When Mike positions himself between my legs and begins to pleasure me, it feels so good. But I am still fighting to keep my eyes open. This is not my best moment. I don’t want to fall asleep in the middle of my new husband performing oral on me for the first time. That would be a horrible start to our marital relations—and bad for his self-esteem.
“Mike,” I say softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really sleepy. I’m so sorry, I guess I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“That’s okay,” he tells me. “Do you mind if I keep going? Or do you want me to stop?”
I hesitate. “You can keep going—it feels lovely. But I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep.”
“I don’t mind,” he answers. “I like the idea of licking you to sleep.”
“Oh,” I respond with surprise. When he says it like that, it sounds strangely hot and relaxing. So I let my head rest back against the pillow and just enjoy his touch.
I am not sure when I drift off, but I am surprised when I wake up to find Mike on top of me, kissing my neck.
“Camilla,” he says softly. “Is this okay?”
“Mmmm,” I respond sleepily in confusion. Crap. It’s our wedding night! I feel really guilty for passing out while he’s trying to be sexual with me. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m so drowsy. I’m not sure why. Maybe the wine. And I’m on antidepressants…”
“It’s okay,” he answers. “Don’t stress out—just let me take care of you. Relax and enjoy yourself.”
I try to do as he asks, and fight against the waves of sleepiness.
An image of Gabe suddenly enters my mind and I imagine that he’s on top of me instead. I feel so disoriented and confused. I almost say his name—but I just barely hold back. Gabe… I only say his name in my mind, but I don’t let it leave my tongue. His name fills up my head, like an echo bouncing off the insides of my skull.
“You don’t have to do anything at all,” Mike says. “Just let me pleasure you.”
It strikes me as strange, but I am too tired to really do anything. So, it’s actually quite convenient. I guess I should never complain that a man is doing all the work and letting me relax. Especially because in the hospital, the nurses have to do all the heavy lifting and dirty work, while the doctors have things a little easier. Mike doing all the work is a bit of role reversal in our relationship.
I think this marriage is going to work out just wonderfully.
Chapter 25
When I wake up, I feel a bit cloudy. I’m not sure where I am.
Then I remember. But I don’t really know what happened last night. I don’t even remember if we had sex or not. Crap. It was definitely an awkward first night, and I’ll have to do something to make it up to Mike very soon. I actually want this marriage to work, and I want to be a good wife, not a useless, boring zombie.
I force myself to sit up in bed, and I find that my head is pounding. I press a few fingers against my temple to calm the ache. I am startled to find that Mike is not beside me in the bed. He’s awake already?
I look around for my phone to text him, and I see it lying on a piece of furniture. I toss the covers aside and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
“Oh no, don’t get up!” Mike says as he enters the room, carrying a tray. “I brought you breakfast in bed.”
“Whoa,” I say with surprise, seeing the lovely tray of pancakes, coffee, and mimosas. Even a flower sitting in a little glass. “Mike, that is so sweet. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course, I did, baby. That was the best night ever,” Mike is saying, as he deposits the tray in the bed and moves over to kiss my forehead.
I chuckle nervously. “Really? It was?”
“Yes,” he says, kissing my nose, and lips. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known,” I say as I stare at the breakfast spread with wonder. “This is seriously amazing, Mike. I’m a really lucky woman.”
“I’m a really lucky man,” he responds with a grin, joining me in bed and picking up a pancake. “I just want to eat with you, drink with you, and make love to you all day.”
“That sounds like paradise.” Reaching out to pick up the mimosa, I take a sip. It tastes like happiness. I’m not joking. The beauty of the gorgeous master bedroom, with sunlight streaming in through translucent drapes—and the effort Mike put into preparing this lovely meal. It’s actually affecting me deeply, and making me emotional. I feel a few tears touch my eyes. “This is like… my perfect Sunday brunch. I don’t think I can ever remember having a nicer Sunday morning… ever. I need to grab my phone so I can take a photo for Instagram.”
“Don’t worry about that, honey. We can do this every Sunday morning for the rest of our lives,” he tells me. “Maybe with some cute kids to join us in the future? What do you say?”
A tear actually slides out of my eye then. I remember what Gabe and I joked about naming our firstborn daughter. Sunday. I’m so happy and sad at the same time—it’s bittersweet. I sigh deeply, putting down the mimosa to drink some of the coffee. Which is wonderful, as always. “That sounds like perfection, Mike.”
“Then we’d better get started on making those babies,” he says with a wink.
Oh. I guess that means we didn’t have sex. I’ll definitely have to make it up to him today. “You
