This far north, the sky doesn’t fully darken in summer. Aquamarine edges circle an indigo zenith, the inkiness punctured by stars.
My breath fogs on the window and I swipe absently to clear it again. The house sits dark and quiet around me. The baby sleeps, for now. I cup my tender breasts and smile. She should be down for the night now after her recent nursing. Her eyes were watchful on mine as she fed. I could gaze at her for hours. She has her father’s eyes. More my colour, but his shape and it warms my heart.
He’ll be home soon, my husband. I ache for him. Ache to feel his strong arms around me, wrapping me in love. He’ll want to wake the babe up, and even though I’ll scold and say no, I know I’ll cave. To see them together is my miracle.
Out front, the lawn is a dark square bordered by a waist-high craggy wall separating grass from the deserted street. Across the way, boats fill the marina and the sound of their soft, discordant clanging wafts in through the open bedroom window along with the scent of sweet honeysuckle.
The noise the back door makes opening, then clicking shut, has my heart racing with anticipation. He’s early tonight. Usually I’ve a good hour after nursing the babe. I let him find me, lulled by the yachts as I hear his footsteps treading the stairs, avoiding the loose one with practiced ease.
He veers off to peek into the baby’s room and I hear whispered words of love. I’m still smiling when he slides his arms around me and nuzzles my neck from behind. Stubble scrapes my skin and I tilt to give him access.
“I thought you’d be later yet.” My voice is quiet as I trace his forearms.
“Couldn’t wait any longer.” He nuzzles some more and I sigh, head tipping back to rest on his shoulder. His hands slide up my belly to cup my swollen breasts.
“Careful with those.” My tone is amused, but god, they’re still so sensitive, six months on.
My amusement changes to a throaty moan as he thumbs my nipples, his voice urgent in my ear.
“I need you, now.”
The patience he displays in unzipping my long summer skirt belies the urgency in his words, my arousal ratcheting up with each liberated tine. Soon the material pools at my feet, kicked to the side as I step out.
Hands tug at my t-shirt hem, cotton following the ascent of my arms until I’m clad only in panties and the night's glow. He turns me to face him, eyes dark and wild on mine. My heart beats a little faster, sensing his mood. His hands skim into my hair, twisting silken lengths around one fist until he tugs and my head tips upwards.
His lips are soft on mine. A teasing brush, a skim then gone, a promise of much more to come. I strain for more but he holds my hair firm, keeps his eyes on mine as his other hand wanders. He finds a nipple again and pinches, his lips pursing in reflected sympathy as I groan.
“You like that.”
It’s not a question but I answer anyway.
“God, yes.”
His eyes are fierce with possession as his fingers skim south, stravaiging across my sensitive flesh. He drinks in each change in my expression, fingertips circling when he senses a weakness to exploit. I’m alight with need by the time he reaches the shallow cleft between my legs.
He pauses. Traces a digit over the material, damp with arousal.
“Take them off.”
There’s no give in his grip as I fumble lace over my hips until they fall. His finger rests at the very peak of my valley. His breath is hot on my face as he slides his fingers down, scraping my clit, unrelenting until they’re curled inside me.
“So wet.” His soft words are triumphant.
I flush. I can never hide the effect he has on me. My velvety walls clamp around him. His fingers beckon, just once, and I groan and when I do he crushes his lips to mine, swallowing my cries and his fingers curl into my front wall again and again until I’m sobbing with need against his lips.
He stops, abruptly.
Waits.
Pulls back and watches as he thumbs my clit.
I shudder, arching toward him.
“Please...”
“Please what?” He leans in to nibble on my ear.
I don’t even know. I need everything.
He continues. “You want more? Want to cum?” And even softer, “Want to get fucked?”
I nod to all three. His voice is in my head. Taking over. I’m shockingly close to orgasm and he’s only been in the door five minutes. His fingers move lazily inside me as he pulls back and watches me again. My legs tremble as he walks me to the wall next to the open door and presses me against it.
His grip moves from my hair to my breast, fingers squeezing as his head lowers to lick around a hard nipple. Eyes look up, catching mine, the shape so achingly familiar as he closes his lips to suckle. I feel the milk flow as he tastes me and then my head is tilting back against the wall and I’m moaning quietly as his teeth graze me.
He looks up once more. Smirks.
“Don’t wake the babe, now.”
It’s a challenge. I know it is, even as my fingers splay against the wall. But knowing doesn’t help, not when my nipple stings so fucking beautifully with every bite.
He’s all contrast. When his teeth release one, he kisses his way gently across to the other and as he delicately laps at this one, he crooks his fingers once more inside my soaked channel, forcing the air from my lungs as I gasp at the fullness.
And then his teeth are on me again. First at my breast and then up to my neck, nipping in a way that lets me know I’ll have marks in the morning, and then back to my lobe. His whisper in my ear is hot and urgent and inescapable.
“Don’t cum.”
I groan with frustration. It’s the opposite of what I want to hear, but I’ll try because he’s asked me to and because I trust him with my body. He doesn’t make it easy, fingers playing inside of me as his teeth nip. He avoids my clit, he knows me well, but every time his clever digits massage my front wall I think I’m going to fall.