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Read about the author Elly Jones

Early mornings have never been my thing. I have always been a night owl, but having children really does force you to become acquaintances with spitefully early sunrises. Still, there are many ways that I like to be woken up. The smell of fresh coffee, soft sunlight peeking through our blinds, the sound of the kids playing harmoniously downstairs, and Mr. Divine’s tongue making its way down my body.

After sending him my saucy snap, Mr. Divine’s work trip had been extended by another three days and, despite my usual understanding, I was more than a little disappointed. I was craving him more than ever, spending the evenings flitting between flirting with Sophia on WhatsApp and daydreaming about Mr. Divine’s hands gripping my thighs.

Those three extra days dragged on tortuously, and I pined for him like a teenager. The children kept me suitably distracted during the days, but once they had gone to bed my mind and hands started to wander, and my thoughts obsessed over the details of his body. How he flexes his fingers across the steering wheel of his car, the way he runs his hands through his hair and across his chin when he’s thinking too hard, how his thighs twitch in anticipation when I walk across the bedroom towards him. Everything about him leaves me weak at the knees.

I had every intention of staying up for his early morning return, meeting him at the door with just a drink and a smile, but the day had completely wiped me out. The kids were missing their dad and were in terrible teenage moods, my dear Mum stopped in for one of her ‘quick’ cups of tea that turn into hours of retelling me the same old stories and I had spent the night before staying up far too late, texting Sophia and giggling like a schoolgirl.

Usually, when Mr. Divine arrives home so late, he’ll hop straight into the spare room to catch up on some uninterrupted sleep, and so before collapsing into our own bed, I prepped the room with fresh linens and some of his favourite post-flight comforts. Then as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out for the count. For a few hours at least.

One minute I’m fast asleep, and the next I’m instinctively grinding my hips against Mr. Divine’s hard cock. His smooth voice in my ear sent ripples down my spine, hearing his need for me, the way he couldn’t wait to taste me. I leant back into his wide frame, my eyes still closed, and my lips parted, and felt his hands roam my body, pulling my pyjama shorts down and grabbing at whatever flesh he could get his hands on. My whole body was on fire, the feeling of lips against my neck, his rough breath in my ear and his hands caressing my breasts, gently tweaking my nipples; it was incredible. I wanted my husband, I needed him inside me and in that moment; I couldn’t believe he was mine.

With his cock throbbing against my backside, a soft moan escaped my lips and I reached back to feel the length of him. He growled in my ear, and I moaned even louder. His hand withdrew from my breasts and clapped around my mouth as I couldn’t help but whine in need. He slipped two fingers into my mouth as I continued to stroke his cock, feeling him get harder and harder in my hands. He rolled me onto my back and kissed me, sliding his tongue against mine and reaching his hand down towards my pussy, biting my lip in excitement when he realised just how wet I was for him. With his tongue then travelling down my body, I opened my eyes for the first time and watched him taste me, hearing another growl escape his lips as waves of pleasure rippled through me. An orgasm was building quick, and my hands clutched at his hair while his tongue circled my clitoris, two of his fingers inside me, curled and coaxing me to finish for him.

Before I could even catch my breath, the orgasm still ripping through me, he was inside me. I was completely full of him, greedily taking every inch and clawing at his back while he moved inside me, just the way he knows I like it. I wrapped my legs around his waist, lifting my hips and moving with him in tandem. He took my face in his hands, slipping his thumb into my mouth, and told me that I was his and only his. I moaned in agreement, and he pushed inside me deeper as he finished between my legs, gripping my thighs as he did. He lay his head against my chest, our exhausted limbs still tangled, basking in that post-sex glow; enjoying each other as husband and wife. My man and me.

After our giggles and clean up, we laid satisfied in bed together, my head upon his chest and my body tucked up under his arm. His eyes were closed, and his voice was sleepy, I inhaled his delicious smell and nuzzled into him. I gave him a cheeky “you’re welcome” for my saucy snap, and a chuckle rumbled from his throat. He tipped my chin up towards him and thanked me properly.

Thinking nothing of it, I breezily mentioned that Sophia seemed to enjoy it too, draping my leg across him as I did so. I felt his body stiffen beneath me, and I glanced up to sneak a look at him. His eyes were still closed, but his brows were furrowed, and I just knew I’d said the wrong thing. He stroked my hair and finally looked at me, his face softening as I apologised, letting him know that I didn’t think he would have minded, that I was just having a little fun.
He did mind though, and I was genuinely surprised, a little knot of guilt beginning to sit in my stomach.

“When you do something for me, I like that it’s just for me. I never expected you to send it on to anyone else, even Sophia. I don’t think I had really imagined you would want to take anything with her further” he mumbled into the darkness.

I felt awful, but there was something else there, something defensive, irritated even. I stroked his chest and reassured him it was just for fun, something silly while she and I had been chatting. My stomach dropped when he said it; “I think we should slow things right down with Sophia. Take a break, maybe”.

I instinctively agreed, and he gently kissed my forehead, then before I knew it, his snores filled the silence with the dark room. I wriggled out from under his arm and scootched along to my side of the bed, turning to face him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Of course, we could take a break, if that’s what he wanted, if that’s what he needed. We’re a team, and we come first, of course.

Still, I couldn’t shake this feeling of unease, and it bothered me. I felt ridiculous, but I almost wanted to pout, to cross my arms and huff. I really was throwing my own little strop in the darkness. I tried to shake the thought from my mind and settled down to sleep. Taking a break didn’t mean I had to stop talking to Sophia. We could be just friends, couldn’t we?