by Serena Grey
I set the table in the kitchen. After we eat, David gives me another long kiss before disappearing into his study. Confused, I wonder if all my days are going to be spent like this, waiting for him to come home to make love to me, and staying out of his way when he wants to work. I may not have a lot of experience, but I’m sure there should be a lot more intimacy in a marriage.
It’s not as if I blame him for working, but we’re supposed to be on our honeymoon. I understand that with the rushed wedding, there would have been little time to arrange his schedule to put a trip together. But it’s not even a trip I want. I want him. I want him to be mine the way I’ve surrendered to being his. I don’t want to be like Psyche, wandering all day around a beautiful house, with a husband I don’t know, who only comes to make love to me in the dark.
I’m still awake when he comes into our bedroom. I watch him as he comes to sit on the bed. I’m trying to find the words to tell him how I feel without seeming needy. I’ve told him my feelings once, and the only answer he gave me was silence. I don’t know if I can expect anything better this time.
“You left so early this morning.” I say finally, when the silence becomes too much.
“I always leave early.” His tone is dismissive.
That was before you had a wife. I want to say, but I bite the words back. I understand that he has to work hard. You don’t get to have the things he does at his age by being laid back, but I need to know that I’m not just a warm body he comes to at night. I think of all the things I want to tell him. That I was lonely without him, bored, wishing he was here. That we’re newlyweds, supposed to be spending this time together.
“You were gone all day.” I say instead, my voice low.
He sighs tiredly, “Sophie, maybe in your imagination being married means spending every single moment together, but real life isn’t a fantasy, I have a business to run.” His voice is harsh, and I flinch, unable to hide my pain and surprise.
“I was just...” I stop, unsure what to say.
He turns to look at me. Something in my face seems to get to him. “I had a hard day Sophie, I was incredibly busy.” He explains, before getting up and going to the bathroom.
I frown at my hands on my lap. I’ve told him that I loved him, and he said nothing. I’m telling him I’d like to spent more time with him, and his response is to treat me as if I don’t know what I’m talking about. Hurt, I lie back on the bed and turn on my stomach. I hate that I feel like crying. I’ve lied to Stacey, I realize, I’m not happy. I’m afraid. I have a husband who can set my body on fire with just one look, and who is everything to me, but has no desire to be close to me, or to let me get close to him.
I feel him return and slide into the bed beside me, but I don’t look up. I try not to react to the warmth of his skin as it touches mine. I try to stay still as he runs a hand gently down my back. When he raises the thigh length t-shirt I’m wearing and spreads my legs, I bite my lip to keep from moaning. The thought that this is all he wants from me is painful. I want to be angry with him, not to respond to what he’s doing, but already I’m eager, wanting him so much that it’s an intense throbbing ache that needs to be filled.
My resistance lasts until he dips his head between my legs, and starts to lick me, his tongue moving rapidly, swirling round and round my sensitive core until I am breathless and gasping, moaning his name. At the back of my mind, I accept that I need more than this from him, but for now, I don’t care. I’m too lost in the pleasure.
I let out a long moan, and he grips my thighs tightly so that I can’t move. My fingers dig into the pillow. Imprisoned between his hands and his tongue, I surrender myself to the exquisite pleasure. He teases me to a frenzy until I reach a shattering climax, crying out my pleasure as my hips jerk wildly against his delicious tongue.
Afterwards, while my body is still shuddering with the aftershocks of my climax, I run my fingers down his chest. He lies back on the bed, watching me through half closed eyes as I explore his body. I watch his face, eager to see the signs that I’m pleasing him.
My fingers travel down over his belly, until they close around him. I marvel at the hardness encased in the soft skin, like steel under silk. He feels warm, strong and powerful, I stroke him with eager fingers, loving the feeling. His breathing changes, becoming faster and more ragged, encouraged, I bend my head and take him into my mouth.
He groans, and his hips move, grinding a little. Instinctively, I take him deeper, running my tongue over his swollen tip, and then allowing him to slide further inside my mouth. He tastes of skin, of salt, and a flavor that is all him. I steal a look at his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted. He likes it. I purse my lips and suck on him, moving my head, so he goes slowly in and out of my mouth.
“Sophie.” His groan is deep and raspy, the pleasure in his voice makes me feel powerful and sexy... all woman. I suck harder, feeling him grow harder in my mouth as his hands run feverishly through my hair, but I don’t stop. In every other way, I already feel powerless, but in this, I want to see him lose control of himself.
He doesn’t give me the chance. He rises from the bed, moving faster than I could have anticipated, and lifts me, pulling me forward until my hips are poised over his erection. Then, with his hands on my waist, he guides me down slowly until I’m completely filled with him. I moan at the exquisite sensation of him inside me. My whole body is tingling. I forget everything but what he’s doing to me. I want this, I want this so much.
Even though I am on top, he defines our movements, guiding my hips as he grinds his, stroking my sensitive insides with each deep thrust.
My body starts to shake. I’m moaning incoherently, crying out his name over and over. He quickens his pace, thrusting faster, until his body stiffens, and he groans, exploding into me in a warm surge. At the same moment, I shout his name one final time, and then collapse onto his chest.
Chapter Four
THE NEXT MORNING, WHEN I WAKE up to find myself alone on the bed, my first thought is that David has left for work again. I feel a little depressed until I hear him in the dressing room. It’s embarrassing how relieved I am when I see him standing there almost fully dressed, putting on his cufflinks. I lean on the doorframe, watching him as he concentrates on fastening the links.
“Good morning.” I say softly, my heart constricting with longing as I look at him. Watching him makes me feel happy and sad at the same time, happy that he’s mine, and sad because, somehow, I know he doesn’t truly belong to me.
He looks up at me, “Good morning Sophie.” He says, finishing with the links. There’s a tie hanging loosely around his neck, and his fingers move to knot it.
I don’t want to rehash our conversation of last night, but I don’t want to spend the whole day missing him either. “I wish you wouldn’t leave so early,” I say.
He walks away from me, towards the mirror. In the face of his silence, I start to wish I hadn’t said anything. I watch as he starts to knot his tie.
“I know you’re really busy...” I start.
He turns to me. The expression on his face is one of sincere apology. “I’m sorry Sophie,” he says, “Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ve had to deal with certain issues at work which were there even before I met you.” He stops, “but that’s no excuse.”
I walk across the room to him, “I understand, really. I’m not complaining, I just wish we had a little more time for us.” I look at his face as I say the word, ‘Us’. That’s what’s important to me. I want us to be a success. I want this to last. I don’t want to be a short statistic in his life. The thought of not being with him fills me with a sad sort of desperation.
He raises one of his hands, tracing a finger across my lips. “Things will clear up soon,” he assures me, “and then I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll go somewhere that will blow your mind.”
I smile, excited as much by his promise as his touch. “You blow my mind.” I whisper.
He smiles and moves his finger
from my lips to my chin, lifting it up, so I’m looking into his eyes. My lips tingle, waiting for his kiss, but he doesn’t make any move to touch me.
I lift myself unto my toes and touch my lips to his. He kisses me back, his brow furrowing in surprise when I gently push him away, running my hands down the front of his shirt. He watches me as my hands move down. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I want to show him how much I want him. I want to finish what I started last night.
I drop to my knees on the soft carpet in front of him, stroking him through his trousers, and feeling him harden and push against my palm. I loosen his belt and undo his zipper, reaching in to pull down his briefs just enough for him to spring free, hard, rigid, and eager.
Immediately I cover the head with my lips. I feel him stiffen, but I don’t look up. I suck on the tip, pulling him deeper with my lips and stroking him with my tongue. His fingers tangle in my hair, and I hear him groan softly.
I love this. I love the feel, the smell, the warmth of him. I move my head slowly, letting him go in and out of my mouth while I suck deeply. He groans again, and the sound of his arousal causes a warm, insistent need to start in my core, and spread till my whole body is suffused with my desire for him.
I take him in as deeply as I can, he moans, and his hands stiffen in my hair, moving my head in the rhythm that he wants, as he starts to grind into my mouth. I tighten my lips around him, sucking him in as he grinds faster. There is something so erotic about what we’re doing. A small moan escapes my lips. The sound does something to him, and his whole body stiffens, the muscles of his hips tightening under my hands, then he jerks forward and with a loud groan, comes into my mouth.
I swallow quickly, I can’t believe what I’ve just done, but I’d do it again and again. He slips out of my mouth, his body shuddering. His breathing is deep and heavy as he comes down on his knees beside me.
“You’re a bag of surprises, aren’t you?” he says huskily, moments before his lips descend on mine as his fingers find my wet arousal under my t-shirt.
I’m already so hot for him, I moan as his fingers stroke me.
“You’re ready for me.” His whisper is warm against my mouth.
“Hmm.” I nod, I’m so ready.
His fingers rub me until I have to hold on to him to steady myself, but he doesn’t stop slipping them in and out of me until I’m squirming wildly, begging him to give me more. Suddenly, he turns me around and enters me from behind.
I bend forward, my hands on the floor as he thrusts into me. He is so incredibly hard, so sweet, so fast. I can’t catch my breath. I’m already so far gone when his fingers find my nipples under my shirt, and start to tease them, I explode into a million pieces of pure pleasure, screaming my release in a garbled version of his name.
He pulls out of me, still hard, and turns me around until I am lying on my back and he is still kneeling, poised in front of me. He lifts my legs, raising them around his hips, and enters me again. My body tightens around him, unraveling as he starts to move again. He doesn’t stop until we both climax, and he collapses on the rug beside me.
Later, while I’m still trying to catch my breath, he gets up and starts to adjust his clothes.
I watch him through a haze of sexual fulfillment. “Have I made you late for work?”
“Not really.” His movements are swift as he knots his tie and pulls his trousers back up. It looks like he has already pushed me to the back of his mind. I watch him silently.
“I’ve asked Linda to make a few appointments for you.” He says suddenly.
“What kind of appointments?” I frown, I would never admit it to him, but Linda Mays, his assistant, with her glossy black hair, and her skirts that put the ‘p’ in pencil, intimidates me to heaven and back.
“Things to do with clothes, and shopping, and other stuff you need.” He gives me a hand up, dropping a kiss on my nose. “Linda will tell you all about it.” His eyes go to my side of the dressing room, which is still sadly sparse.
“Okay.” I’m sure I should be more excited about shopping, but there are things I want more than new clothes, to be closer to him, for one.
My day progresses much better than the day before. The new tablet and smartphone arrive only about an hour after David leaves. The note in the package says ‘Some toys you can play with while I’m gone.’ Even though I find it unsatisfactory that he’s trying to take away my loneliness at his absence by buying me electronic gadgets, I fall in love with them immediately.
They’re both already programmed, the phone with David’s mobile and office numbers, and the tablet with a couple of apps, books, and internet access. At first, I stumble a little with the tablet, but then I find that it’s much like using a computer.
Linda has arranged multiple appointments. She calls me in the morning, sounding incredibly busy and efficient as she tells me she had sent my schedule to my new phone. It would be funny if not that as soon as I cut the connection I see the updates to my calendar. There’s a hairdresser, in fact, a beauty team, with hairs, nails, and makeup people, and a personal shopper too. I’m stupefied.
The beauty team arrives before noon. I get my hair cut and styled by a hilariously funny French man called Jasper, who calls Mrs. Daniels ‘my love’, causing her to blush to the roots of her silver hair. My nails are fixed to perfection, and the makeup artist, a fierce looking girl with purple hair and a lip ring, spends nearly an hour making me up to look as if I’m not wearing any makeup. She leads me through it, finally leaving me with the products that ‘fit my complexion’.
After they leave, I get a visit from the personal shopper, a petite but lively girl in her twenties. Her name is Reiko Nakano, she tells me, eagerly shaking my hand. I can’t help staring at her. She’s incredibly beautiful in an unusual, exotic way, with grey almond eyes, tilted upwards at the corners, pale skin, and straight, waist-length black hair with deep scarlet streaks.
She talks non-stop as she shows me the samples she’s brought based on Linda’s description of me. I soon discover that her father is a Japanese-American heart surgeon, and her mother is a Spanish jewelry designer. She chatters without pause for almost thirty minutes, but I don’t mind, in fact, I like it.
“My father wanted me to be a doctor,” She tells me, as she shows me another beautiful outfit, “so I went to pre-med and got accepted to medical school.” She shudders, “but I decided I liked clothes more.”
I laugh, “Your father must have hated that.”
“Yes he did, especially since I’m such a genius,” she sighs, “I’m a great loss to the profession of medicine.” She smiles impishly, “but a great gain to women who love the way I dress them, right?”
I have to agree. From what I can see, she does know what she is doing. Based on what she has shown me, my new style is part casual, part classy, innocent, and sexy. I flatter myself that she’s clothing me in my own personality. “Seattle is not really a dressy city,” She tells me with a grimace, “But we do have a little fashion.” She winks at me, promising to deliver all my new clothes over the course of the week.
David is still extremely busy, so over the next few days, we fall into a routine. We have breakfast together before he leaves for work. Afterwards, I read on my tablet, mostly books, but I also read the news, especially news about software companies, eager to learn more about what David does when he’s not with me.
The little news I find about Preston Corp is mostly what I already know. It’s a top-notch software entrepreneurial and investment company, with David as the CEO. There is some information about their investments, but it’s mostly abstract. David is as much of an enigma to the public as he is to me, I soon decide. There’s nothing about his personal life, only a little about his charity work supporting educational programs all over the world.
When I’m not reading, I draw, filling my sketchbook with more and more pages of jewelry. Sometimes Mrs. Daniels comes to watch me, exclaiming about how talented I am.
The day Reiko
delivers the first batch of my clothes, I’ve been in Seattle for a little less than a week. As soon as Mrs. Daniel’s lets her in, she fills the apartment with her chatter.
“Wait till you see your new clothes.” She tells me, as Mrs. Daniels wheels the full clothes rack into the apartment.
I’ve been sitting in the living room, sketching at the window seat. As I get up to join them, Reiko comes over to me. “I didn’t know you were an artist.” She remarks, her eyes on the sketchpad I just abandoned on the coffee table.
“I’m not.” I deny, suddenly a little shy of my work. “I just like to draw jewelry.
“May I?” She looks closer, thumbing through a few pages, “These are really good.” She looks up at me, her eyes shining, “Why are you keeping them hidden?”
I laugh, “Please don’t spare my feelings.”
“No, really!” She nods, “I know what I’m talking about. My mother designs jewelry.”
I vaguely remember, her mentioning something like that.
She sound excited. “I’d totally rock these.” She turns to me “Have you made any of them?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I haven’t been to art school or anything.”
Reiko’s curtain of black and scarlet hair moves as she shrugs, “My mother didn’t go either. She took a private course and learned how to smith herself.”
“Really!” I’m impressed.
“Do you have any plans to make them?” she asks. Mrs. Daniels is wheeling the rack of clothes towards the door that leads to my dressing room from the hallway while we follow her behind.
I give a little grimace. “Not really, no.” I say, “at least, not for now. I just like to draw.”
She gives me a look. “You should though, with your talent, you could make a name for yourself.” She sounds serious. “I wish I could talk to my mother about you,” she says, “but I’m sure that would violate the NDA.”
Mrs. Daniels is already inside the dressing room. I stop at the door. What NDA? I think.
