by Noelle Adams
“I do?”
He took her face in his hands. “Of course, you do. You’re my wife, baby. No one in the world makes me feel as much as you do.”
She was almost crying as he pulled her face closer to his and kissed her softly. She was so emotional that she deepened the kiss, opening her lips to his and wrapping her arms around his neck.
For now, this was all she needed to know. That she was still his wife. That he still felt for her what he had before. That she was somehow helping him get through this, no matter how helpless she felt.
Soon, he was urgent and eager, pushing her down onto the bed and cupping her bottom as they kissed. He was just as rushed and frantic as he’d been since he’d come back to her. It was like he’d lost all control, lost the ability to slow down or rein himself in.
She didn’t care. In truth, she loved that he needed her so much, even though it meant she didn’t get as much foreplay as she’d used to.
He yanked off her jeans, her panties coming down with them, and she fumbled with his trousers until she’d managed to free his erection. He’d gotten her shirt off, but he was still wearing most of his clothes when he lined himself up at her entrance and pushed himself inside.
She was aroused, and it felt good, and she let out a lingering moan as he entered her. Soon, he was taking her hard and fast, holding her legs up higher and grunting as he thrust.
“Mark,” she was gasping, holding on and flooded with feeling. “I love you, Mark. I love you. I love you.”
His grunts turned to helpless exclamations as he pushed into her roughly a few last times, choking on something that sounded like, “Oh, fuck, Sophie. Yes.”
Then his body was relaxing completely, and she was stroking him as he came down.
They’d made love every evening since he arrived in Willow Park, and he was often so wiped out afterwards that he rolled over to fall asleep afterwards. But tonight, after he kissed her, making the same murmured sounds he always made afterwards, he lifted his head to look down at her face.
“What is it?” she asked, when she realized he was frowning.
He didn’t reply.
“What is it, Mark? Please tell me.” She didn’t like the plea in her voice, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
He let out a breath. “I can’t make you come anymore.” His face twisted slightly. “You used to come most of the time. But I can’t seem to get you there now.”
It was true. Partly because they were always so rushed, but that wasn’t the only reason. She felt a flush heating up her skin, on her cheeks and then down her neck.
“What?” he asked, the disappointment on his face changing to curiosity. “What are you embarrassed about? It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” she told him, realizing she was going to have to tell him the truth. Maybe this was what it meant to be totally real, even when it was hard. “It’s my fault.”
“Why is it your fault?” He sat up, looking almost defensive on her behalf. “I’m the one who can’t seem to—”
“No. Let me show you.” She shook off the embarrassment and stood up, grabbing her bathrobe to pull on as she walked to the bathroom.
She returned with the little vibrating sponge in her hand.
“What’s that?” he asked, looking adorably confused.
She turned it on and saw enlightenment dawn on his face.
“Remember Heidi gave it to me? We played with it a little…before. Then, when you were gone, I was using it…a lot…when I took baths. I think maybe I got so used to it that it takes…takes more stimulation to make me…make me get there.” He was her husband, and she loved and trusted him.
But she was still mortified to make the admission.
She came to sit back next to him on the bed, holding the sponge and not daring to meet his eyes.
He reached over to take it out of her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Maybe I shouldn’t have used it. Maybe I should have just…just…”
Mark turned the sponge on.
Her eyes shot back to him. Then she was even more startled when he gently eased her down on her back. “Mark? What are you…” She didn’t finish the question when what he was doing became obvious.
He slowly untied her bathrobe and then, even more slowly, pulled it open to reveal her naked body. He pressed the vibrating sponge against her belly, sliding it up toward her breasts in a leisurely path.
She gasped as the pleasure started to build as he ran the device across her nipples, making circles and then moving it back down.
She shifted her hips as her arousal from before deepened, heightened.
As he lowered the sponge, he used his other hand to take each of her hands in turn and stretch her arms above her head, until her body was stretched out beneath him
He lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and suckled it as he teased her with the sponge between her legs.
She made a lot of silly sounds as she arched up toward him shamelessly, desperately needing more stimulation.
Then he moved the sponge to her clit and held it firmly against her, and she cried out as an orgasm spiraled up far more quickly than she expected. Her body shook as he kept stimulating her, extending the duration of her climax. He’d raised his head so he could watch her with a hot, possessive expression, as if he was enjoying her orgasm as much as she was.
She was gasping helplessly as she finally came down, and she pulled him down into a kiss.
He kissed her back, eagerly, hungrily, and then he straightened up, adjusting their bodies so he was sitting on his knees, between her legs, and her bottom was basically in his lap.
He was hard again, and she had barely come down when he was entering her once more, making her cry out with the pleasure and excitement of it.
Her body was fully displayed to him, and it was completely in his control. He held her hips to bring her into position so he could make tight, little thrusts.
It felt good. Sophie was doing her best to move with him, loving the way he felt inside her and the entitled look in his eyes even more.
Then he turned the sponge back on and pressed it down against her exposed clit. She was almost sobbing as the sensations started to hit her, but he took her hand, putting it over the sponge. “Hold it there.”
Then he took her bottom in his hands so they could move better together.
There were so many sensations from so many locations that she could barely handle it. She was sobbing with pleasure, tears running down her face, as she came hard all around him—and then again as he kept moving inside her.
She was coming one more time when he let out a ragged exclamation as deep pleasure twisted and then softened on his face. She was drenched and panting frantically when he turned off the sponge and finally pulled out of her.
Never once, in all her life, had she experienced pleasure quite so intense.
Mark collapsed beside her on the bed, and they held onto each other for a long time, until they’d finally caught their breath.
“I can’t believe…” she finally gasped out, stroking his chest as she curled up against him. “I can’t believe we did that.”
He stroked her hair away from her face very gently. “We were always good together.”
“I know. It’s always good. But that was…mind-blowing.”
Mark smiled as he slid his hand down to cup her bottom. It wasn’t a sexual touch now as much as it was possessive. “Then we’ll have to try it again.”
“I didn’t know I was even capable of feeling that way.”
“I think there’s a lot you’re capable of that you’ve never imagined.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. It sounded like he was talking about something more than sex. But, either way, she was sure it was a compliment, so she rubbed against his warm body and sighed contentedly. “I think I could sleep for about fifteen hours now.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They both fell asleep, almost immed
iately, but Sophie woke up when Mark got out of bed.
It was pitch black, so it had to be the wee hours of the morning. She knew what he was doing. He was going out to walk in the middle of the night.
He’d been doing it nearly every night.
Evidently, even mind-blowing sex didn’t stop him from needing to do so.
Seven
On Friday morning, Sophie woke up before the alarm sounded and rolled over toward Mark, as she always did when she woke up early.
She liked their silly little chats early in the morning. She liked them so much her body had unconsciously decided to always wake up early now.
This was one of the few times of the day when she really felt close to Mark, other than when they had sex. But, in some ways, this was even better, since it felt deeper, more intimate.
She nestled against him, smiling rather groggily when he wrapped an arm around her.
“Ouch,” she said, when she felt a tug on her hair, which had evidently gotten briefly tangled in his fingers.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’ll stoically hide the unbearable pain.”
He chuckled, as she’d hoped he would, and adjusted her so she was nestled against him more comfortably. He brushed little kisses into her hair.
She tried to think of something meaningful to say. He was most open at times like these, and she thought they might actually be able to have real conversations, ones that were so hard when they were out of bed. But, before she could think of any way to lead into a conversation, he’d tilted up her head and was kissing her lips.
It felt good, and she liked how soft and needy he felt. She responded, although she was a little disappointed. They could have sex any time. She’d rather they open up in other ways right now. But soon her body was just as into things as his was, as he turned over onto her back and kissed his way down her body.
When he got to her clit, she was gasping, and after some work on his part with his fingers and mouth, she was coming in shudders and moans. He was smiling as he rose up and settled his body between her legs. He took her hard and fast, and she wrapped her legs around him.
He wanted her, needed her. She could feel how much he did in the motion of his body, the acceleration of his huffs and grunts.
But she wanted him to need her in other ways too. Once they’d both found their satisfaction, and he was holding her very tightly, she felt a wave of disappointment.
Things between them had been better since the Bible study earlier in the week. It felt like they weren’t both playing out roles anymore. But, if their little morning chats were going to change into sex, then she would have lost some of the real closeness with him they’d had before.
She didn’t want him to see that she was disappointed, though. It would hurt him. She knew it would. And it wasn’t fair to him. He had no idea how much the silly early morning talks meant to her. He would only know she was rejecting the love he’d offered her.
So she stayed in his arms for a few minutes, smiling and pressing little kisses on his skin. Then she groaned and rolled away from him. “I need to get dressed for work,” she said, making sure to keep hiding her real feelings.
He made a throaty sound of refusal. “You still have time.” He tried to pull her back into his arms. “Stay in bed with me.”
Irrationally, she felt crushed, and it was too early in the morning for her to mentally talk herself out of it. “I really can’t.” She gave him one last kiss. “I need to wash my hair today.”
She did need to wash her hair, but that wasn’t the real reason. She cried under the shower for a minute—making sure it was silent—until she reminded herself that things were going as well as she could expect them. This week, they had made some real progress, and nothing was wrong with this morning.
Mark wanted to be close to her. That was what she wanted too.
If he only seemed to really want her body right now, then she could keep being patient. He’d wanted all of her before. Once he’d healed more, surely he would want that again.
***
The next day, Sophie and Mark drove to a Christmas tree farm about forty-five minutes away to find their Christmas tree.
Sophie was excited about the outing. Aside from her little disappointment the morning before, the last few days had gone really well. They might not be perfect, but things between them were significantly better than they’d been a month ago. It hadn’t always been easy, but Saturday felt like a reward.
She was finally getting to pick out a Christmas tree with her husband.
Since her parents had always used the same artificial tree and she hadn’t felt like celebrating while Mark was captured, she’d actually never gone to pick out a live tree in her entire life.
Evergreen Inn and Farm was out in the middle of nowhere. It was a lovely, charming place—complete with an inn, a lake, a barn that could be used for gatherings, a holiday shop, and, of course, the Christmas tree farm.
As soon as they pulled up the drive and parked in one of the designated spaces, a cheerful woman who looked around forty ran out to greet them.
She said her name was Daisy. She owned the farm, and she was thrilled to have them here.
Her cheerfulness was rather overpowering, but it did feel genuine, so Sophie couldn’t help but like the woman. Daisy showed them around, and then told them that they could drive around the field of Christmas trees for as long as they wanted, picking one out. Once they’d decided, they could come back to the main building, and Harry would be happy to help them cut it down and tie it to the roof of their car.
Harry was evidently the gruff man with graying hair who was repairing the wishing well. He heard his name and gave them a quick wave, not even cracking a smile.
“He’s grumpy all the time,” Daisy explained. “But he has a good heart. One day, I swear I’m going to get that man to smile.”
Mark and Sophie smiled at each other.
It was a cold, sunny day, and Sophie put back on her red gloves after they’d gotten in the car again.
“She’s quite a character,” Sophie said, looking in the rearview mirror at Daisy, who had gone over to talk to Harry.
“No wonder Harry doesn’t smile, if he’s faced with her all day. There’s only so much cheerfulness one can take.”
Sophie gave him a quick look but saw he was teasing, so she chuckled in response.
She turned on Christmas music to get them in the spirit as they drove down the paths between the trees, checking out the different possibilities. Sophie had no idea what she was looking for, but Mark seemed to think they needed a North Carolina Fraser fir. He showed her the difference between those and the spruces, and she told him they all looked like Christmas trees to her.
He rolled his eyes at her, clearly trying to hide a smile.
“Oh, look at that one,” she said, her eyes widening as she saw a beautiful, large tree at the end of a row.
Mark laughed out loud. “That would never fit into the apartment.”
She put the car into park and got out. “I think it would. We have really high ceilings.”
“But not twenty-foot ceilings. That thing is enormous.” Mark had gotten out of the car too, and he pointed to a much smaller tree. “We need one about this size.”
“But that’s tiny. I want a nice, big one.”
“We have to get it up the stairs and in through the door, though. And we don’t want to have to lop off the top in order to get it to stand up.” He was walking down another row. “What about this one?”
“That one is skinny.” She saw one she liked the looks of. “What about this one? It’s nice and full.”
“It looks like it has a pot-belly,” Mark said in amusement, coming over to stand near the tree. “It’s as wide as it is tall.”
“It is not. Don’t exaggerate. It just has some meat on its bones.”
“We just got started looking. Let’s not decide too quickly.”
She gave him a playful huff as she took h
is arm. “You just don’t like the one I picked out.”
They walked or drove through the entire selection of Fraser firs, spending more than an hour looking through them all. Mark kept pointing out possibilities, but Sophie didn’t like any of them as much as she did the tree she’d picked out earlier, which Mark had dubbed the “pot-bellied tree.”
He put up a fight that she was sure wasn’t serious, until he finally relented.
It was so cold and she’d been laughing so much that she was breathless as they headed back to the main building.
Mark was flushed and laughing too, and he looked absolutely gorgeous in the winter sunshine, his brown hair glowing and his skin with more color than it had had since he’d returned.
She took his hand as they walked, and even with her gloves on, she could feel the warmth of his hand. They rounded up Harry and showed him the tree they’d chosen.
He examined it, shaking his head and muttering, “Not sure how this tree got so fat.”
Mark snorted, and Sophie said, “It’s not fat! It’s just big-boned.”
“A big-boned tree,” Harry muttered, his grizzled face surprisingly pleasant and almost attractive. “Never heard the like of it.”
Mark was obviously trying to suppress his amusement, while Sophie gave him a stern look.
Harry pulled out the saw he’d brought with him. “Who wants to do the honors?”
Sophie looked automatically to Mark, who raised his eyebrows at her. “I think Sophie should do the honors, since it’s her tree.”
He was obviously teasing her, but she took it as a challenge just the same. She steeled her shoulders and walked over to take the saw. It was heavier than she expected, and she looked at it dubiously.
Manual labor wasn’t her forte. She’d never used a saw before in her life.
“How do I do it?” she asked Harry.
“Just line it up at the bottom, where you want to cut, and go to it. Tiny thing like you can never manage it, though.”
Sophie sucked in an indignant breath and turned to look at Mark, who was smiling at her with such affection she almost lost her breath.
