His face was easy to read. He was appalled, shocked, sick at heart. Well, too bad. He’d wanted the truth. So there it was.
He grimaced. “No wonder you didn’t want to have sex. I wouldn’t have wanted to have sex with me, either.”
She picked at a piece of lint on the sheet. “It’s not all your fault. Part of it was all me. I woke up one day and realized I wasn’t young anymore. And then our friends started getting divorced, and I got scared. I knew I needed to spice things up in the bedroom, but the harder I tried, the more frozen I felt inside. Which is a hell of a way to approach sex. But I was afraid if I didn’t entertain you, you’d be long gone.”
She saw him swallow. His gaze was steady when he spoke. “I would never divorce you, Danita. Some days when I look in the mirror, I still can’t believe you picked me. I love you. Nothing in my life matters more to me than you and our boys. I should have told you that when they left, but I thought it would make you feel worse.”
She winced. “I wish you had. I needed you to hold me and share the pain. But I thought you weren’t experiencing what I was feeling. And that hurt almost as much as losing my babies. It seemed as if the three men I loved most had abandoned me all at once. And I was devastated.”
“I’m sorry.” His face was gray . . . haunted.
She drew her knees to her chest. “I always loved having sex with you. And it scared me when my body stopped responding. But they say the brain is the most powerful sex organ, and I guess my head was in control. I should have tried to explain what was going on inside my thoughts. And for that, I owe
you
an apology.”
He dropped his head, his posture defeated. “Where do we go from here?”
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I’m so scared,” she whispered, her throat tight. “What if we can’t get back to where we were?”
“I don’t think we can.”
Her heart froze in her chest. This was it, then. Love wasn’t always enough. “I see.”
His rough laugh was not amused. “I don’t think you do. We can’t go back, my love. But we can go forward. At least I hope we can.”
The raw vulnerability on his face pained her. When she was silent, he continued. “But you have to promise me honesty, Danita.”
She took his hand. “I could have faked orgasms all those times, but I didn’t. Even when it was painful and awkward for both of us.” She said it simply. So he would remember the disappointing nights and understand. And she saw in his expression that he did.
He linked their fingers, his big hand warm on hers. “I have to know one more thing, sweetheart. Our second session here . . . when our directions said we were
not
to have orgasms. What happened? The stairwell. You were . . .” He stopped, clearly at a loss for words.
She felt her face heat, but he was right. He deserved an explanation. Especially since every time after that she froze up again. She broke the clasp of their fingers and put her hands to her face. This was hard to talk about. “The paper said that I was not supposed to climax. Suddenly, I didn’t have to worry about pleasing you. I wasn’t going to seem sexually defective. It was okay if you played with me and nothing happened.”
“But something
did
happen,” he said softly. She could feel his gaze on her down-turned face. “You went wild in my arms.”
“Because there was nothing to prove, I guess.”
He sucked in a shocked breath. “Good Lord, Danita. I never expected you to be a trained monkey. Sex is about mutual pleasure. At least it used to be.”
She stood up, no longer able to be so near him. But now she had to face all the titillating furnishings in the room. Gulp. So she decided it was safer to keep her gaze on her husband. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. And the harder I tried, the worse things got.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me something. On Monday, when I took you like a caveman . . . literally. Did that excite you? Did you come?”
She nodded, remembering his quasi-rough treatment. “It was erotic and unexpected. You were so . . . animalistic. The novelty of it all stunned me. And yes . . . I did have an orgasm.”
It was his turn to wince. “Well, that’s just great,” he said sourly. “If I handle you with respect and tenderness, you can’t respond. But if I act like a selfish bastard, you can get off. That sounds kind of sick and twisted to me. Maybe we’ve gotten so fucked up we don’t even know how to do this anymore.”
Her jaw dropped. “You don’t mean that.”
Now he stood up as well. “I’m screwed, Danita. I can’t touch you without wondering if I’m doing it right. What would you suggest? ” There was quiet despair in his voice.
She looked around the room to give herself time to think. “We have to break old patterns,” she said finally. “We’ll start over, sexually speaking. And no second-guessing each other’s motives or thoughts. If we want to know, we’ll ask. And you can’t take it personally if I don’t climax. I’ll do my best, but no promises.”
He raked his hands through his hair. “God, Danita, I don’t care if you have a bloody orgasm.” He shut his mouth abruptly, his expression comically chagrined. “That came out wrong.”
She giggled. “I hope so.” Then she sobered. “I want to concentrate on making love to you without worrying about the ending. I want to feel sensual and sexual and relaxed. I want to have fun.”
He nodded slowly. “Agreed.”
They faced each other with the bed between them. She kicked off her sandals, pulled her top over her head, and flung it aside. Clad only in her bra and shorts, she teased him. “So no trying to make me come.”
He held up his hands. “I swear.”
“And no hiding your feelings. If you’re sad and upset, I want to know it.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. The fabric of his pants tightened across his abdomen, and she could see his erection. “I swear I’ll cry on your shoulder every chance I get.”
She grinned, feeling her heavy heart lighten. “Smart-ass.”
He cocked his head. “Smart? Doubtful. Sexy? Maybe . . . you want to check it out?” He stripped off his clothes so rapidly, she blinked and had to clear her throat. He was a man in his prime . . . hard-bodied, tough, intensely masculine. And his penis. She tried to drag her gaze from it, but the thick column of flesh was mesmerizing. Particularly with her own hunger building by the minute.
He was waiting for her to say something, but a sudden, inexplicable shyness paralyzed her vocal chords.
He came around the bed and gently removed her bra. But he didn’t touch her breasts otherwise. They stood there, breathing the same air, the room fraught with overtones of sexual hunger, painful uncertainty, and a fragile blossom of hope.
He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Why don’t you take control, my love? Make me your sex slave. Do with me what you will. Then my giving you an orgasm will be a moot point.”
She shook her head, knowing instinctively that it was the wrong approach. “No,” she said simply. “I want you to be sexually dominant. It has to be that way. At least until I can unlearn this stupid internal mechanism that shuts down all my responses at a certain point.”
He frowned. “You think that will work?”
She placed a palm on his warm chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the layers of skin and bone. “I don’t know. But I’d like to give it a try.” She linked her arms around his neck. “Take me and make love to me. No holds barred. Give it your best shot.”
Shaun had known real fear a time or two in his life. The night his twin sons were born and Danita’s blood pressure spiked. The day a child ran in front of his car on a rainy street. The time his mother tripped and fell down a partial flight of stairs.
But all those terrible moments faded into the past in light of this new and heart-stopping challenge. Was he man enough to risk it?
He remembered their recent pledge about honesty. “I’m scared,” he admitted hoarsely. This woman was his life. The thought of hurting her in any way, mentally or otherwise, was unbearable.
She kissed him softly. “I trust you, Shaun. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He took a deep, ragged breath and scooped her into his arms. It was the work of minutes to fold back the covers, deposit her on the bed, and secure her wrists with handcuffs. Apparently his quick motions startled her, because her eyes widened to a wary gaze.
With her upper body immobilized, he stripped off her shorts and panties. He paused to kiss her sex, lingering to nuzzle her with his nose and breathe in her erotic scent. Danita moved restlessly, but he ignored her.
Next, he turned on all the TVs but lowered the volumes so that the sexual soundtrack didn’t intrude overmuch. He saw Danita’s eyes go to the nearest screen. He grinned inwardly as he watched her cheeks flush and her teeth nibble her bottom lip. Her nipples tightened and hardened as she monitored the action on the set.
With his lovely wife temporarily occupied, he was able to go about his business unobserved. He gathered up the case of dildos and carried it to the bed. When he sat down by her hip, the mattress dipped.
She looked up at him, and then she noticed what was in his hands. Now she turned beet red, and her breathing began to come in short, sharp jerks.
He made a big show of selecting a specimen from the velvet-lined box. It was a nice collection, no expense spared. The one he finally picked was surely an antique. It was realistically carved ivory, and the warm cream shade of the shaft suggested another era.
Danita tugged at her wrists. He ignored her. He picked up a tube of lubricant and spread his wife’s thighs. Gently, he smeared the sticky substance all over the folds of her sex, but he was careful to avoid her clitoris.
Then he took the ivory implement, tested its weight in his hands, and began to press it deep into his wife’s pussy. Danita cried out, and he stopped. “Am I hurting you?” It was a genuine question. The thing was big and hard.
Danita shook her head. “No.” Her barely audible response reassured him. He moved the dildo deeper, probing gently, twisting so the carvings in the ivory would stimulate her sensitive inner flesh.
He used it like that for long minutes, slowly most of the time, but occasionally with quick sharp thrusts. He saw in her face the instant she neared her climax. He withdrew the toy and put his hand over her mouth. “You must be completely quiet,” he hissed. “You don’t want the people out there to hear you.”
Again he entered her. His own cock was nearly as hard as the fake one. But he ignored the need to fuck her. This was too much fun.
Danita’s hips lifted an inch from the mattress as she sought the relief she needed. He’d been careful to avoid her clit. The omission had drawn out the torture. Danita would climax. He was sure of it. But without deliberate stimulation of that tiny bundle of nerves, the impending explosion would be postponed.
He moved the shaft more quickly, still with his hand over his wife’s mouth. Her eyes were large and frantic. She bit his fingers. He jerked them away with a curse. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. “You’ll pay for that.”
He left the ivory penis in his wife’s pussy and moved up on the bed. Now he teased her breasts. Danita had lovely tits, full and round with rosy nipples. He nipped the tips one at a time with his teeth, laughing softly when she cried out and called him names.
Seeing the lewd object protruding from her body made him crazy. He bent and kissed her roughly, devouring her mouth and squeezing her breasts at the same time.
Her lovely eyes pleaded with him. “Let me go.”
He studied her nudity, the complete sexual abandon of her pose. “No,” he said simply. “I’m not finished.”
He straddled her waist and rested most of his weight on her. He took his shaft and rubbed it from base to tip. The stimulation was almost too much. He was on the edge.
She watched him, her face flushed, her chest heaving. Slowly, he began to work his cock with one hand, closing his eyes and giving in to temptation. With his free hand, he reached behind him and moved the dildo in his lover’s sex. It was difficult to concentrate on both tasks at the same time, but he was extremely motivated.
Danita tried to escape, but he had her pinned down. He moved the ivory more briskly and her legs twisted restlessly. He pumped his cock, groaning aloud at the raw pleasure. Suddenly, he gripped the head of his prick and rubbed her nipples, shouting as his come shot over his wife’s chest in warm, gushing spurts.
He lifted his leg and rolled to the side, settling on his knees and gasping for breath.
She landed a blow on his hip with her knee. “Do something,” she wailed.
He moved between her legs and grasped the dildo. Their eyes met, hers wild with hunger, his implacable. “No one but me . . . ever.”
She nodded, jerkily.
“And sex every night if I want it.”
Another nod, but he was losing her.
He pressed the thing deeper into his wife’s slick passage. “And you’ll enjoy sex, even if I have to torture you like this night after night.”
He twisted one last time, and covered her mouth with his hand just as she screamed and went rigid in a long, shuddering orgasm.
He moved the ivory shaft slowly as she shivered into relaxation. Then he removed it and he kissed her most intimate flesh. He nudged her clit with his tongue, and Danita protested faintly.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Too soon?”
She glared at him. “Too sensitive.”
He took her ankles and held them apart. “I have seven more dildos to try. And forty-five more minutes to use them. I can’t afford to waste any time.”
She struggled wildly, her hair falling in her face and her skin damp with perspiration. “Don’t you dare.”
He studied the box of toys intently then, keeping a straight face, looked back at his desperate wife. “I don’t know. It seems a shame to waste them.”
Her chest heaved, doing interesting things to her dewy breasts. “Let me go,” she panted, “and I’ll make it worth your while.”