The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage - Chapter 17: Chapter 17
You are reading The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage, Chapter 17: Chapter 17. Read more chapters of The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage.
I'd settled into life at his company, and everything felt perfect. Marriage never came up in conversation—neither of us brought it up. Maybe the timing wasn't right, but honestly, I didn't need more than this.
His appetite for me never waned. Even after six months, he still couldn't get enough.
That morning, golden sunlight spilled across the bed. His hands traced my face, then drifted down my shoulders and back, leaving a trail of tingling warmth. Half-asleep, I shifted onto my stomach, exposing the curve of my spine and hips to the cool air.
His fingers glided over my skin before settling on the swell of my backside, kneading gently.
"Darling, your skin is flawless…" His breath tickled my ear, voice rough with sleep.
Too drowsy to open my eyes, I mumbled, "Mmm… stop teasing."
A low chuckle rumbled against me as his fingers slipped between my thighs, tracing the edges of my most sensitive spot. Infuriating—he always knew exactly how to unravel me.
After last night, I was still tender, swollen from his relentless attention. He'd taken me three, maybe four times, filling me until I was dripping with him even now.
He pressed against my back, nipping my earlobe while his hands roamed—cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. A sharp jolt of pleasure made me arch into his touch with a soft gasp.
His chest molded against me, and I could feel him—hard, insistent—pressing into the curve of my back.
"See? It wants you again…" His voice was thick, breath uneven.
"Mmm… I'm exhausted." My limbs still felt heavy from the night before.
He laughed, dark and warm. "Then just relax and let me take care of you…" He nudged my thighs apart, and then heat pressed against me, stretching me slowly.
Even slick from last night, his size made me tense for a second.
He stilled, pressing kisses along my spine. Always so patient.
Once I relaxed, he lost control. Each deep thrust sent sparks through me, pulling breathy moans from my lips.
The room filled with the scent of us—salt, skin, sweat.
Then his rhythm turned punishing, driving into me with relentless force.
I fisted the sheets, whimpering—he loved that.
One hand slipped between my legs, fingers circling just right as he kept up his brutal pace.
When he finally spilled inside me, he groaned, collapsing onto my back and scattering kisses along my neck.
We stayed tangled together until I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist. My throat tightened. "I love you."
"I love you too, sweetheart." He brushed his lips over mine, then tapped my nose with a smirk. "Greedy. We're out of time."
With that, he slipped out of bed, all lean muscle and effortless grace as he headed to the kitchen. I watched his retreating form, still in awe.
His appetite for me never waned. Even after six months, he still couldn't get enough.
That morning, golden sunlight spilled across the bed. His hands traced my face, then drifted down my shoulders and back, leaving a trail of tingling warmth. Half-asleep, I shifted onto my stomach, exposing the curve of my spine and hips to the cool air.
His fingers glided over my skin before settling on the swell of my backside, kneading gently.
"Darling, your skin is flawless…" His breath tickled my ear, voice rough with sleep.
Too drowsy to open my eyes, I mumbled, "Mmm… stop teasing."
A low chuckle rumbled against me as his fingers slipped between my thighs, tracing the edges of my most sensitive spot. Infuriating—he always knew exactly how to unravel me.
After last night, I was still tender, swollen from his relentless attention. He'd taken me three, maybe four times, filling me until I was dripping with him even now.
He pressed against my back, nipping my earlobe while his hands roamed—cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. A sharp jolt of pleasure made me arch into his touch with a soft gasp.
His chest molded against me, and I could feel him—hard, insistent—pressing into the curve of my back.
"See? It wants you again…" His voice was thick, breath uneven.
"Mmm… I'm exhausted." My limbs still felt heavy from the night before.
He laughed, dark and warm. "Then just relax and let me take care of you…" He nudged my thighs apart, and then heat pressed against me, stretching me slowly.
Even slick from last night, his size made me tense for a second.
He stilled, pressing kisses along my spine. Always so patient.
Once I relaxed, he lost control. Each deep thrust sent sparks through me, pulling breathy moans from my lips.
The room filled with the scent of us—salt, skin, sweat.
Then his rhythm turned punishing, driving into me with relentless force.
I fisted the sheets, whimpering—he loved that.
One hand slipped between my legs, fingers circling just right as he kept up his brutal pace.
When he finally spilled inside me, he groaned, collapsing onto my back and scattering kisses along my neck.
We stayed tangled together until I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist. My throat tightened. "I love you."
"I love you too, sweetheart." He brushed his lips over mine, then tapped my nose with a smirk. "Greedy. We're out of time."
With that, he slipped out of bed, all lean muscle and effortless grace as he headed to the kitchen. I watched his retreating form, still in awe.
End of The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage Chapter 17. Continue reading Chapter 18 or return to The Woman Trapped in a Sexless Marriage book page.