by Noelle Adams
He was hard. Deliciously hard beneath her hand. Her breathing accelerated as she stared at her fingers against his chest.
He was breathing faster too. He looked down at how she was touching him.
“Being married, I mean,” she managed to explain, so he wouldn’t think she’d been talking about anything else.
“Yeah.” His voice was slightly abrupt, and so was his touch as he removed her hand from his body. “No one said marriage was easy.” He turned his back on her to pick up his mug of coffee. It must be lukewarm by now.
She blinked at his back, since it had felt like they were about to make a connection—come to a real understanding—and he’d suddenly pulled away from it. “I know it’s not easy,” she began. “I think we can make it work if we both try. I’m sorry that I—”
“It’s fine,” he said gruffly, still not looking at her. “I’ve got to go get dressed.”
He started to leave the kitchen as she stared at his retreating back. “But, Gabe,” she said, feeling ludicrously disappointed. “I think we need to talk about—”
“We will. Later.”
Then he was gone, heading up the stairs. Quickly.
And she was left in the kitchen by herself, with a lot of things she wanted to say about how they could work on their marriage.
And a lot of things she wanted to do—with him—that she wasn’t able to do.
***
Lydia felt weird and awkward for the rest of the day. She went to shower—taking a longer one than normal—and came down to breakfast with the resolve to be particularly nice and patient.
She couldn’t control how Gabe acted, but she could control how she acted, and she was going to try to make this marriage work.
They had breakfast with Ellie, who looked at both of them suspiciously and finally asked if they were fighting—which both of them vehemently denied.
Then Lydia was purposefully cheerful about their plans for the day—which included Gabe working, Ellie reading and writing in his office with him, and Lydia going to help her parents clean out their basement.
Gabe seemed basically normal after that morning, but it still felt like they hadn’t quite worked things out.
It grated on her. That he’d pulled away when they could have come to a better understanding. She was still thinking about it after she took a bath that evening and got into bed.
She was sure she could control the lust—that was a physical response and was probably heightened because she’d never been in such close quarters with a man before. But they had to work out how they would function together if they were going to make this marriage work.
Finally, she couldn’t relax until she took a proactive step, so she got out of bed and headed to his room. She could see the light was still on from the crack at the bottom of the door, so she assumed he was still awake.
She knocked on the door.
She gave a little gasp when it swung open in about thirty seconds and Gabe stood in the doorway, dressed only in a pair of boxers.
She gulped—afraid it was audible but unable to stop herself. She was hit once again with that wave of visceral attraction, the likes of which she’d never experienced before.
“Sorry,” she managed to say. “I didn’t think…I mean, I thought you weren’t in bed yet. The light was on.”
“I was about to get in bed.” His eyes slid down her body, taking in her soft pajama pants and tank top and lingering on where one of the straps was slipping down her shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to…I felt like we didn’t quite finish our conversation this morning. About getting along, I mean. And it was bugging me. I really want this marriage to work.”
“I do too.” Something had tightened in his body, in his expression. “And we can talk about it. But not now.”
She frowned. “Why not now?”
His voice was deliciously thick as he said, “Because you’re not wearing many clothes right now, and it’s very distracting.”
She glanced down at herself in faint surprise and then up at him. She suddenly realized that the tension she sensed in him was arousal.
Arousal. He was aroused. By her.
A thrill of excitement, pleasure, and satisfaction washed over her with this knowledge.
It was a relief. And felt right. That he was attracted to her too.
“Oh,” she said, realizing he was waiting for her to reply. “Sorry. I didn’t….”
“I know you didn’t realize it. I’m sorry we can’t talk now. But I want to respect your wishes about not having sex, and that means I have to walk away when I’m getting too…” He cleared his throat and glanced away from her. “Turned on.”
“Oh.” She sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly swept with the same kind of hunger she’d felt that morning. He was wearing almost nothing. And he was big and warm and masculine and strong. And Gabe. “Well maybe…” She trailed off again, although she’d always considered herself quite articulate in the past.
His eyes shot back to her face. “Maybe what?”
“Maybe sex isn’t a problem. I mean, maybe we can reconsider. After all, we’re married—”
Gabe didn’t even bother trying to respond with words. He just pushed the door shut behind her and closed the small gap between them, his handsome, strained face leaning in toward hers.
If she had thought about it, Lydia would have expected him to be slow and gentle at first, had thought he might try to ease them into this—since it was the first time they were together, and she was entirely new to this. But his mouth and hands were immediately hot, hungry, and needy, and as he moved his mouth roughly over hers, he clutched her almost painfully.
But, somehow, it was exactly what she wanted. She responded, feeling an answering hunger spring up in her own body. She pressed herself against him, clawed at his back, opened her mouth to his seeking tongue and then tried to outmaneuver it with her own.
When he finally lowered his lips from her mouth to her neck, Lydia was breathless and unsteady. Gasping, she heard herself whispering, “Gabe.” As if his name had some sort of power in this room. Her heart was still drumming painfully, and she thought she could feel an answering rhythm from him as her breasts pressed into his chest.
His hands were stroking her back. Then lower, cupping her butt. And he was pushing her pelvis against his. Rocking his already full erection into her rhythmically.
And it was all happening so fast. She’d expected a little more preparation time. Lydia felt a stirring of anxiety, but the need she felt far outweighed it.
She let her head fall back, in an attempt to suck in some air without breathing in his heat and body. “I’m not on birth control,” she panted, trying to pull herself together.
“I’ve got condoms.” Gabe might have been trying to rein himself in, but he wasn’t doing a very good job. He bent over and lowered his face to the deep neckline of her tank top, licked the line down her cleavage.
She groaned as he lifted a hand to cup her over her shirt, her head falling back again, but this time involuntarily. She could feel arousal building between her legs, could hardly believe this was happening.
Feeling her legs shaking a little, she still managed to ask, “Why do you have condoms?”
The hands that had been fondling her breasts moved down to grab the bottom of her top. Then he lifted it up over her head. Lydia had to release her hold on him in order to get it off all the way. “I was hoping you’d change your mind,” he admitted, slightly wry, even as he stared at her naked torso hungrily.
For some reason, his answer filled her with affection. Without thinking, she reached up and took his face in her hands to pull him down into another deep kiss.
Even though she had initiated the kiss, Gabe's urgency soon took over. It felt like he was drinking her in, swallowing her down whole. His mouth was ravenous and merciless. But Lydia didn’t mind. She felt the same way too, and more so when he slid down her pajama pants and underwear, lea
ving her naked.
She thought she would have wanted to go slow, but she didn’t. Her nipples were hard already, and they chafed deliciously against his firm body. “Gabe,” she gasped, when she turned her head aside to breathe. “I want you so much.”
“I want you too.” His arousal was pushing into her now more insistently, and each time he thrust against her, her inner muscles clenched possessively.
She realized it was true. He really, really wanted her—in some sort of primal way.
With his hands on her hips, he lifted her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. This move brought her hot center into contact with his belly, and she rubbed herself against him shamelessly.
He moaned as she moved against him, and then he pushed her hips into him more tightly. He pressed his face into her hair. “Fuck, you’re amazing, Lydia.”
She wasn’t in the habit of using or hearing such language, but it felt natural to hear it in this context, for some reason, and the sentiment filled her chest even more fully.
He walked them both over to the bed and then bent over to lay her down. He gazed at her for a minute as she sprawled naked on the bed and waited for him.
His gaze was so intent and so deep that she started to squirm. Smiling at him awkwardly, she said, “You’re the one who’s done this before. I hope you know what happens next.”
He released a short burst of amusement and slid down his underwear. As she saw him strip, Lydia felt a lump of fear reemerge in her throat. In this lull from the momentum of desire, she realized what was happening.
She was going to have sex. With her husband. For the first time.
She was going to have sex with Gabe.
She closed her eyes momentarily to process this shift. When she opened them, Gabe was naked in front of her, his erection hard and prominent, almost at the level of her eyes.
Her eyes widened as she stared at him, and she even felt her mouth fall open a little. Then she shifted her gaze up to Gabe’s amused face. “Something wrong?” he asked dryly.
Lydia gulped. “Not a thing. I’m game if you are.”
He laughed. “I’m definitely game.”
He joined her on the bed, moving over her, his body fitting against hers in a way that felt strangely natural. He kissed her again. Traced his hands urgently over her body. Ended up slipping his fingers between her legs, testing to see if she was ready for him.
She was ready.
Just before he started nudging her legs farther apart, he shook his head roughly and muttered, “Condom.”
He reached into the drawer of the nightstand to grab one, and he tore it open clumsily and then fumbled a bit as he rolled it on.
Then he was with her again, moving over her, parting her legs to make room for his body.
After kissing her, his teeth nipping her lower lip, he asked huskily, “Are you sure about this?”
Lydia reached up and splayed her hands out against the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. He was supporting himself on his forearms, and his upper body was so close to hers that their chests were brushing against each other. “I’m sure. I haven’t done this before, but I know what I’m doing. So just get going.”
Gabe got going.
He entered her slowly, carefully, his hand shaking slightly as he lined himself up. He felt big and firm and too tight, but her body stretched and moved to accommodate him.
She’d heard it might hurt, but it didn’t. Not really. It was just so tight she was panting loudly in response.
Gabe had his eyes squeezed shut, and she suddenly realized that he was trying to retain his control. She waited silently, without moving, until he opened his eyes and gazed down at her.
“Okay?” he asked briefly, a battle going on in his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really. Kind of uncomfortable.” She took a deep breath. “It will get better.” She rocked her hips up into him a little, testing out the sensations.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” he said thickly, turning his head as he struggled to control himself.
It must have been a long time for him—if he hadn’t had sex since he got divorced.
“I’m ready,” she said, the feelings adjusting so that, while still a little uncomfortable, there was something else compelling her to move.
He started to thrust, trying so hard to remain slow and steady that he was actually shaking. She pumped her hips up to meet him every time he sank deep into her, and it took a minute or two for them to establish a rhythm.
“Yeah,” she breathed, when they started to move in sync. “That’s…kind of…good.”
He made a huffing sound, his hot eyes never leaving her face and body.
She felt little bursts of pleasure with each stroke, and her body began to tune itself into their pattern. Soon her motion was instinctive, automatic, an innate drive toward release and completion. She suddenly wondered if she might even be able to come, although that was never in her expectations for her first time.
She just needed a little more time.
But time was something Gabe didn’t have. He was already sweating profusely, and his eyes were almost glazed over in his struggle to not lose control. “Lydia. Fuck, I can’t…”
“It’s good,” she said. “Let go.”
She didn’t know if Gabe made a conscious decision in response to her words, or if he simply lost the remaining shreds of his self-restraint. But the steady rhythm he’d been holding abruptly fell apart, and he started driving into her harder, faster.
Little whimpers started forcing their way from her throat, but they were from pleasure as much as from effort. It was still good, although now she believed it would be over before she could reach orgasm.
It was fine. It was still good. She watched Gabe's face as her body moved with his. Saw how much he needed this. Thrilled at the reality of it.
“Lydia,” Gabe ground out, his face so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Can’t hold back…much longer.” He moved his arms until his forearms were under her neck. Then he adjusted his knees, so that he could get more leverage to thrust.
“Don’t hold back,” she choked, feeling an orgasm starting to build but knowing it would be too slow. “Come, Gabe.” She clutched at his back, loving how real and solid he felt under her hands. “I want you to come.” Her whole body was jostled by the momentum of every thrust, and the bed beneath them was squeaking just a little.
He let out a frustrated groan and tried to slow himself down, but she tightened around him purposefully until he fell out of rhythm. His eyes were closed again, and his incoherent grunts were hot and primitive.
Lydia had never felt so powerful. So desired. So needed. She shuddered with delight--from the impact of this knowledge as much as from the friction inside of her. “It’s good, Gabe,” she gasped. “It’s so good.”
He gave a few final pushes inside her, then bit out her name as he froze with his climax. Then she felt the tighter spasms of his release inside her. Saw raw, naked pleasure replace the frustrated hunger and effort on his face.
He collapsed on top of her when the contractions finally ceased, the whole weight of his body all at once pushing her into the mattress. It was a little uncomfortable, but it was also so good. She tightened her arms around him and held him as close to her as she could make him.
Neither one spoke for a long stretch of time, until his weight finally became too much for her. She shifted a little, and Gabe immediately reacted. Raised himself up and gently, very carefully pulled out of her, taking care with the condom.
Then he flopped down beside her again and gave her a wry look.
“Surely you didn’t expect me to come too,” she said with a little smile.
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s been known to happen.”
She laughed softly. “It was my first time. I really enjoyed it. I had no unrealistic expectations.”
“I’m not sure they
were unrealistic.”
“If you say so.” She was still smiling when he rolled over closer to her. She loved how soft and relaxed he looked now. “What are you doing?”
“Proving a point,” he murmured, just before he kissed her. The kiss was slow, without the urgency of before. Then he moved lower, lavishing leisurely attention on her body with his mouth and hands. He spent a while on her neck and shoulders before finally descending to her breasts.
His mouth was creative and skillful as he suckled one of her nipples, and she was soon wriggling and pushing up against him. “I think you can move on,” she gasped.
“To where?” he teased, raising his head to look down at her with an amused glint she’d only seen occasionally in his face.
“You know where.” She was having to fight not to squirm, since she was so aroused.
“You could tell me.”
Feeling a matching teasing, she wasn’t going to cave so easily. Instead, she brought his hand down from one of her breasts and settled it between her legs.
He chuckled and slipped the hand between her thighs, and his fingers teased her open. “Is this what you want?” Sinking one finger inside her, he pumped it in and out experimentally. When she bucked up at the jolt of pleasure, a second finger joined the first.
“Oh, yeah,” she gasped, feeling the semi-halted momentum of her earlier interrupted arousal returning with his skillful stimulation. As he thrust his fingers into her, angling them in exactly the right way, she started rocking her hips into the motion.
His mouth latched onto one of her breasts, and his free hand moved to the curves of her butt to help guide the motion of her pelvis. Lydia grabbed at his head and held it down to her chest, feeling the multiple pleasures coming together.
“Oh, Gabe, please don’t stop.” She was now jerking just as erratically as Gabe had been earlier. She was so close, almost there, started making helpless little sounds in time with his pumping.
Then he moved his other hand from her butt. Slid it forward toward where his fingers were sliding in and out of her. Massaged her for only a moment, pushing her over the edge.
She opened her mouth in a silent exclamation of pleasure as her body spasmed around his fingers, and one of her legs twitched so much that she accidentally clobbered him in the hip with her knee. “Sorry,” she gasped, as the contractions started to ease. Her body was trembling, but she felt a wash of pure satisfaction.
