The Marriage Ultimatum

by Anne Marie Winston

  Kristin lay watching as he stepped out of his pants. He wore stretchy, snug briefs that did nothing to hide the ridge of arousal beneath and her pulse raced. He was barely contained by the fabric, and in a moment he hooked his thumbs in the sides of the briefs and shucked them off as well. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t pretend to be matter-of-fact. He was big, heavily made and if a man could get any more aroused, she couldn’t imagine how. He slowly put one knee on the bed again, and as he leaned forward, his sex fell against her belly and she jumped. He was hot and hard, so hard, and without conscious thought she wriggled her hips beneath him, seeking a satisfaction that eluded her.

  Derek lowered himself slowly onto her, pushing her thighs apart and making a space for himself. The action sandwiched him between their bodies and she could feel him, firm and gently moving against her belly. He bent his head to her breast then, and she jumped as his lips closed over one nipple. He swirled his tongue around the tight peak time after time, and just when she thought she couldn’t stand the rising tension any longer, he drew her deeper into his mouth and began to suck strongly at her. She almost shrieked aloud, her body surging up against him as electric shocks of sensation ran straight from her breast to her womb. She was trembling, panting, her legs moving restlessly around his hips.

  Derek made a low sound of approval. He shifted to one side and she opened her mouth to protest his leaving, but the words turned into a breathless moan of pleasure as his fingers slid up the inside of her thigh. He brushed lightly over the curls he found there and she was startled to realize how wet she felt. Then one finger probed deeper, sliding between her soft folds and her back arched as he suddenly pushed the digit deep, deep inside her sensitive channel. There was no pain, only an exciting sense of pressure and an irresistible urge to move against his hand. He laid the fleshy pad just below his thumb flat against her and pressed strongly, and she clutched at his shoulders. “Derek, I want…Derek!” His name became a cry of release as the tight coil of desire that had drawn together inside her suddenly flew apart. Her body was out of her control, bucking and surging against his hand, her back arching repeatedly as her fingers gripped his shoulders. He touched her relentlessly, pushing her beyond pleasure into a final paroxysm of climax that left her limp and gasping, too drained to move, completely shocked by the force and power of her first orgasm.

  Then, before she could recover, before she had time to get embarrassed at her own abandon, he drew his hand away and levered himself over her again. She could feel the heavy length of him as he drew back on his knees and placed himself directly at the moist, pouting entrance to her body. Slowly, he flexed his hips, using his hands to open her to him, and she shivered at the first blunt, probing contact. He leaned forward, supporting himself on his arms as he pushed himself deeper.

  “Kris.”

  She looked up at him and was startled by the fierce, intent look on his face.

  “Put your legs around my waist,” he commanded.

  She obeyed instantly, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and linking her ankles behind his lean waist. The position tipped her up into an even more intimate contact and she drew in a sharp breath.

  He grinned, a mere baring of his teeth, and muttered, “Hang on,” and almost before the words registered, he was moving strongly against her, gasping as his body arched against her in the throes of his own fulfillment.

  When he finally was still, he lifted himself away from her and rolled to one side. He pulled her against him, kissing her temple gently as she cuddled close. “You all right?”

  She couldn’t suppress a smile. “I’m fantastic.”

  Now it was his turn to grin. “Yeah. You are.”

  They stared at each other a moment as the smiles faded, and she wondered at the searching look in his gaze. Finally, he said, “Thank you for being persistent. And patient.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, equally seriously. Her heart was beating faster at the tender expression on his face.

  “Spoons?” he asked.

  She was completely bewildered. “Spoons? What does that mean?”

  “Do you want to sleep spoons?” He turned her to her side and curved his body around hers, pressing her back against his chest and her bottom into the cradle of his hips. Sliding one arm beneath her, he said, “Isn’t this nice?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was a whisper. “Very nice.” In all her imaginings, she’d never pictured herself sleeping with him in such an intimate, loverlike embrace. It was more wonderful than her best dreams. Twisting her head backward, she stretched up and kissed his jaw. “Good night.”

  He gathered her closer and she could feel him tugging gently at her unbound hair. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He chuckled sheepishly. “Spreading your hair over us. It’s been one of my fantasies for days now.”

  She laughed. “Good grief. Just how many fantasies have you had, buddy?”

  He kissed the back of her neck, and a sexual thrill shivered down her spine. “You have no idea, honey.”

  Kristin woke in the morning alone, and felt vaguely disappointed, even though she knew Derek was an early riser. Slipping out of bed, she padded into the shower, noting as she went the little twinges that reminded her of the night past.

  He had awakened her in the wee hours by simply stroking his big hands up and down her torso, teasing her breasts into aching awareness and eventually moving lower. He’d slid his finger into her and rubbed gently until she’d exploded in his arms, then he’d taken her yet again before they’d drifted back to sleep for a little longer.

  As she dried off, she studied herself in the mirror. Anyone looking at her would know something had changed, she thought ruefully. She was…glowing. And the person responsible for it had already put on the coffee downstairs, if the smell was any indicator.

  Hurriedly, she dressed and ran down the steps. Maybe there would come a day when she didn’t want to be with him every minute she could, but she doubted it.

  He was in the kitchen, absorbed in the sports page and she paused in the doorway for a moment, drinking in the sight of the man she loved. His dark hair stuck out at odd angles. She’d seen him sleep before, and she knew why his hair looked like that. He buried his head in the pillow or in his arms. It struck her, for about the ten millionth time, how very unusual their relationship was. She already knew him as well as a wife of some years, she thought tenderly.

  “Good morning.” She smiled as she started across the kitchen, intending to press her body to his and offer him a kiss.

  “’Morning.” Derek sent an abstracted smile in her direction but he didn’t meet her eyes. Before she reached him, he turned away and picked up a new section of the newspaper, opening it and refolding it noisily to the page he wanted.

  Her smile faded and she automatically detoured to the coffeepot on the counter to his left. The first moment of puzzlement began to give way to hurt as she poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it to the table. He still didn’t look up, didn’t speak again, and her impatience grew in direct proportion to the hurt that made her chin quiver despite her best efforts to still it.

  “Okay,” she finally said, setting her coffee cup down with a snap. “What’s going on?”

  “Huh?” Derek glanced at her over the top of the paper.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. You’re doing your level best to ignore me this morning. I thought—I expected—oh, never mind!” She slapped a hand on the table and rose, uncaring that her coffee sloshed across the paper he’d laid there.

  “Kris, honey, wait.” He moved faster than she imagined he could, grabbing her arm before she could leave the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just not used to sharing my morning yet.” He wrapped his arms around her and she let him hold her, burrowing into his embrace and laying her head on his chest.

  “You looked like you were a million miles away.”

  “I was…thinking.”

  “About what?�
� The steady beat of his heart reassured her, as did the warmth of his arms around her and the slow glide of his palms up and down her back.

  His hands stilled. “Deb,” he said quietly. “I was thinking about Deb.”

  Kristin said, “Oh,” in a small voice and fell silent. He expected questions but when she didn’t say anything else, he relaxed and let himself savor the feel of her in his arms.

  The moment she walked into the kitchen, he’d realized his error. Deb had hated his habit of rising early and slipping out of bed to read the paper, although she’d never said so flat out. She’d just been snippy and cool when she came down later, and he’d usually beaten a hasty retreat since he’d assumed that her first-thing-in-the-morning bad mood just needed time to mellow into her more usual placid temperament.

  It wasn’t until they’d gone to counseling a year later that he’d found out how it bugged her, that her bad mood was a result of his behavior. He’d been happy to change and it hadn’t taken much. She didn’t want to get up with him. All she’d wanted was a little nudge and a good morning kiss before he got up and left her dozing.

  How could he have forgotten that? He’d felt guilty as hell so he’d immediately buried his head in the paper, hoping the moment would pass. Tomorrow morning, he’d make the effort for Kris.

  She was quiet in his arms, and he savored the feel of her soft curves, marveling at his good fortune. How had he gotten lucky enough to find this kind of physical compatibility with one of his best friends? Slowly, he ran his hands down her back to her hips, tugging her more firmly against him and leisurely rubbing his hips against her, feeling the insistent rise of desire shorten his breath as his flesh firmed and filled.

  He dropped his head and sought out the soft hollow just beneath her ear, nuzzling into the warm space, then tugging on her earlobe with light nips. Kristin shuddered, lifting her face to his and without hesitation, he took her mouth even as he reached down and put his hand beneath one of her thighs. She willingly lifted her leg and twined it around his hips while balancing on the one remaining, opening herself to allow him to boldly press himself against the warmth of her opened thighs.

  He shoved his tongue into her mouth, suddenly feeling a burning need to brand her. She was going to be his wife. His wife! He hadn’t allowed himself to think about marriage again after Deb—no. He wasn’t going to go there. When he kissed her with renewed passion, she kissed him back with abandon, but when he reached beneath the little denim skirt she wore, she said, “Wait. Derek, we can’t! Mollie—”

  “Never wakes up much before nine,” he reminded her. “It’s barely seven. But if it makes you feel better…” He lifted her with his hands beneath her bottom, and as she circled his hips with both legs and locked her arms around his neck, he carried her across the kitchen to the bathroom in the front hallway. Once inside, he closed the door firmly, then turned and leaned Kristin’s weight against it. It was dark and cozy and though he could have turned on the light, he found he liked the clandestine feeling. He fumbled to pull the little skirt out of his way—and froze when he realized she wore no panties beneath it.

  “Just what do you think you’re up to?” he said, laughing and trying to sound stern at the same time.

  She laughed, too, lifting her face for his kiss again. “I don’t believe I’m the one who matches that description.”

  His amusement faded as he fondled the warm, smooth globes of her buttocks, exploring the tender flesh in her hidden folds. He made a rough sound of delight when his seeking fingers encountered slippery heat, and slowly, he let her slide down to stand on her own feet. He probed deeper with one finger before withdrawing, spreading the sweet moisture over her, delving again and again to repeat the process until she was twisting and crying against him.

  He wanted her in every way there was, and though his own body was rigid and aching with the need to be inside her, there was something more he wanted to do, something he’d been fantasizing about in hot, erotic dreams for the past week. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees and she clutched at his shoulders. “Derek, what…?”

  “Hush,” he said. “Let me taste you.”

  “Oh, no,” she moaned. She covered her feminine mound with one hand but he only kissed and nibbled around the edges of her palm until she relaxed. Then he drew her hand away, returning it to his shoulders so that both of his were free to press against her inner thighs and widen her stance. He buried his nose in the sweet, spicy curls and inhaled deeply. “Ah, Kris, you’re beautiful.”

  He’d said it before and he knew it was inadequate, but it was all his feeble brain could come up with at the moment. Slowly, taking his time, he licked a line along the curl-covered folds of tender flesh, tasting the dew he’d drawn forth. As her body gave way beneath his probing advances, he curled his tongue and thrust deep inside her, then found the tiny button of her desire and flicked it back and forth relentlessly, gauging her response in the shifting motions of her hips and the small cries she made above his head.

  He was so hard he ached, and he finally pulled away long enough to rise and shove down the baggy pajama bottoms he wore and free himself. Kristin sagged against the door, but he slid his hand down her arm to capture her palm and drag it to him.

  “Touch me,” he said in a hoarse whisper, folding her fingers around his rigid length. Her hand was small and warm and he almost whimpered aloud at the exquisite sensation as she tentatively began to explore him. He did groan aloud when she found the small bead of moisture that had already escaped his control and spread it all around the throbbing head, her tentative touch so thrilling that he felt like throwing his head back and howling out his pleasure.

  “Show me what to do,” she implored.

  “Like this.” He put his hand over hers and began a slow rhythm. He showed her how tightly to grip him, how fast to stroke, and within moments she proved so apt a pupil that he was thrusting his hips into her hand and gritting his teeth as the inescapable conclusion to such shattering pleasure rose higher and higher. “Wait,” he finally choked out.

  He pulled her hand away with frantic haste and reached for her in the darkness, clasping her by the hips and yanking her up and onto him in a single wild motion. Immediately, he leaned forward, pinning her against the door. He’d prepared her so well that she came almost immediately as he thrust deep into her, driving her relentlessly up and over the edge so that she was arching and crying in his arms as her body rippled with contractions around him. He couldn’t wait, couldn’t last, and he let the dance of passion whirl him into his own release as he came heavily into her, his weight shoving her so hard against the door he knew he probably would bruise her. But his body didn’t belong to him, didn’t want to obey his commands. He could only cling to Kris and bury his face in her neck as he poured himself into her receptive body, her arms and legs anchoring him to the sweet reality of his new world.

  He was gasping for air when the world finally stopped spinning. Slowly he straightened. Kris’s legs slid limply down to the floor but he didn’t let her go because she felt as floppy as a rag doll to him.

  “Hey.” He had to stop, clear his throat and start over. “Are you okay?” He could actually feel himself blushing. God, no wonder. He’d acted like a man marooned on an island for years without sex.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was dreamy and soft, and amazingly, he felt a twinge of renewed desire stir him. It was the first time in his life he really understood the phrase “ruled by his hormones.” His hormones were very definitely in control. And what they wanted was sex. With Kris. Anytime, all the time.

  Slowly, he lifted her away from him and set her down. He snapped on the lights and cleaned himself up in a few quick motions, then turned and gathered a folded pad of toilet tissue. When he dropped to his knees in front of her, she uttered a startled squeak.

  “Wha—?” She tried to close her legs when she realized what he was doing, but he held her thighs apart with gentle, yet inexorable fingers and gently blotted her sensit
ive flesh. Then, unable to resist, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the soft tangle of curls, letting his tongue lap at her just one time.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin, and he chuckled as he rose to his feet. “We’ll get back to that later,” he told her in a deep, satisfied voice before letting her go.

  Nine

  He took her hand and started back to the kitchen, leading her across to the breakfast nook and drawing her onto his knee. He was supremely conscious of the fact that she wore nothing beneath her skirt.

  “So how did you lose your underwear?” he asked, smiling.

  She shrugged, and a pretty pink lit her cheeks. “I guess I just forgot it this morning.”

  He laughed aloud. “Well, you can forget any morning. I promise not to complain.”

  She smiled. Then she laid her head on his shoulder. “We need to talk about birth control.”

  Birth control. Holy unplanned pregnancy. It was several seconds before he realized he’d spoken aloud. “I never gave it a thought,” he said ruefully. “Deb never…she had trouble conceiving so we never… Is it the right time?”

  “Probably not.” Kristin raised her head and her gaze was steady and clear. “I know you said you’d like more children, but I’d rather take our time and be sure you feel all right with it.”

  “I’m going to feel all right with it,” he said. “But I’d like to have you to myself for a year or so before we add anyone new to our family.”

  “All right. I’ll take care of it today.” She laid her head back on his shoulder.

  She’d take care of it…? “You’re going on the Pill?”