I slide through the water towards him, feeling like some beautiful ancient goddess, like we’re a million miles away from anything else that matters, detached from it all. It’s exactly what I wanted to feel. I let myself forget that we’re playing a game, that Connor is just going along with my request, that his affection and the difference in his behavior are just a product of that. I let myself see him not as a conquest, a duty, anobligation, but just as my handsome, strong, brave husband, a man I actually desire and, in many ways, respect.
A man I could love, if only we could both find some way to stop letting our pride and fear get in the way.
I skim my hands up his thighs, feeling the damp coarse hair under my hands, my lips an inch from his bobbing cock. The water swirls around us, steam wreathing us both, my hair dragging through it and clinging damply to my back. Connor is watching me with a lazy, unhurried heat in his eyes, and my heart skips a beat in my chest.
I think he’s actually enjoying this.He’s good at hiding his emotions and feelings from me, good at faking it. It comes from a lifetime of playing politics, of being forced to do exactly that for his own survival and that of his family. I’m good at it, too—just not with him. With him, it’s as if I can’t pretend at anything anymore.
But I don’t think he’s faking it right now. I think he’s letting himself enjoy this, too. At least, that’s what I want to believe.
I know he’s expecting me to reach for his cock, but instead, I slide my hand beneath, cupping his balls. They’re soft and loose in my palm, relaxed from the heat, and Connor’s eyes widen for a second, his mouth opening as if to protest, until he realizes I’m being gentle. I really just want to explore my husband, to take my time, and whatever he was going to say dies on his lips as his expression changes to one of pleasure.
As I gently play with his balls, rolling and cupping them in my palm, teasing the sensitive skin with the tips of my fingers, I lean forward and flick my tongue over the head of his cock. It’s swollen and stiff, pre-cum pearling at the tip and starting to slide down the shaft, and I lap up the droplet of it, watching Connor shudder from the slight touch. It’s as if everything is magnified, with no hurry, nothing else to worry about. Only us, in this beautiful, romantic place.
I’d thought he would fight it, but he’s doing the exact opposite, and I want to enjoy every second.
Connor endures my teasing for longer than I expected he would—the soft flicks of my tongue, licking up each bit of pre-cum as it leaks from his straining cockhead, sucking at the soft flesh beneath it. “For fuck’s sake, Saoirse,” he finally growls through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched and his cock harder than I’ve ever seen it. “Suck the damned thing, or I’m going to grab you and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”
A jolt of pure arousal shoots through me at that, and I’m tempted to keep teasing him until he makes good on the threat—but I’m enjoying him letting me do what I want too much. It’s the first demand he’s made since we slipped into the onsen—since the plane, actually, and I give him what he wants, sliding my lips over the pulsing head of his cock and taking him in my mouth.
“Oh—oh fuckinghell, that’s so fucking good—” Connor’s groan of pleasure sounds almost painful, his hand tangling in my wet hair as I slide my mouth shallowly on his cock, taking what’s still above the water between my lips, my hand still busy playing with and teasing his balls below. “Fuck, I need more,” he pants, pushing himself onto the ledge beneath the water so that more of his cock is exposed. “Keep sucking just like that,fuck—oh god, Saoirse—”
It’s as if once he lets go, he can’t stop. He groans, my name spilling from his lips over and over as I do everything in my power to give him the best blowjob of his entire life. I’ve learned what he likes, how he loves when I focus on the head for a little while, only to slide down and deep-throat all of him, choking on his cock for as long as I can, meeting his eyes while I do. His face is taut with pleasure, my tongue coated with a steady stream of pre-cum as I feel his balls tighten in my hand, and he throws his head back, his hand tightening in my hair to the point of pain.
“Oh god, Saoirse, I’m going to come—fuck, I want to shoot down your fucking throat,oh fuck—”
I feel him swell and throb, and I force my mouth down onto him, taking as much as I can as I lightly squeeze his balls. He lets out a near animalistic groan, cursing aloud. I feel a hot, thick spurt of his cum as he loses control, the water splashing around us as Connor comes hard.
I wrap my other hand around the bit of his shaft that I wasn’t able to take, giving him everything I can all at once—sucking, stroking, playing as he pours cum into my mouth, my throat jerking convulsively as I try to swallow it all. I don’t think he’s ever come this much or this hard, and I feel an odd sense of pride as he moans my name, shuddering with pleasure as his cock throbs in my mouth.
“Fuck—I can’t take anymore—” He pulls me off of him, his eyes glazed with pleasure. We both sink back into the water, his cock softening as he draws me towards him, and I rest one hand on his chest as I look up at my husband’s handsome face.
“Sometimes, I can’t believe that I’m the first cock you ever sucked,” Connor says hoarsely. “You give the best fucking blowjobs I’ve ever had.”
A warm glow of pleasure spreads through me at that, and I search his face for some kind of sarcasm or mockery, but for once, I don’t see it. “Really?” I ask softly, and he laughs. “Because you’re definitely the only—"
“Yes, really,” Connor tells me, tipping my chin up with one finger so he can lightly kiss my lips. “You seem to actually enjoy it.” His voice softens, taking on a tone that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard before. “You like pleasing me, don’t you, Saoirse? Sexually, I mean. You get off on it.”
I can feel my cheeks pinken for reasons that have nothing to do with the heat of the onsen, but I give him a small nod. I’m tempted to lie, to say something snappy, but I remind myself that I brought us here to try doing things differently.
“Yes,” I whisper softly. “I like seeing that I’m pleasing you. I like turning you on. I like seeing thatIturn you on.”
Connor hesitates, and I look up at him. “What?” I whisper. “Can’t you be honest with me, just here? We can go home and go back to the way things were if that’s what you want. I’ll do my best to forget all of it, I swear. But here, just for now, can’t you tell me the truth, without all the games and lies and walls and defense mechanisms?”
Connor’s hand idly strokes through my hair as he looks down at me. “We’re very well suited to each other,” he says quietly. “It’s a shame that we didn’t meet under other circumstances, as other people.”
I look at him, confused. “What does that mean?” I want, more than anything, for him to tell me what he’s feeling. But his hand is sliding up my thigh, his fingers brushing against my soft folds, parting them so he can slip two fingers into me. “Connor—”
“Shh,” he breathes, his hand tangling in my hair to bring my mouth to his. “Just enjoy it, Saoirse. This is what you wanted.”
Itiswhat I wanted. I wanted romance and pleasure, for us to enjoy each other without the constant focus on trying to make our sex life about nothing other than clinical baby-making. This is all of that. It couldn’t be a more romantic setting; the two of us are enjoying each other without a hurry or agenda. His fingers sliding into me instantly send that sweet ache of pleasure through me, the promise of more.
He thrusts deeper, his thumb finding my clit, stroking it in time with the hot, slow slide of his tongue into my mouth. “I wonder how many times I can make you come this weekend,” he groans, his fingers curling to find that shallow, sweet spot inside of me that makes me feel as if every nerve is electrified. “I’m already up to four.”
“Four?” I pull away, narrowing my eyes at him. “You only made me come once here so far and twice on the plane—oh!” I gasp as his thumb presses harder on my clit, his eyes twinkling as they meet mine.
“Three times on the plane,” Connor corrects.
“Imademyselfcome the first time,” I argue, feeling myself clench and flood with arousal at the memory of spreading myself open for Connor to watch as he used my panties to jerk off.