Chapter Eleven

Theodore

My head tells me to push Joanna away, but my heart urges me to bring her closer. She’s not ready—it’s what I keep reminding myself, but with the way she’s looking at me right now, I can tell she is. This feels like the right thing to do. How can you fall for someone so quickly when you barely know them? The heart and mind are strange creatures. So often in conflict but ultimately working together.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” my mind responds, and I pull my lips away from hers.

“You won’t.” My wife’s plea falls from her beautiful plump lips in a breathless moan of need.

“You really want this?” my heart asks, this time, with a quickening of its pace.

“I want to be normal. I’ve been a victim for too long now. I don’t know why, but when you’re near me, my heart beats quicker. I need this.” Joanna comes at me again and joins our lips together. This time, I don’t fight her. I give in to the need surging through me. Despite having come only a few minutes ago, my dick is hard again already, and I want her.

Pulling back for a second time, I rest my forehead against hers.

“If you want me to stop at any point, you say so, and I will. I won’t force anything upon you.”

“I know,” she whispers with a tremble of nervousness mixed with excitement in her voice. “It’s why I want to be with you. You’ll take me as far as I’m ready to go and not any further. You’ll give me what I need because you already know me better than I know myself.”

I bring my lips down to hers. My own breath is hitched and ragged with the need coursing through my body. Pulling her over my naked body, I allow her to straddle my thighs. It gives her the control over what we’re doing. If I were in her position, I would want to have that.

I’m naked, but Joanna is still wearing her pajamas from earlier. I can feel the excitement between her thighs, and her wetness against my bare flesh. She really did enjoy the show I’d just put on for her. My dick hardens more against her, and I know she can feel the length of me poking into her through her clothing. She’s just witnessed the power of an orgasm, and now I am going to use it to show her the pleasure that can come from taking me deep within her...no, not taking, accepting me willingly without pain or torture into her most private place. One I’ll never allow to be abused again.

Leaning forward, I run a kiss over her lips and down her neck. Her PJs button up at the front, so while she supports herself over me, I bring my hands up and start to unfasten them. She lets out a barely audible gasp, and her sapphire eyes shift to watch my dexterous fingers at work.

“One.” I undo the first button, the bottom one. Moving my hands up, I loosen the second and third in a swift movement. “Two, three.”

Joanna’s mouth opens and shuts, trying to bring much needed air into her lungs.

“Please,” she begs, but I can not allow her fervent appeal to affect the deep-rooted control which is embedded within my psyche. If this were a normal woman I was fucking, she’d already be on her back with my dick pistoning in to her so fast she’d forget what damn day of the week it is. But this is my wife, my delicate flower, and I need to take this slowly so we can both savor every moment of our first time together.

My hands start to shake a little with the need for rigid control, and they fumble over the final button before finally freeing it from its frustratingly difficult small button hole.

Sliding my hands up to her shoulders underneath the cotton fabric of her pjs, I remove her top and drop it down onto the bed. Her breasts are a perfect fit for my big hands. The cuts and bruises, which had once marred her skin, have disappeared to leave a stunning feminine form. She’s everything I could have wished for in a partner. It’s as though she was made for me by the gods, not that I believe in that sort of crap. In my opinion, you make your own way in the world, and by protecting Joanna from Nicholas Cavendish, I’ve earned her love, and her body.

I lower my mouth down to her left nipple—its peak is already taut with the sensations and emotions running through her body. Wrapping my tongue around it, I lavish it with attention while tenderly massaging the other breast under my hand.The pink flesh smells of the lavender perfume she uses mixed with a slight scent of sweat from the day’s exertions. It’s purely Joanna, unique to any other woman’s breasts in my experience. I’m in two minds whether to linger here or travel lower to discover her other delights, but the grinding of her hips against my thighs shows me where she needs my attention.

“I’m going to lay you down. Is that all right?” I ask and then press another quick kiss to her breast.

“Yes.” The reply comes quickly, and I place my hands under her hips and adjust us so she’s lying flat on her back on the bed. Her eyes are wild with desire but also mixed with nerves. It dawns on me that together we’re giving her a chance at a first time, again…although this time it’s with her consent.

“Our first time,” I moan into her prickling flesh, sucking and savoring her taste as I move down to her stomach and then even lower.

“Our first time,” she repeats and wraps her hands around the thick strands of my hair. With a subtle strength, she guides my head to where she wants me between her thighs. Inhaling deeply, I can smell her arousal, and my dick hardens so much I’m certain I could pound nails with it. I need her, but I have to go slow. I think there’s only one thing for it. Times-tables. I need to recite them to stop myself from fucking her too hard.

One times one is one. One times two is two.The words are spoken inwardly as I start to lower her pajama bottoms down her svelte legs. She’s had no reason to keep herself trimmed, but the hair on her pussy is shaved into a delicate strip. One times three is three. Fuck. One times four is four.

Joanna settles herself back on the bed and opens her legs wide for me. She gives me the gift of her pussy and the numbers in my head go haywire.

Two times nine is sixteen, no eighteen. Fuck.

“Theo, take me,” Joanna begs, but I can’t answer her. I can’t look at her.

“Three times four is…fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Theo, look at me,” my wife demands, and the words pull my head up from looking at her perfect pussy to her beautiful face. “Twelve,” she tells me.

“What?” I’m confused and shake my head.