The First Sigh

Erotic Prompts Series

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

A week. She hadn't spoken to him in a week. Work had distracted him from her wrath at first. Now, he only missed her company. Even if it meant standing in the line of fire, he would happily take any hit if it would just get her to look at him. 

"Food smells good," he complimented the moment he entered the home they just finished moving into not too long ago. It'd been a big step for them, considering he never thought she'd agree to move with him in the first place. He fucked up. A lot. More often than he should. She didn't know it had nothing to do with his love for her, but his own self-loathing instead. So they fought. Frequently. Now more than ever before. Mostly because of him. Always because of him. 

She didn't reply. And he didn't expect her to. He simply watched her place the containers of Chinese food onto the island, which stood in the middle of their modern kitchen and hung his head in shame. 

He knew she couldn't stay mad at him for long, but he didn't tempt her rage. They sat together at the dinner table, on opposite sides. Her decision of course. She always said she didn't trust his sneaky hands. With good reason. He would've definitely placed it on her thigh, and raised it higher and higher until she gave in to him, until he could get at least a smile from her lips as he made her squirm in her seat. 

He was tired of giving her the space she needed to work through her anger. She was supposed to talk things out with him, they were a team after all. He had to admit, he hadn't exactly been acting like the best partner in crime. He shut her out, accidentally on purpose. It was an oxymoron he perfected throughout the years, and he thought she had accepted it. Clearly she hadn't. Otherwise they would've been kissing each other senseless by now.  

"I can hand you the knife. So you can stab away at me and feel better," he offered, to appease her fury and his words had finally caused a small reaction out of her. Just not the one he wanted. Her eyes watered, not out of sadness, out of the boiling anger weighing heavy on her chest, making her hands shake as she glared at him. She wanted this to work so badly, it was tearing her up inside as the fear that it might not began to claw at her. 

He knew what it was like being disappointed over and over again by people who he thought loved him. He just didn't know why he chose to take it out on her in the most inopportune times, which was probably making her regret ever giving him a chance to begin with. 

"You have no idea what I want to do to you right now," she threatened, practically growling at him as she got up to bring her empty plates into the kitchen. He followed her and placed his own dirty dishes into the sink. They had a dish washer, one he worked hard to find for her since she was picky with just about everything, and yet here she was, washing them with her own hands, out of spite.

"So tell me. I know you want to," he begged, hoping it would allow him to gain entrance back into her good graces. Even though he thought her angry pout adorable, he hated when she was this upset with him. He wanted her happy. He wanted her smiling. It was the highlight of his day and he'd do anything to get it back. 

"Please go away," she ordered, barely looking at him as she scrubbed the dishes harder than she needed to. Knowing her, she was probably picturing his face as the plate she was scrubbing at the moment. The harder she pushed that sponge onto that plate, the more the artificial coloring faded. 

"I'm sorry, okay?" he repeated for the millionth time that week, and this time, his words had caused her to laugh. Not the joyful kind, but the kind that assured him he wasn't getting out of the dog house any time soon. 

"No, you're not," she said as she turned off the water in the sink and dried her hands with a small dish towel. 

"Yes, I am. I'm an asshole. And I'm sorry and I love you," he confessed, as he grabbed onto her waist before she ran from him again. She tried to push away from him, and she succeeded of course. She'd always been stronger than him, physically and mentally. And he found it incredibly sexy and now he was hard thinking about just how many times she outwitted him throughout their relationship. Her red lips weren't the only thing that caught his attention the first time they met. 

She'd been kind to him, made him laugh when his entire world seemed to come crashing down on top of him on a daily basis. When he was released from jail, he had no one. Not even a place to call home. And that all changed the moment he walked into that coffee shop and saw the beautiful woman staring down at her phone, trying to distract herself from the misery she tried to hide behind her quiet smile. He needed to find out if her pain matched his own, and after a few dates, he knew he needed to spend the rest of his life trying to change that quiet smile of misery into one full of laughter and love. 

Right now, he'd give anything to go back to a time where she didn't hate him for disappointing her so often. 

"I don't want this anymore," she admitted, causing his heart to drop into the pit of his full stomach. She looked at him then, letting him know she wasn't joking around. He hurt her. Badly. And he understood he should be punished for it. But a lifetime without her? He just couldn't bare it. 

So he decided to stop saying sorry and figured it was better to show her just how sorry he was instead. 


***


They'd taken separate showers later that night, and he'd been instructed to sleep on the couch for the sixth night in a row. She expected him to have been gone by the time she emerged from their master suite bathroom, but he chose not to honor her request. He laid there, with nothing but a bed sheet covering him from the waist down, and smirked as he watched her cheeks turn red. 

He waited five years to take the last of her innocence, and he wasn't about to let some other guy have it because he was an idiot, who didn't know how good he actually had it. Not when there was still a chance he could fix this, fix them. Just the thought of some other man touching her like he'd been waiting to touch her all this time made him angry. She was his. She'd been swearing it for years. She couldn't have forgotten that over such a short period of time. Could she?

"You're supposed to be in the living room," she stated as she pulled a pair of her favorite pajamas from her dresser and he took the opportunity to get up from their bed to approach her. She stilled when he stood behind her, his hands steady at her hips before he moved to untie her bathrobe. He'd seen her naked before, when they messed around, teasing each other to the point of madness. But he'd never actually been inside of her. No one had taken her virginity before and he knew he wanted to be the first and last man to ever be that intimate with her. 

"I'm supposed to do a lot of things. You, being one of them," he reminded her, as he whispered the words into her ear from behind and let her bathrobe fall at her feet. She swallowed hard as he ran his fingers down her stomach and in between her legs. She was nervous. Her pounding clit and heartbeat was a dead giveaway as well as the wetness his fingers drowned in the moment he slipped them inside of her. The first sigh he heard escape her mouth made him bite hard onto her shoulder. She loved it when he bit her. The pain combined with the tenderness his tongue treated the spot with always turned her on. He planned to use it to make her scream very soon. 

She didn't pull away from him this time. She simply moved against his palm as he continued to make her wet enough for him to enter her. It was going to hurt, but if anyone could handle pain like a pro, it was her. She was resilient that way and he loved her all the more for it.

Her dark and damp curls rested against his chest as he pressed and rubbed at her clit, making her sigh for him once again. He kissed her shoulder, then her neck and gave her another bite. She gasped loudly and the flood of juices that drowned his fingers let him know she was ready for him. 

They talked about him going in raw before. They were practically married already, despite not having the paperwork done and he couldn't have kids, so that took care of the birth control issue. It would be the perfect experience for both of them and he could no longer wait to show her just how much he needed her by his side. 

He started off gentle. From the moment he placed her on the bed, to the kiss that followed, to his cock as he pried open her legs and started to push his tip through her tight opening. She jumped slightly, out of discomfort as her walls adjusted to his size, but it quickly subsided the moment she wrapped her arms around his neck and he pushed himself into her further. Both of their moans came simultaneously, his head buried against her neck as her lips brushed against his shoulder. 

He moved slowly in and out of her, trying to keep what was left of his own self-control before he came prematurely. To his surprise, she moved right along with him. Together, they explored each other's bodies while their points of arousal continued to connect and spread stimulation throughout every nerve ending, increasing every one of their senses ten times greater. 

Her nails were sharp against the skin of his back, urging him to go faster and once he obliged, he knew it wouldn't take long before they both climaxed together. She wasn't the patient kind. And neither was he. It wasn't a pleasant trait, but in this case, he silently thanked her for it. He felt himself swell twice his normal size and pulled out of her immediately, taking the opportunity to ravish her breasts. They fit perfect in his hands and in his mouth. Her nipples were small but he always managed to perk them up with his tongue. He sucked and tugged them into his mouth hard, giving her that pleasurable pain she seemed to enjoy so much. 

As soon as he felt her fingers weave into his hair and tug hard, his teeth couldn't help but bite down harder against the sensitive flesh of her breasts. She moaned loudly, just like he wanted her to and smiled against her neck as he took his hard cock and slowly plunged into her once again. Their hips and skin crashed violently as he pounded into her, burying himself as deep as he could until he reached her core. He took her hands then, placing them swiftly above her head as he drilled her with his impatient prick and held her gaze as she panted heavily. Her dark eyes pinned his as her inner walls contracted around him, milking him until he could no longer hold himself back. 

The sound of his name being shouted into the humid room caused him to fuck her harder, filling her with his hot liquid as her juices flowed and mixed with his. He kept pumping into her as he placed soft kisses all over her pretty face, until he had no energy left in him and he collapsed beside her on their bed. 

"I still don't forgive you," she said, breathing heavily, wearing the smile he worked so hard to gain all week. He knew then, he needed to stop being an asshole and grow up. If he planned on marrying this woman one day, she’d have to give him a reason to say yes first.

"And I can't live without you, so I guess we have a problem," he teased as he placed another kiss on her full and swollen lips. His cock jump started quicker than it usually did, but he needed to give her more time to recover. He planned on disabling her enough so she'd be stuck in bed all night with him and all of tomorrow and the rest of forever. Now that he finally got the chance to feel that electrical bond, that smoldering chemistry he spent his entire life hearing about from his friends and family members, he didn't plan on letting it go. 

"I guess we do," she responded with a smirk as she began to stroke him, bringing not only his shaft back to life, but his hope that they would be all right, as well.