A first night of passion.

Emily King

No, no, no, no.

This did not just happen.

But it did. If the pleasure running in my veins wasn’t enough proof, the clenching of my insides for more should sprinkle a cold bucket of reality on my face. If that didn’t work, all I had to do was open my eyes to see the man standing in between my legs.

“Open your eyes, Emily.” He called. His voice was gentle, was patient, like that of a lover.

He was not my lover. Her was Alisha’s.

“Let go of me. This didn’t happen.” I muttered the first words to him then the second to myself.

“No, no, Emily, don’t do that, except you want a reminder.” He spoke, and I could hear the chuckle in his voice. It sounded cold and triumphant, like that of a devil when he knew he had won.

His hands tightened over my hip and I felt the tip of his nose gently nudging the side of my core. My whole body swelled in response to his touch, betraying me. I tried to buck off him but instead, I just brought myself more into his face so I strayed still, embarrassment flushing over me and more embarrassment when I saw my whole skin turning pink and I was almost naked in his sight.

“Let me go,” I said again, wishing he would leave that position he was in. It only brought more memories. Of my hands in his hair, my need for more. I had never thought it would feel so good. Was it just with him or I would feel so much pleasure even if it was someone else?

“Say my name.” He taunted me. I knew he was referring back to when I moaned his name, which baffled me also. Why had I moaned his name? I had no sexual thoughts concerning him. I didn’t care if he was spending his time sucking Alisha or being sucked by her. He had two whole days with her in his arms, why the fuck was he here. I was fine alone. He just had to come here and confuse me. Why?

“Let go of me, Alexandro.” I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes. “Please.” His expression curled into that of distaste as he let go of my legs and got off the bed.

He looked impeccable dressed down to his tie while I was open to him like a slut, calling for him in my sleep, letting him touch me and liking it.

I wished I could say I hated the feeling of his hands, or that I would never want them on me anymore, but I now had knowledge of the pleasures he could give me, how would I be able to look at his face and not be ashamed?

“What’s wrong with you, Em?” He asked, he seemed worried, stretching out a hand to me but I flew to the end of the bed, out of his touch.

“Don’t touch me.” I shrieked. I couldn’t move any further, I was now away from his touch yet I still felt trapped with him.

“What’s this shit, Emily? We’re married. You can’t run away from me.” His voice had begun losing that lover’s patience that was in it initially. His voice was moving back to the way I knew it to be. To that of Alexandro King.

“Why don’t you go back to Alisha?” I snapped at him, pulling the shirt over my knee but still feeling naked, the imprint of his hands on me wasn’t leaving and this shirt made it feel like he was still touching me. I wanted to get out of it and throw it away, then wash my skin and chant to myself that I didn’t want this man’s touch.

“Is this about Alisha? Are you jealous? Nothing is going on between us. I didn’t touch her.” He explained, a smile rising by the sides of his lips again, making me angry.

“I don’t care if you slept with her or not.” I snapped, I hated the relief that swelled in my chest. The peace that came to my heart. The realization that I had truly staked a claim on this Alexandro who was mine in name only.

Alexandro slipped up the bed and slowly moved closer to me, “I didn’t touch her. I didn’t sleep with her. Come here, Emily.” He said I hated how easily he could switch his voice and sound so sexy. The vibration in his voice seemed to find its way under my skin and send sizzles up my breasts, tightening my nipples.

When his hands came around my waist and his lips found my neck, all reluctance flew off my throat, instead, moans came out instead. My knees went weak when his hands grabbed my thighs again, my head angling to give him more access to my throat.

His fingers were bold and strong, few days of luxury had my skin soft and tender, making his touch more pleasurable, this feeling was more intense than I ever thought it would be.

I moaned protest as his hand left my ass, I had hoped he would move them to that point where I was wet and dripping but instead, he took them away totally.

“Aaahhhhh,” I screamed when his hands groped around my breasts through the shirt, squeezing them so badly it hurt and still I didn’t want him to stop.

When he withdrew his hands at me and screamed, I opened my eyes, my hands bringing his back to them. He smiled. That devil’s smile.

I was a slave to his touch and all I wanted was more.

My brain had shut down and there was no thinking, all I did was feel.

“You want me to touch you?” He asked, his hands playing over my breasts, but not touching them like he did before.

“Yes.” I murmured, shy but wanting.’

At my reply, he let go of me completely.

“Then take off the shirt.”

I didn’t even consider that I would be stark naked while he was still very much dressed. The shirt lay beside me on the bed in seconds.

I sat there on the bed, naked to his eyes, and his touch. I loved the fire that came alive in his eyes, my mouth watered at the bulge in his pants. It told me I didn’t just want him, he wanted me too.

“Fuck, Emily.” His teeth caught my nipple. One hand holding my thigh down and the other keeping my neck bent to face the ceiling and restraining my breath while he fed on my breasts, with teeth and tongue, delivering both pain and pleasure.

An endless series of moans escaped me.