Chapter Text
Sleeping in your husband's arms had to be your favorite part of the day.
After tending to the fields, knowing you could crawl into his comforting embrace gave you the strength you needed to face the next day.
Even on warm summer nights, you needed his touch to feel grounded, to feel whole. The gentle caress of his broad palm sweeping up and down your side lulled you to sleep in minutes—no medicines required.
But sometimes, that consoling hand became mischievous. Instead of politely coddling you and holding you to his chest, his fingers travel upward, leaving trails of intrigue across your supple skin.
Tonight, well rather, a bit before dawn, you feel his antsy fingers creep up your side. His hand comes to cup a breast before focusing on teasing a nipple. Even in your barely awake state, the sinful touch causes a jolt of pleasure to course through you. He pinches the tender bud, encouraging it to stiffen and become more sensitive.
This was perhaps your favorite way to awaken. As you begin to feel pleasure more acutely in your taut nipple, Elliott's fingers move to switch to the other, but you stop him. With eyes still closed, you take the hand that had been gently stoking the flames of your arousal and bring it to your lips, parting them to take his fingers into your mouth and slicking them with your tongue.
You hear Elliott's deep breaths intensify as you suck his digits, slowly, lazily, sinfully. Then in another seductive gesture, you guide his hand to your naked chest before bringing his hand under the waistband of your pajama pants to tender cunt.
"An unnecessary precaution, my love. You're more than wet enough," He whispers into your neck, his fingers already getting to work slipping between your slick lips to tease at your opening. You're deliciously wet. As Elliott probes your pussy there isn't an inch that isn't dripping and pulsing with desire. You hook your top leg over him, spreading yourself so he can touch you more deeply and freely.
Elliott's voice is gruff but oh so seductive, his rich baritone teasing you, causing a deluge of arousal to dampen his fingers further.
Your voice hardly works so early, so all you can offer is a please hum when he glides two fingers into you, which pitches up to a desperate whine when he slides in a third. The stretch comes a little too fast, but Elliott knows you like just a dash of pain with your pleasure. And unlike wetting his fingers, this act of plunder was a necessary step. Elliott's girth could be uncomfortable to take without a bit of prep. He was the perfect length, not overly long so that he didn't hit anything too deep and sensitive within you in most positions, but the heft of him could easily be too much at times. Even the act of taking him in your mouth could be tiresome for your poor jaw.
Your eyes are still closed as his fingers pump in and out of you, angling themselves perfectly to stroke that spot in you that causes your hips to jump involuntarily with the press against your narrow interior walls, pushing them apart to make way was a much larger intrusion.
As much as you're able to, you circle your hips in rhythm to the thrust of your husband's hand, ensuring you take his broad digits to the hilt every time and slowly wake your body up, prepping to grind on top of him once you've roused just enough to manage the desperate carnal act.
In the mornings, your lovemaking is instinctual and slow. You two are nothing more than a leisurely rutting tangle of limbs. Even now, you feel Elliott's hardness at your back, pressing against you as he works you to your first orgasm of the morning.
It sneaks up on you like a warm breeze on an early spring night, momentarily paralyzing you as your body spasms but ultimately priming you for the pleasure to come. Elliott's fingers remain steadfast, pressed deep in your heat so you can clench around their fullness. Only when your hips stop shivering and stuttering does he remove them.
You're quick to slide your pajama bottoms off, now completely bare. Blindly, you roll over and climb on top of him. Your movements are lazy but determined. Blearily, you recognize the first rays of the early morning sun breaching the horizon, starting to illuminate your bedroom in cool golden light.
You take him just how you both like. Buried fully within you as your engorged clit finds pleasurable resistance against the smattering of hair across his groin.
Finally, you open your eyes to look at him. You both slept shirtless last night. A more common occurrence for Elliott but a necessary one for you as the late summer heat made snuggling together almost unbearable.
His body is so beautiful. You had no idea when he got the time to become so firm and toned. Even before the farm, his broad chest and shoulders caught your attention. It was only later that you learned of his early morning swims in the ocean and personal history as a freestyle swimmer on his college swim team.
Your hands found purchase on his chest, your fingers intentionally grazing over his tanned nipples as you buck against him, circling your hips.
Elliott's hand comes to your throat, and his dominant thumb pushes between your lips. You close your eyes once more, perhaps out of fatigue but also out of the knowledge that is you focused on Elliott's predatory stare as he watches you suck his thumb, you'd come again far too soon for your liking, but then he starts moaning. Without any inhibition, he begins to let out these heady, low groans that drive you insane as you start to speed up, desperate to hear more.
You fumble at your pace.
"Open your eyes, love." He pleads, "I need to see you as you come on my cock." He grunts as he moves his feet flat on the bed, adjusting the angle of his hips to rock with your lazy grinding.
"Elliott, please," you mumble, slightly exasperated, as you try to speak over the thumb in your mouth.
No, open them." His hand moves more firmly to your throat, squeezing just a bit, never to cause harm but certainly to encourage your compliance.
You love how forceful he gets in his neediness. Elliott doesn't practice dominance for the same reason as other men. He doesn't desire control for the sake of it. Elliott just wants all of you, as much as you can give, and he won't settle for less.
He's like a petulant cat who, while taking the treat you happily offer in one hand, grows impatient and bitter with the knowledge that you're withholding more delights in the other.
When it comes to you, Elliott doesn't deal in parts, only in wholes.
However, once he's appeased, he's quick to relent, fall back into submission, and allow you to take the lead with minimal intervention.
Your man is so silly. So desperate for you. Only Elliott would rouse you from the dregs of slumber and then get testy when you're too tired to keep your eyes open as you ride him.
He shifts, rising to a seat, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing you.
You match his intensity, parting your lips and caressing his tongue with yours. With your eyes closed, every touch becomes heightened. The texture of his warm skin, the softness of his palms bracing you against him as he kisses you over and over and over again. The addictive sensation of your clit brushing against the hard plane of his groin, finding the perfect resistance when you canted your hips just the right w-
Your rhythm breaks as your orgasm comes and takes you by surprise, like a plunging drop on a raging river. The pleasurable coiling in your stomach suddenly breaks without warning. You wraith against your husband, your hands tightening in his hair as you press yourself down and against him, feeling to the hilt as your cunt shudders and spasms against this girth.
He strokes your back like one would a lazy cat, coaxing you through your orgasm with gentle kisses to your neck and a comforting hand stroking against your back.
Rolling you over so your back hits cotton sheets, Elliott thrusts to the pace he prefers, nothing too rough but almost painfully deep. The head of his cock strikes something that whose tenderness would usually be painful if you hadn't been primed by two prior orgasms.
His lips never leave yours as he cants his hips on top of you. A hand cradles your neck while the other interweaves your fingers on the cushy goose down of your pillow.
Your drowsiness has returned. With your eyes closed, all you feel is the plushness of Elliott's lips against yours, the glide of his cock, and the precious blanket of his weight pressing you into the mattress. If it weren't for his low moans, you'd hardly be able to register his seed filling you, just a distant splash of heat coating your slowly spasming walls.
Your husband moves to roll off of you, but you grasp at his shoulders, begging, "Stay inside, please ."
"But we should get up—the farm-" Elliott whispers, not wanting to disturb the quietness of such a peaceful morning.
"You'll help me, won't you?" Your voice is nothing more than a low mumble of airy breaths.
"Always." He replies, rolling onto his side but still remaining within you as his cock slowly softens.
"Then let's just rest for one more hour." You hook a smoke leg over his hips and nuzzle closer.
You feel the curve of Elliott's grin as he presses a kiss against your cheek, your bodies still interlocked.
"If you insist, darling."
And you did.