Chaste (McCullough Mountain) (54 page)

Her
gaze flitted to his hard on and back to his face. She reached out and shut off
the water. “Your back’s not hurt.”

“Sure
it is,” he said weakly.

Her
gloved hands fisted at her side. Where the hell did she get that outfit? “Why
don’t you want to have sex with me?”

“What
are you talking about? We had sex yesterday.”

She
looked at him like he was crazy. “Oral doesn’t count.”

It
counted before they were married as the sex they couldn’t have.
Don’t say
that. It’ll only piss her off more.
“I was just rinsing off and then I was
coming back down to attack your sexy ass.”

Her
expression softened, but her gaze still studied him as though she didn’t
believe him. Doubt flashed in her eyes. “Fine. I’ll be waiting.”

She
turned and he waited until she left to exhale. After closing the curtain and
turning the water back on, he had the most uneventful climax of his life. As he
finished he felt like such an asshole. Evidence of his betrayal washed down the
drain, but his guilt remained.

He
found Ashlynn waiting on their bed, little red shoes perched on the coverlet.
He schooled his expression and approached. “You look stunning, love. Where did
you get all this stuff?” His finger traced the soft crimson contour of her lips
and she lowered her lashes, turning her mouth to his palm to leave a red kiss.

“I
went shopping today and I thought it would be nice to pick up something sexy to
wear for my husband.”

His
finger slowly toured the curves of her breasts and traced down to the black
lace covering her sex. She arched and reached for his towel. Although she tried
to hide her confusion, he saw it flash in her eyes as she noticed he was no
longer hard.

“Come
to bed,” she whispered in that throaty voice. It wouldn’t take long for him to
be hard again.

He
climbed over her and her legs stretched beneath his, her arms extending into
the pillows. His mouth found hers and she delivered one of the most searing kisses
he’d ever had in his life. His body shot to life and he couldn’t resist
surrendering to everything she offered.

His
hand coasted over her corset and found her sex wet and wanting. He pulled the
lace aside and filled her with his fingers. She moaned and arched as he slowly
played with her. His cock dragged over the silk of her stockings already
leaving a trail of pre-come on the lace.

He
carefully unhooked the little line of snaps at her breasts and perfect ivory
flesh burst forth. His mouth teased her nipples and she cried out, his thumb stroking
her clit as she tightened around his middle finger.

He
pulled the rest of the lingerie off her body and tossed it aside. They kissed
and licked and touched for as long as he could hold out and then he had an idea.

“So
what did I do to deserve all this?”

She
sighed, her eyes a dark shade of chocolate and her mouth slack from kisses and
orgasms. “I just figured it would be nice to treat you to a night of fantasy.”

“Fantasy,
eh?”

“Mm-hmm.
You can have your wicked way with me.”

He
plucked at her nipple, stroking her and keeping her just past that edge of
reason. “So I can do whatever I want?”

“Whatever
you want,” she breathed and keened as he pinched the tip of her pink nipple.

“There’s
something I’ve wanted to do with you for a while. Can we try?”

“Sure.
I’m your wife. I’m here to please you.”

Had
there ever been more beautiful words? “Turn around on your belly.”

She
blinked and nodded, slowly rolling to her stomach. He climbed behind her thighs
and ducked low to lick up her glossy slit. She preened and he spent a few
minutes there because he couldn’t resist. She was so pink and perfect.

His
mouth followed her slit up to the crease of her ass and his tongue found her
little rosette. She stiffened and he held her still.

“Kelly?”

“Shhh.
Trust me.”

His
finger delved into her creamy sex and she slowly relaxed. He gathered her sweet
honey and spread it to the little flower of her ass. When his fingertip pressed
in she nearly shot off the bed.

“Kelly!”

He
pressed his forehead to the soft curve of her back. “Please, love. It’ll feel
good. I know you’ll like it.”

He
sensed her thinking and worked the fingers of his other hand into her sex,
distracting her. Soon he sensed her surrender and took it as consent. He worked
her pussy like a master. Made her cry like a cat in heat. Once her skin
glistened with sweat and she was rocking on her knees with blatant need, he reached
in the drawer on his side of the bed, just next to where he kept his tissues
for J.I.L.L and grabbed the small bottle of lube.

After
oiling up his length, he played with her some more, carefully slicking his way.
Lining up his cock to her back entrance he slowly pressed forward.

Her
shoulders quivered as the sound of her harsh breathing filled the room. His hand
petted from the column of her throat down her spine. She tensed and he soothed,
making slow, shallow thrusts into her virgin hole.

The
further he pressed the more he realized how much he missed this connection, the
feel of his body blanketing hers, filling her, the glove of her body holding
him. His need doubled and he couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust and
filled her ass.

She
grunted and her head dropped to her arms. “Are you okay?”
Fuck. She’s not ready for this, you prick.

“Move
or do something,” she said and he considered pulling out and leaving her alone.

You’re
a fucking pussy. She isn’t ready for this and you know it! She’d give you
anything and you can’t even give her honesty because you’re a fucking coward!

Smothering
his self-loathing, he moved carefully and she slowly adjusted. Taking measured
strokes in her tight little hole he guided her hips and saw the moment pain
transcended to pleasure. Her discomfort gave way to long guttural moans.

“Better?”

“I…I
don’t know. It’s different.”

He
thrust again and she gasped. “If you don’t like it we can stop.”

“I
don’t know if I like it. Keep going.”

He
picked up his pace and she began to really get into it. Her tiny hands gripped
the pillows and she cried out as he increased the pressure of each plunge. He
reached beneath her and found her clit and she went crazy.

His
name was a mantra she cried out over and over again and soon it became too
frenzied, too hot for him to hold back. He pounded into her and, as she came, tiny
quivers of her pulsing sex penetrated that thin wall of tissue and he shouted
her name as he crossed that edge with her.

Minutes
later he cleaned them both up and pulled the covers over her shoulder. Her eyes
were closed, a satisfied curve to her lips, and she sighed. “That was new.”

“Did
you like it?”

“I’m
still undecided. I didn’t like it at first, but I can’t complain about the
end.”

He
kissed her lips, the makeup now completely worn off. “I love you, Ashlynn.”

She
exhaled happily. “I love you too, Kelly.”

The
following morning Kelly had some shit to deal with. Namely, his guilt. Every
time he glanced at Ashlynn over the breakfast table she blushed and looked
away. He may have bought himself some time, but he needed to come up with a
better plan. As fun as last night was, he missed simply making love to his
wife.

You
could just go to the doctor’s.

He
pushed the thought away, not ready to face the fear that there might be
something wrong with his manhood.

He
was watching TV when Ashlynn came down the stairs, dressed, with her keys in her
hand. “I’ll be back.”

“Where
you going?”

“Confession.”

He
stilled.
Do something!
“I thought we could go out to lunch.”

She
came over and kissed him. “Sure. I should be back in a half hour.”

He
grabbed her hand. “Go to confession another time. Let’s go out.”

She
tugged her hand away and giggled. “Kelly, I have to. I…” She lowered her voice
to a whisper. “We did bad things.”

His
eyes widened. “You can’t confess that!”

She
frowned. “Why not? It’s a sin.”

Dear
God! Images of Father Mark’s shock and disapproval flashed though his mind, the
thud of the Holy Bible dropping out of his hand an echo rattling his brain. “We’re
married.”

“And
the church believes it’s a sin for a husband to ejaculate anywhere but in his
wife’s vagina.”

“But
you give blowjobs.”

“I
confess them too.”

What?
“Jesus Christ,
Ashlynn!”

“Hey!”

Pictures
of Father Mark sitting in that little closet listening to his wife’s confession
of sucking her husband’s dick joined the other images. No, no, no, no.
No!

He
stood up. “I don’t want you telling a priest about our personal life.”

She
scowled at him. “I’m telling God.”

“He
sees all. I’m sure He knows.”

“Kelly,
you’re being ridiculous. Do you think I’m the only person who confesses this
stuff?”

Yes!
“How specific do
you get?”

“I
don’t know. I just say what I have to say and then I do my penance.”

He
knew Ashlynn’s faith was an unbending matter in their life, but this was taking
things too far. “Ashlynn, I don’t want you telling him that shit.”

“Well,
I’m sorry. It’s what I believe.”

“And
what if he tells you to stop? It’s a sin to knowingly confess something you
intend to do again.”

Her
lips tightened. He had her there.

“Will
you stop doing all that other stuff if a priest tells you to?”

“Well,
no…but most of the time it’s all part of making love. So long as it ends with a
chance of procreation I don’t think we’re breaking any rules.”

His
head was going to explode. He turned away and paced. “Please don’t confess what
we did.”

She
was quiet. As he stared out the window he heard her slowly approach. “Why,
Kelly? What I say in confession is between me and God. No one will treat you
any different.”

He
shut his eyes. He was treating himself different, seeing himself as half a man.
“I just think some things are private.”

Her
hand pressed to his back. “Kelly, look at me.”

He
slowly turned and saw she was really trying to understand why this bothered him
so much.

She
looked at the floor. “Last night…did you intentionally do that so we wouldn’t
have conventional sex? I’m not saying I regret it. I like experiencing
everything with you. But it seems like it’s been ages since we actually made
love.”

He
sighed and dropped onto the couch. His actions over the past month were doing
them no good. Ashlynn was clearly getting mixed signals and he didn’t know what
the fuck was happening to him. It was time to come clean.

“I’m
scared, Ashlynn.”

She
lowered herself next to him. “What are you afraid of?”

“I…”
Fuck. “I don’t know if I can give you a baby.”

She
laughed. It was a nervous reflex that only lasted a beat, but it was there.
“Kelly, I’m sure we’ll eventually have children. Whether you impregnate me or—”

“Whoa!
Who else would do the job?”

“I’m
just saying there are lots of ways for a woman to conceive. There are fertility
studies, insemination, surrogacy, adoption. For all we know everything’s
perfectly fine. We haven’t even been married a year. It takes time.”

Those
excuses no longer worked for him. “I know something’s wrong.”

“You…”
She blinked in confusion. “Did you talk to the doctor and not tell me?”

“No.
I just feel it. Sammy and Mallory can’t sit on a toilet seat without getting
pregnant. McCullough men are potent. That’s why there’s so many of us. It
should’ve happened by now. Something’s wrong.”

Her
hand pressed over his knee. “You won’t know until you speak to someone.”

His
voice was barely a whisper. “But what if there’s something wrong with me? I
don’t want you to have someone else’s child. You’re
my
wife.”

“And
I’ll always be your wife. If it came to that and we had a child outside of the
traditional sense, it would still be yours. We would be that child’s parents no
matter how it came into existence.”

“I
think you have to be a man to appreciate what I’m saying.”

“I
know what you’re saying, Kelly. You have a lot of pride and I respect that, but
don’t let your pride get in the way of common sense. Go to the specialist. It’s
a simple test. You’re assuming the worst and we don’t have all the facts.”