might think this through and have some things to ponder about it. But she was too distracted to think deeply at the moment. Instead, she gazed at him hungrily as he fumbled with one of the packets and rolled on a condom before he moved toward her in bed again.

  She hooked the fingers of her good hand around the side of her panties, but Thomas stopped her before she could pull them off. “Leave them on.”

  For some reason, her desire surged forward at his thick words. She spread her legs, still wearing her bra, panties, and stockings. And Thomas positioned himself between her legs and reached to pull the lace aside so he could align himself at her entrance.

  He held himself still, just the tip of her erection nudging her wet flesh. And he stared down into her face. “Abigail, baby.”

  Her lips parted as she met his gaze, mesmerized by the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes.

  Then he pitched his hips forward, sinking into her, his length filling and stretching her.

  She was tighter than she’d expected—from having gone so long without sex. And she arched up instinctively at the intense feel of the penetration.

  “Oh fuck,” Thomas grunted, freezing about halfway in.

  Abigail whimpered and lifted her bottom in an attempt to complete the thrust.

  Thomas took a few raspy breaths and sank the rest of the way into her, propping himself above her on his forearms and closing his eyes.

  “Thomas!” she gasped, as the pressure of a new orgasm built up at the big, full, tight feeling of his hard flesh inside her.

  He grunted, his jaw tense and his body almost shaking with leashed energy.

  Since he wouldn’t move, Abigail rocked beneath him, riding him from below with an irresistible surge of desire and need.

  “Abigail,” Thomas choked out, still holding himself perfectly still.

  She knew he was trying to hold onto his control, but that only pushed her further out of control. She pumped her hips frantically, whimpering and panting as her body was washed with waves of heat.

  Thomas opened his eyes, and they held such barely restrained need that Abigail arched up dramatically, her whole body shaking as another orgasm crested inside her.

  Her eyes fell shut as she tried to muffle her cry of release with the fist of her good hand, vaguely conscious that Mia was asleep down the hall.

  She’d barely started to come down, her body softening with delicious satisfaction, when Thomas groaned and pulled out of her completely.

  Abigail blinked up at him. “What happened?”

  Thomas gave her a tight smile. “You came.” Taking a visible breath, he reached down and gave the base of his erection a few squeezes.

  “I know I came. Why did you—” She broke off as she took in his obvious tension and the slight shaking of his hands. Then she gave a huff of amusement. “Ah ha! I’m not the only eager one, I guess. After all of your smugness about my orgasms, you’re just as eager as I am.”

  “I never said I wasn’t eager.” He narrowed his eyes at her, although he was obviously not genuinely annoyed. “But I would have been just fine if you had given me a minute.”

  “I didn’t want to wait a minute. I wanted to come.”

  Thomas’s mouth quirked up. “Evidently.”

  Abigail couldn’t hold back a laugh. She reached up with her left arm in invitation. “Come here, Thomas. I think it’s time for you to come too.”

  He returned her smile and then lined himself back up at her entrance. This time, when he slid himself in, he didn’t pause or hesitate.

  Her two other orgasms had taken the edge off her desire, so Abigail was able to lie still beneath him and adjust to the penetration as he held himself on his forearms and closed his eyes again. They lay together like that for a minute, until Thomas leaned down to kiss her once more.

  She responded immediately, loving the feel of his lips against hers, his tongue moving with hers, his flesh sheathed in hers.

  Then he finally pulled away, straightening his arms to lift his chest up from hers. He pulled his pelvis back and stroked in.

  With her good arm, Abigail clutched at his shoulder and neck, digging her fingers into his skin as the sensations built inside her. She rocked her hips in time with his, falling into a pleasing, natural rhythm.

  “So good,” Thomas rasped, his features tight and his eyes hot and hungry. “So sweet, baby. So good.”

  Abigail whimpered in response, her body jiggling as she pumped up to meet each of his thrusts. After a few minutes, another orgasm tightened at her center, and she twisted and arched against the sensations.

  “Fuck, baby.” Thomas jerked his head to the side and froze inside her for a minute as her channel started to tighten around his erection.

  She bucked and writhed, trying to chase the pleasure. “Thomas, Thomas, gonna come.” She’d never orgasmed three times so close together, so she was vaguely astonished at the sensations.

  Thomas made an uncontrolled sound in his throat, and then his pelvis jerked roughly against her as his body tensed palpably.

  Abigail was on the edge of climax as she saw Thomas’s face twist with a sudden rush of pleasure. “Abigail!” he choked as his body shuddered with his release.

  He kept pumping his hips, moving inside her, even as he came, and she squeezed her hand down to frantically rub her clit.

  The massage combined with his clumsy, primal thrusts and the thrill of watching him lose control all worked together to push her over the edge. She sobbed out her waves of pleasure as her body convulsed and her inner muscles clamped down around Thomas inside her.

  Thomas’s elbows buckled but he caught himself before his weight collapsed on top of her. He was soaked with sweat now, but his face was relaxed and his eyes rich with satisfaction. He eased himself out, holding the condom in place, and then rolled over onto his back beside her.

  Abigail felt incredibly good—tired, but warm and sated and remarkably pleased with herself. She laughed breathlessly as she turned to look at Thomas.

  “Don’t say it,” he said dryly.

  She laughed even harder, feeling oddly giddy as afterglow kept reality at bay. “I didn’t say a thing.”

  “You know, I’ve had just as long a dry spell as you, but I held out long enough,” he said, arching his eyebrows at her in an attempt at his smug look.

  “Barely.”

  When he sneered, she felt a ridiculous wave of affection and leaned over to kiss him on the jaw. “It was great. You were great.”

  “Thanks. I could have been better, but with three orgasms you did pretty well for yourself.”

  She recognized amusement in his eyes and perhaps a little glint of embarrassment. “True. I’m definitely not complaining. As long as we both recognize that I’m not the only one ready to come at the drop of a hat.”

  He snorted. “Duly noted.”

  With a faint look of disgust down at the condom he still held, he murmured, “I’ve got to take care of this.” He rolled off the bed and paced to the bathroom.

  Abigail admired the view of his straight back, lean flanks, and bare butt. Although she cringed in slight embarrassment at the red scratches on his skin from where she’d dug her nails in with shameless enthusiasm.

  Her body felt wonderful, but little prickles of confusion and anxiety started to force their way into her consciousness.

  She’d just had sex with her husband. And it didn’t feel angsty or awkward. It had felt perfectly natural, perfectly right, almost more free of self-consciousness than they’d been when they were together before.

  But nothing else about their relationship was perfectly natural and right.

  Thomas didn’t look troubled as he returned from the bathroom and leaned over to grab and pull on his boxers. He looked tired, and he must have just splashed water on his face. But he smiled at her as he caught her staring.

  “Can y
ou grab me something to put on?” she asked, feeling too comfortable to move yet. “From the top drawer there?”

  He brought her back a knit cotton nightgown, which she pulled over her head. Then she saw his questioning look and understood it.

  She swallowed. “You can sleep with me if you want.”

  “It’s up to you.”

  He was still handsome as he stood next to her bed in just his boxers, his body toned and his features finely sculpted. But he appeared unexpectedly young, vulnerable, and just slightly uncertain.

  Abigail’s chest clenched. “Sleep with me tonight.”

  Without a word, he climbed under the covers with her. He made a move as if he would pull her against him but hesitated. She shifted, closing the gap between them, and she managed to settle herself at his side in a way that wasn’t awkward for her broken arm.

  He was Thomas. He looked like Thomas, smelled like Thomas, sounded like Thomas.

  He looked and smelled and sounded like her husband.

  But something about him now didn’t feel like Thomas—at least not the husband she’d always been married to.

  “I’m tired,” she whispered, hating the thought of the discussion she knew was waiting for them.

  “I know,” he murmured, gently stroking her hair. “So am I. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Abigail released a long breath and let her body relax, enjoying the afterglow of her orgasms and pushing aside her anxieties for the time being.

  She liked the way his arm was wrapped around her, holding her almost protectively.

  She’d always felt protected with Thomas.

  Leaving that protection had been one of the hardest things about leaving him.

  ***

  When she woke up, her arm felt stiff and her cheek was brutally hot. It only took her a minute to figure out why.

  Her face was pressed against the bare skin of Thomas’s chest and her left arm was folded awkwardly beneath her.

  She smacked her lips, her mouth feeling rather dry. And she managed to lift her head, the skin of her cheek clinging to Thomas’s chest as she pulled away.

  A glance at Thomas’s face revealed him to already be awake. He looked at her quietly, his eyes unreadable in the dim room.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Hi.”

  “I didn’t expect this to happen.” She adjusted onto her side so she wouldn’t have to sit up.

  “Didn’t you?” His tone held no particular resonance so it was nearly impossible to figure out what he was thinking.

  “No. I mean, I hadn’t thought…”

  “I had.”

  She gasped audibly, clenching her left hand. “Wh—what?”

  His green eyes were still quiet, but they held hers with unwavering intensity. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time. I’ve never stopped hoping it would happen. I don’t want to wait until our six months are over. I want to try again now.”

  He said it so directly, so soon after waking up, that he must have been steeling himself to get it said.

  “What?” she gasped, sitting up in bed and staring at Thomas, who was stretched out beside her. Thomas—who had just said what he’d said.

  “You heard me. I don’t want to wait. I want to try again. Right now.”

  Abigail gulped, forcing back a surge of excitement and emotion and bone-deep fear. “I know you want to save the marriage, but that’s not—”

  “It’s not just about saving the marriage, Abigail. It’s about you. I want you. I love you. I’ve never stopped.”

  The words fed something deep in her heart, but they caused a familiar panic to well up at the same time.

  She couldn’t be foolish. She couldn’t melt into compliance just because she wanted so much to be loved by him. She’d done that before, and their marriage simply hadn’t worked. It wasn’t likely to work now any better unless they were both genuinely hearing each other, understanding each other, in a way they hadn’t done before. “It’s not that easy to just jump back. Not after everything that has happened.”

  He leaned forward and grabbed her upper arm in his urgency—but the tightness of his fingers was passion rather than force. “I know. Abigail, I know that. I don’t want to jump back. I don’t want the marriage we had before. I want a better marriage and family. I think we can do it.”

  She had absolutely no idea what to say, but she was on the verge of tears.

  Thomas cleared his throat, obviously horribly uncomfortable now that he was in the position of baring his soul—even though he was the one who had initiated it. But he pressed on, “I know all the mistakes I made during our marriage. You have no idea how often I’ve rehashed them over the last months. When you left me, I was...devastated. I was angry and I felt betrayed. You know I didn’t want it to happen, and I didn’t understand it at all. I didn’t understand you. I didn’t even really try. I was only thinking about myself—what I thought I needed and what I expected from you. It took me a long time to get through that. But I’ve been working on it—with God, with myself—and I finally realized over Christmas that the only way to get my family back was to change, to be the husband and father you and Mia need. I know how much I hurt you and betrayed any trust you ever had in me. I knew it would take time. That’s why I haven’t been pushing things lately—so we both had the time we needed. But I hope I’ve been showing you that I’ll do better this time.”

  It was a long declaration and a naked one. She knew how vulnerable he would feel, even if she hadn’t seen the obvious discomfort in his expression. Despite her fear and confusion, she didn’t want to hurt him.

  So she took a minute to control her initial reaction—which was to scream at him and burst into tears. Then, “I know how you’ve changed, Thomas. It’s…you’ve been amazing. You are amazing. But that doesn’t mean—”

  “I love you, Abigail,” Thomas said hoarsely. “And I think you still love me too.”

  She was slammed with waves of confusion, guilt, and fear, and she had to get up off the bed to get her bearings. “But that doesn’t change everything that’s happened between us or the problems we still need to work through.”

  Thomas stood up too, so he was facing her. And his expression now was set, almost stubborn. “I know what happened between us as well as you do. But we both believe that God can change people and he can heal relationships. The past can be overcome, and I’m not the only one who needed this time we took to figure things out.”

  “I know that. That’s the point. I made so many mistakes too. I was always insecure and never felt good enough. We were a mess together, and now we need to be so careful. Jumping into this too quickly might end up hurting us both—and hurting Mia.”

  Thomas reached out for her again, taking hold of her left shoulder. “Abigail, I love y—”

  “Please,” she interrupted, too loudly. “Please don’t push. I’m not saying no. I promise I’m not. I’m just saying I don’t know yet. We can’t rush this.”

  She felt that deep, familiar exhaustion at the idea of plunging headlong into all the old pain of their marriage.

  “I know. But we’ve had a break, and now it feels like something has changed between us. I don’t know why we can’t deal with it now.” His eyes were urgent, searching, absolutely terrifying. “You don’t have to decide anything until you’re ready. But I’m not going to stop loving you, and I’m not going to go away.”

  She was shaking with emotion, trying to figure out what was happening, what she wanted to happen, when she glanced at the clock and saw it was after seven-thirty. “Oh no,” she muttered, feeling another wave of panic, this one less overwhelming. “Mia.”

  Without another word to Thomas, she hurried out of the bedroom, still wearing her gown and messy hair. Mia was nearly always awake by this time, and they’d been talking far too loudly, even with the door closed.

  Abigail’s fears were confirmed when she heard a familiar sound from Mia’s room. With a gurgle in her throat, Abigail
ran the rest of the way down the hall, nearly leveled with guilt at the sound of her daughter crying.

  “Mia,” she said, hurrying in to find Mia huddled on her bed, her little body shaking as she sobbed. “It’s all right. Sweetie, you don’t have to cry.”

  Mia lifted her head. Her hair was a tangled mess and her glasses were laying on the mattress beside her. She reached her arms up to Abigail. “Mommy.”

  Abigail had to stifle a sob herself as she gathered the girl into a tight, one-armed hug. “Sweetie, I’m sorry you’re so upset. Everything’s all right.”

  “But you and Daddy are having a bad fight,” Mia choked. “I heard you.”

  Rocking her daughter against her, Abigail said, “We were having a serious discussion and disagreeing about some things, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  Mia clung to Abigail desperately and said, her voice muffled by Abigail’s nightgown, “I thought you didn’t fight with Daddy anymore.”

  Abigail’s chest hurt so much she could barely stand it. And she hated herself for letting the girl overhear the conversation with Thomas, for not having the sense to stop it before it became so intense.

  Taking a few deep breaths, Abigail made herself calm down and think of the best way to handle this. “Me and Daddy used to fight a lot, didn’t we?”

  This question must have surprised Mia. Her shuddering diminished slightly and she raised her head to peer up into Abigail’s face. She nodded soberly.

  “We get along better now. But occasionally even grown-ups disagree about things. We’re not really mad at each other this time, though.”

  Mia sniffed. “Really? Daddy’s not going to go away?”

  Abigail managed to overcome a flare of anxiety to say gently, “He’s going to go back to his own house pretty soon, but he’s going to be around just like he was before.”

  “Oh.” Mia’s angst seemed to have eased some at her mother’s presence and reassurance, and she wiped her eyes on her forearms and reached to put her glasses back on. “I was hoping he might live with us for good.”

  “Mia,” Abigail murmured, “We talked about this. Remember? Daddy was only staying with us until I was better.”