It was like a dam had burst in my heart. All the things I’d been holding back came rushing forward, and no amount of kissing could express how I felt about this man.
I’d spent years developing these insecurities and building up my defenses. All my life, I’d absorbed messages from the world, being told that I wasn’t ideal. That I wasn’t right. That men didn’t want me.
Men had treated me like I was worthless, and other women had made nasty comments about my big breasts or how my clothes fit. I’d settled for friends-with-benefits situations with partners who didn’t want to be exclusive because they were holding out for someone “more their type.” It had been far easier to believe all the lies than I would like to admit. To convince myself that I didn’t deserve what others had and to lower my expectations.
But in only two months, this man, my husband, had laid waste to it all, making me feel like the most treasured, desired, and powerful woman on earth.
“Naked,” I breathed while he kissed my neck. He had me pushed up against the living room wall, and his erection was pressing against my core. This wasn’t enough. I needed to see all of him, feel all of him, let myself experience this. Fully unburdened and ready to embrace whatever came next.
Nodding, he gently lowered me to the floor. The moment both feet were planted, I tugged at his pants, pulling them down to get what I wanted.
I bent at the waist, my mouth watering and my heart racing, and grasped his hips, then took him into my mouth.
“Jesus,” he said, bracing his hands on the wall.
I smiled up at him. One of the advantages of being with someone so much taller than me was that there was no kneeling involved. I’d be licking his knees if I did.
I took him to the back of my throat, letting instinct take over and pushing away concerns about my lack of experience. I wasn’t putting on a show. I wasn’t strategically hiding parts of my body. I was giving myself to my husband. And the sensation was fucking amazing.
“Fuck, Willa.” Gently, he gathered my hair and tugged.
In response, a jolt of electricity shot straight to my clit.Interesting.
“You’re gonna kill me, Doc,” he whispered, the rough pads of his fingers caressing my neck. “You need to stop.”
With one hand wrapped around his shaft, I shook my head and swirled my tongue around his tip. With every lick, with every caress, my arousal amplified. And when he slipped a hand down my top and squeezed my breast hard, the ache was almost unbearable. I clenched my thighs together, desperate for relief, though I didn’t stop.
“That’s it,” he said, clutching my shoulders and forcing me to release him. “I can’t wait any longer to be inside you.”
He pushed my dress up around my hips and then yanked my panties and tights down my legs. When they tore, it only ramped up my need for my husband.
“Bra,” he said through gritted teeth as he dropped to his knees.
I obeyed, pushing my sleeves down my arms and unclasping my bra with shaky hands.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he said, drinking me in.
I was probably a mess. My hair was no doubt wild from being tugged on. The top of my dress was pushed down, causing my tits to spill out, and the skirt was hiked up, exposing my lower half.
“My beautiful wifey.”
Whimpering, I grabbed his shirt collar. “I need you to fuck me.”
He gripped my hips and tugged. “Let me warm you up first.”
“No. I’m ready,” I breathed. “Now.”
With a nod, he stood. Effortlessly, he picked me up and set me on the kitchen island.
As he nudged my entrance, I buried my face in his neck, inhaling and trying to relax.
Slowly, he pushed his way in. The pressure and pain were exquisite, the fullness liberating.
When he was seated, he kissed me hard. “Look at you. Dress pushed up, taking your husband’s cock. Fuck,” he groaned. “I love you so much.”
I leaned back on my hands so he could feast on my breasts, flying higher than I ever had before. He wasn’t slow, and he wasn’t controlled. He was frenzied, and so was I.
“Look,” he commanded, his tone dark. “Look where we come together and tell me that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.”