A Negotiated Marriage

by Noelle Adams

  Molly flushed, deeply conscious of the fact that a foot rub had turned her on.

  “I’d never try to manipulate you by such means into doing something you don’t want to do.”

  She knew his words were true. He wasn’t always sensitive and was never tender. But she couldn’t remember a single time in their marriage when he’d taken advantage of her.

  Luke glanced away, momentarily without his characteristic confidence. “I got carried away.”

  Had he pressed his advantage and tried to seduce her, she would have instinctively resisted. But he was Luke. Whom she’d lived with for three years. Whom she knew better than anyone. Who knew her better than anyone.

  At the moment, he looked uncomfortable, like he was annoyed with himself. The only time he lost his characteristic smooth eloquence and confidence was when he was being real, more real than he was comfortable being.

  The only time she’d seen him at a complete loss for words was two years ago when her father had died and he’d had to break the news to her.

  “What do you mean you got carried away?” she asked, suspecting but wanting confirmation.

  He turned his head to gaze at her fully, a heat in his eyes she’d never seen before. His face was slightly flushed, and on his skin was a sheen of perspiration. His body was tight with a tension she couldn’t help but recognize.

  It was one thing to hear him say he was attracted to her. It was another to actually see it.

  Lust coursed through her as she responded to what she saw in his expression and his body. Without thinking, she crawled across the couch and wrapped an arm around his neck to lean into a kiss.

  She’d kissed Luke before. They’d kissed on the day they married. They kissed in public all the time.

  But it was never like this.

  He made a guttural sound as he took her face in his hands and deepened the kiss. She pressed herself against him as his tongue slid across her lips and then into her mouth. Waves of heat and pleasure washed over her as she reached up to clutch his head.

  After a minute, he eased her down onto her back on the couch, moving with her so they didn’t break their embrace. Molly tugged at his shirt, trying to untuck it so she could get her hands under and feel his skin.

  Luke finally tore his mouth away, gasping as he asked, “Molly? You’re sure?”

  “Yeah,” she replied with a huff of pleasure because she’d managed to get her hands on his skin. His back was hot and firm, and she stroked it, loving the feel of the smooth planes beneath her palms. “Yeah. Let’s change our terms.”

  He made another throaty sound and lowered his face, mouthing a trail along her jawline and then down her neck. He sucked at her pulse, causing her to squirm and dig her fingernails into his back.

  His hands slipped between them so he could unbutton the shirt of her pajamas. She was breathing in fast little pants as he gently pulled the fabric apart, baring her breasts to his view. He made a humming sound and caressed her so lightly it almost tickled. When she twitched in response, he stroked up to cup and then fondle one breast.

  “Eh,” she gasped, arching up into his hand as corresponding tugs of pleasure intensified between her thighs. When he lowered his mouth to her nipple and teased it with his tongue, she clawed lines with her nails across his shoulders.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Molly,” he murmured, the words muffled by her breast. “Beautiful and so responsive.”

  The words were as compelling as his touch, and she was now practically writhing beneath him. But, grasping at the tail ends of her wit, she managed to ask, “Is that a nice way of saying I’m overly eager?”

  “Definitely not overly eager.” There was a smile in his voice as his mouth moved lower, brushing over her ribs and down to her belly. He slid both hands up to twirl her nipples with his thumbs as he mouthed her stomach. “Just eager enough.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh, although her laughter was breathless and uneven, since his mouth was now almost at her waistband. “You seem pretty eager yourself.”

  “No arguments there.” Luke tugged down her pajama pants, and she lifted her hips to help him. He dropped them on the floor when he’d gotten them off. Then he lowered his face again, nuzzling her over the fabric of her panties.

  She spread her thighs to give him better access, and he mouthed a line along her folds until he’d found her clit. Even through the damp satin, the stimulation was almost too intense. She cried out when he flicked her clit with his tongue, and she curved her hands around his head, trying to hold him more tightly against her.

  She pumped her pelvis up, shamelessly seeking more friction.

  When Luke raised his head, she actually gave a little sob of disappointment. “Damn it, I was going to come.”

  “Sorry.” He hooked his fingers around her underwear and tugged it off. His eyes crawled over her body in a hungry way she found strangely thrilling. He was always so utterly composed. She’d never seen him like this before. “They were getting in the way.”

  She had no complaints about losing her panties. He stroked her hot, wet arousal with two fingers until he slid them inside her.

  She arched up at the penetration. Then she bucked her hips eagerly as he found her clit again with his mouth. As he teased her with his lips and tongue, he pumped his fingers. Embarrassingly soon her body tightened.

  He tried to hold her still, since she was writhing as her climax crested, and he was pressing against her g-spot with his fingers when the tension finally broke. She cried out with a loud, ragged exclamation.

  When she’d ridden out the pleasure, she collapsed back on the couch, limp and deliciously pleased with herself.

  Luke raised himself up, smiling a little as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Wow! You’re good at that!”

  “Why would you be surprised?” he asked, with an arch of his eyebrow. He actually looked a little offended.

  She couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Maybe you’re just trying to convince me that our renegotiated terms are good ones,” she suggested, finding herself more articulate now that she’d come.

  His smile widened. “How did you guess?”

  Despite his composure, she could tell he was in pretty bad shape. His muscles were so tense he was almost shaking, he was flushed, and there was an obvious bulge at the front of his pants.

  Deciding it would be mean to make him wait much longer, she asked, “Do you have a condom?” When he reached into his pocket, she gave an outraged squeak. “Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Just try to be prepared for all contingencies.”

  “Is that what this is? A contingency?” While she spoke, she worked on his pants and was delighted when she managed to free his erection.

  He jerked when she stroked him. “Fuck.”

  He let her caress him for a minute, but then he gently pulled her hands away. She snickered, since she took this as a sign that he didn’t want to lose it too soon.

  While he rolled on the condom, he gave her a dry look that made it clear he didn’t appreciate being snickered at.

  Then he eased Molly down on her back again and settled himself between her thighs. She bent her legs up on either side of his hips as he positioned himself.

  “Okay?” he asked, a thickness to his voice she just wasn’t used to.

  “Yeah.” She wriggled her hips, trying to encourage him to move.

  She was really wet, and he slid in easily. But her body clung and stretched, resisting the intrusion, as the penetration deepened.

  It had been a long time since she had sex, and he wasn’t insubstantial.

  “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, freezing in position.

  She whimpered, squirming a little until her muscles relaxed around him. She’d had her hands on his shoulders but now she moved them around his body so she could feel his lean back and firm ass.

  Luke braced himself with one hand on the cushion beside her and the
other on the armrest behind her head. His face was tight, intense, and that same possessive heat was evident in his eyes.

  Her hips started to rock instinctively, as a deep urgency built up inside her.

  “Oh, fuck,” Luke muttered. “You’re so tight.”

  There was no particular reason why she should feel a rush of erotic pleasure at his words, but she did. She whimpered again and bent her legs up higher, causing him to slide in even deeper.

  He made a throaty sound, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them and levered his hips back to make his first thrust.

  Molly gasped and dug her fingers into his ass on the in-stroke, flushing with heat. She gasped again as he thrust once more, and she rocked her hips up to meet him.

  They established a fast rhythm, both too eager to move slow. Molly had her doubts about whether she would come again, after her climax earlier, but her body responded to the raw stimulation and the motion of their bodies together.

  “Oh God,” she mumbled as she felt an orgasm starting to tighten.

  “Gonna come?” Luke asked hoarsely, his face damp and his features almost contorted with tension. The motion of his hips was fast and urgent.

  “Yeah, oh yeah.” She clawed at his ass in a desperate attempt to get him even deeper.

  Luke made an extended sound, half grunt and half groan, and his hips moved hard against hers as if he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

  This evidence of his lack of control pushed Molly over the edge. She arched up dramatically with a helpless cry as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her.

  Luke froze momentarily inside her, his face twisting in pleasure and effort. Then he gave a rough cry of release, and his body shuddered as he came hard.

  Molly was coming down as his elbows buckled, and he almost collapsed on top of her. His weight was hot and heavy, and his skin as damp as hers.

  “Oh, God, that was good,” she panted, stroking up his spine to his head. She loved the texture of his hair beneath her fingers. She hadn’t expected it to be so soft. “That was so good.”

  “Yeah,” he rasped, his face buried in the hollow of her neck. “Yeah.”

  After a few seconds, however, she squirmed beneath him. He was heavy and he was starting to soften. “The condom, Luke.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, with effort heaving himself up.

  He got up to take care of the condom, and Molly stretched—feeling achy and incredibly sated both.

  Idly, she reached down and pulled back on her pajama pants. Then she buttoned the top she still wore. When Luke returned, she was no longer exposed.

  “What did you think?” Luke asked, collapsing onto the couch but in a sitting position this time.

  It seemed so strange. This was Luke. Her husband of three years. And she’d just had sex with him.

  She wasn’t inexperienced, but this was up there with the best sex she’d had in her life.

  “How did you know?” she asked, sitting up so she could talk to him better. “That we’d be good in bed together, I mean.”

  He gave a half-shrug. “I didn’t know for sure. But I thought we might.”

  “I’m not really your type, though, am I? Didn’t you used to date models?”

  “Haven’t you been attracted to men who aren’t really your type?”

  Luke wasn’t her type. She’d always liked the rough, bad boys. Not the buttoned-up business types. Looking at Luke now, though, relaxed and flushed and wrinkled and debauched, she couldn’t imagine how she’d lived with him for so long without recognizing how incredibly sexy he was.

  “So what should the terms be?” Molly tried to visualize how this new aspect of their arrangement would work. “I don’t want it to get complicated or for either of us to feel obliged or pressured to have sex whenever the other wants. Should we agree to like once a week or something?”

  “Once a week is perfectly acceptable.” He arched an eyebrow. “Am I going to have to adjust our other terms to accommodate this new item?”

  Molly chuckled, both at the irony and at his business-like language. “No, I guess not. I imagine I’ll be getting as much out of this as you will.”

  A flare of heat awoke in his eyes. “I’ll make sure you do.”

  Completely worn out, Molly got up off the couch. “Sounds good. Then we’re agreed. Sex once a week.” She reached down to squeeze his shoulder. Then, rethinking it, leaned over to kiss his cheek. “We’ll need to work out some details for the new contract tomorrow. But I’m exhausted now. I’m going to bed.”

  Luke got up too. “I’m going to get some work done.”

  They went to their separate rooms. As she got ready for bed, Molly found herself absurdly excited about this new development. They were both mature adults and professionals. They had a workable situation. They both had the same attitude about sex and each other.

  Why shouldn’t they indulge in sex, since they seemed to be so good at it?

  This wasn’t going to end up like her relationship with Baron. Her marriage to Luke had always worked quite agreeably for both of them, and there was no reason to think it would change now.

  Luke had never ripped her heart to shreds. He didn’t have the power to do so. Not like Baron. He was her friend, and she liked being married to him.

  And they got to have sex again next week.

  Three

  Molly was really late.

  She’d had a meeting on the other side of town, and it had taken twice as long to get the requisite background information from a new client as she’d expected. Then a stalled car had backed up traffic on the highway for miles.

  So she came bursting into the apartment exactly six minutes before Luke had told her they needed to leave for an art exhibit opening.

  Part of her was hoping Luke was running late too. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he could have gotten wrapped up in work and fallen behind schedule himself. This faint hope was crushed when Molly dumped her bags on the floor and hurried into the main living area to find Luke standing near the windows and tapping away on his smartphone.

  Looking incredibly attractive in black and steel gray, he glanced up as she entered.

  “I know. Don’t say it.” Molly picked her speed up to a jog as she rushed toward her bedroom, her heels clicking loudly on the polished floor.

  “Five minutes,” Luke called after her. He didn’t sound annoyed. In fact, he sounded slightly distracted. She figured he’d gone back to whatever he was working on with his smartphone.

  She shut her bedroom door as she started undressing, dropping her clothes on the floor. She felt sweaty and harassed, so she needed to take a quick shower. She kept it to less than two minutes and managed to preserve her hair and most of her makeup.

  As she tried to figure out what to wear, she put on a black lace bra and matching thong, since a lot of her Luke-outfits were silk and panty-line could be a problem. She pulled on a pair of her favorite stockings and slid on black slingback pumps with three-inch heels. She didn't wear expensive stockings and underwear every day, but she tended to when she went with Luke to one of his social events. Even though no one saw it but her, it made her feel more chic and refined.

  Since she knew what jewelry she was going to wear, she put that on too—a Tahitian black pearl choker and drop earring set.

  She checked herself out in the mirror and winced slightly at the sight of her hair. She’d twisted it up with pins this morning, and it was still mostly secure. But wisps and strands had slipped out of the twist and were brushing her neck and face messily. She didn’t have time to fix it, however, so she just patted down some of the strays and swiped on lipstick.

  Now she just had to figure out what clothes to wear.

  She always found these fancy art openings the hardest functions to dress for. Cocktail parties were easy. So were dinners out or evenings at the ballet or opera. Even black tie events had a standard dress code that wasn't difficult to follow. Molly never knew, though, what she was supposed to w
ear to an art opening—particularly one as important as this.

  She'd never been to art openings before she married Luke.

  She went into her closet and stared at the rows of clothes. She had a pretty vintage dress of gray silk she thought would work, but she’d already worn it twice in the last three months, and the same crowd often frequented these events.

  She passed over that dress and kept looking. She could wear a simple black sheathe, which was always a safe bet, but it seemed so stuffy for something like an art opening. A black silk blouse caught her eye, even though it wasn’t from her Luke-section. It had cap sleeves and ruching down the front, so it looked distinct and almost old-fashioned.

  She’d grabbed it when she heard a tap on her door. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” she lied, running out of her closet to check the time. “I’m coming.”

  Luke walked into the room.

  She was so surprised she squealed and held the little blouse up over her chest as a very ineffective shield. “What are you doing barging in here like that?”

  Luke’s eyes had widened as processed her near nakedness. He jerked to a stop, and his gaze crawled from her heels to her lace bra and panties to her slightly messy hair.

  “Luke!” Molly objected shrilly, her whole body flushing with shock and embarrassment.

  “You said you were ready.”

  “I’m almost ready.” Something in his expression made her feel completely exposed. She turned around, so she wasn’t facing him. Then realized she was wearing a thong, which did next to nothing to hide her bare bottom. “Damn it, Luke. You can’t just walk in here like that.”

  Luke looked away from her and sounded a little stiff. “I’m sorry. I thought you were ready.”

  He’d never walked into her room without knocking before and—despite the way it had flustered her—she knew he hadn’t done so now on purpose. It wasn't a big deal, and there was no reason to make it one.

  “I know.” She managed to moderate her tone, pulling on the blouse and trying not to feel so self-conscious. They’d had sex before, after all. They’d been having sex for six weeks. Luke had seen her naked. For some reason, having him see her now—outside of the context of sex—felt different. Made her feel vulnerable. “I’m almost ready. I just need to find something to wear.”