I’d read the word enough in my books that it should have been easy to say. Pussy, cock, length, member, cunt, I’d seen them all written in little black words on the screen of my kindle. I’d read so many of them over my years being hospitalized that I figured I was pretty much desensitized to all of it.
But now that I was being confronted, I found my mouth opening and no sound coming out.
This seemed to please Edison to no end because he grinned down at me like a lunatic, strands of black hair flopping into his gold eyes and making him appear more boyish than I’d ever seen him before.
“Say it for me, pet, and I’ll make you see stars. Say: ‘please touch my pussy, Edison.’”
Edison’s fingers slid up so far that if he inched over just a little bit more, he’d be touching me. I didn’t know much about my husband—we’d only had a few weeks together after all—but I knew that if I gave him the chance that he would make every single one of my fantasies come true.
“T-touch my pussy, Edison,” I managed to get out, my words a bit strangled as I felt my face burn with enough embarrassment that surely my skin was starting to match the same red as my hair.
When he didn’t move, my eyes lifted to meet his and found them to be full of amusement. “Why aren’t you doing anything?”
“Because you didn’t say please.”
I was about to scream.
“You’re kidding me.”
“I never kid, Perrie, which you’ll learn soon enough.”
Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, I repeated myself. “Touch my pussy, please, or I swear I’ll go find someone else to do it for me.”
My little jab made the alpha above me growl. “You’ll do no such thing.”
Then he was leaning back, balancing himself on both knees as the fingers of one of his slipped in between moist folds. I gasped with the suddenness of it.
With his free hand he pushed up the chiffon material of my skirt and looked at me, bare and spread underneath him. “I knew it’d be pretty. Did you know how pink and plump this pussy of yours is, pet?”
I covered my face with my hands as he explored, my hips twitching upwards when his pointer finger barely brushed past the sensitive bundle of nerves that sat towards the top of the folds. “And your clit is already so very swollen.”
“It’s embarrassing,” I managed to say, tamping down on the indecent moan that was threatening to leave me.
Because my hands were over my eyes, I couldn’t see Edison’s face but I could hear him chuckle. “You’ll have to get used to it seeing I plan on doing more to you than just touching your clit. Now, let’s find out just how tight you are.”
Before I could ask what he meant by that, his pointer finger which had been ghosting over my clit slipped inside of me, forcing the entrance of my pussy to quickly accommodate the sudden intruder.
It was tight and slightly uncomfortable and I swore I could feel each ridge of the digit as he gently moved his finger from side-to-side. “Very tight indeed.”
Edison’s thumb pressed into my clit and this time I couldn’t hold in the noise of need that leaked from in between my hands.
“Do you like it, Perrie?”
He paused when I didn’t move, his price for pleasure still clear. The burning desire for him to keep going was what finally made me uncover my face and nod. “I do.”
“Good, because I’m going to be the first man to make you come from something other than your own fingers, then I’m going to do it again, but with this instead.” Taking one of my hands in his, he brought it up to the lump in his slacks.
He wants me just as much as I want him, I realized with a jolt as I felt the lump grow stiffer under my touch.
“Are you up for it?” Edison asked, his eyes on where my hand was caressing him.
It was too intense for me, a relative newbie to the actual physical aspects of married life and for just a moment it was almost too hard to breathe. Forcing myself to suck in a long pull of our combined scents, and finding that it seemed to soothe my nerves, I nodded again. “But are you sure you are? I’d hate for you to break a hip.”
Edison’s expression slackened into shock, his gold eyes wide at my teasing before he threw his head back and started to laugh.
If I’d learned one thing about Edison and Rhodes over the past few weeks it was that they both hated and loved when I teased them about being old. I was sure it reminded them of the fifteen year age gap that we shared between us, but it also made them more comfortable with me—the teasing forming a tenuous bond between us in the face of uncertainty.
“I can assure you that my hips are very healthy, pet,” Edison said as he slipped a second finger inside of me. “And I looked forward to showing you exactly how healthy I am just as soon as I feel this tight cunt spasm around my fingers.”
The tightness of two fingers was almost overwhelming as he gently began to slide them in and out, wriggling them separate from each other before moving them in tandem as his thumb circled my clit.
One of his knees was still pressed in between my thighs, almost interlocking our legs, so as he began to quicken the pace of his fingers, my legs began to rise up almost of their own volition. The top of one of my knees brushed what had to be his painfully hard length straining against his pants.
“Let go and come for me,” Edison muttered with a grunt, his pupils completely blown now as a flush started to ride up the side of his neck, stark against the crisp white shirt he was wearing.
Before—when it was just me by myself—I could control how fast I wanted things to go. But now that Edison was touching me it dawned on me how little control I had over it and my body seemed to be rising to the occasion clearly enjoying being told what to do by the alpha above me.
My inner omega seemed to have fully come awake and was practically panting inside of my mind, urging me to do as Edison bid.
Electric sensations from the touch of his fingers had my hips rolling up to bring him further inside of me as I tilted my chin up to the gauzy canopy of my bridal nest and came with a garbled scream.
Edison’s fingers never stopped moving as I spasmed around them. My eyes rolled back in my head as I tried and failed to pull in a deep breath, my lungs desperately sipping on the available air around me. Edison leaned down and began to shower my bare neck with kisses, whispering praises that my muddled mind failed to translate into anything coherent as my legs continued to twitch long after the crest of my orgasm had ended.
Then someone knocked on the door, causing Edison to stiffen against me.
“Someone had better be dying,” he barked over his shoulder.
“Well, I hate to break it to you,” Rhodes’ voice, unperturbed by the venom in Edison’s words, came sheepishly from the other side of the door.
