DON’T TOUCH HER! SHE’S MY WIFE

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The clock continued to tick. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. And yet Lena’s husband was not home.

Three years.

That was how long Lena had been married.

Three years of convenience. Three years of an arrangement that had never pretended to be more than what it was. And yet, sitting alone at the dining table, Lena found herself wondering when exactly things had started to feel different. When hope had begun to quietly and dangerously creep in where none had been invited.

Maybe it was just her.

Maybe she had imagined it all.

Maybe she allowed her heart to deviate from the boundaries, expectations and rules herself and Julian agreed on when they decided to go into a marriage.

The clock on the wall ticked again.

Lena glanced at the clock, then stared at the dinner she had spent the entire afternoon preparing. Not that she had expected much. If anything, she would have been more surprised if he had arrived on time. Punctuality had never been Julian’s strong suit, especially when it came to things that concerned this marriage.

Finally, the door opened and the sound of it pulled Lena from her thoughts.

Julian was home.

Her heart skipped, betraying her in the same way it always did whenever Julian returned. It was an instinct she had tried, and failed, to unlearn over the years. No matter how much she reminded herself of what this marriage was, her body never seemed to listen.

She stood, smoothing the fabric of her dress with her palms that had gone damp with nerves.

“Lena?” Julian’s voice echoed through the hallway, slurred enough to tell her he’d been drinking.

The last thread of hope she’d been clinging to snapped quietly.

“In the dining room!” she called.

Julian appeared moments later, leaning heavily against the doorframe. His tie hung loose around his neck, his shirt wrinkled and untucked. The sharp smell of whiskey clung to him. His eyes were distant, unfocused.

“Happy anniversary,” Julian said, flashing a crooked grin that felt more careless than celebratory.

“Happy anniversary,” Lena replied, forcing a smile. The words sounded hollow to her own ears.

“I bought you a gift,” he muttered.

“Wow… that is…” Lena exhaled, “thank you…”

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” Julian said.

Lena chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be an interesting gift.”

She knew Julian did not know how to give a gift.

He knew how to spend money alright, but he never once cared about buying what Lena truly needed.

Lena was fairly certain he had once again purchased a car.

Julian’s gaze drifted to the table, taking in the carefully arranged dishes, the candles, the effort she had poured into tonight. For a brief moment, just a heartbeat, she thought he might apologize. 

She thought he might acknowledge her. 

She wondered if he might finally see her.

“You cooked?” He raised brow.

Lena swayed forward then backwards. “You promised to take me out for dinner. I called multiple times but you did not answer… so I thought it best to cook…”

“You thought we were going out to dinner?” 

“I didn’t think, Julian. You told me yourself that you’d make reservations,” she answered.

“I wanted to… but you never like to go out with me and I thought… I thought…”

“It’s fine… you don’t have to explain,” Lena said with a soft smile.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Julian murmured, his unsteady steps bringing him closer. His hand brushed her arm, lingered, then slid to the small of her back, pulling her toward him. “But on the bright side, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

Lena’s throat quivered on a swallow of nothing. “Do I?”

“You do,” he whispered. He leaned down and his lips found hers. His hand crept up her face, cradling it as he kissed her slowly and tenderly.

Lena kissed him back.

She moaned into his mouth. He swallowed it, savored the taste of her lips like a man who has all the time in the world.

After a moment, Julian pulled back. His eyes had darkened, locked intensely on hers. His thumb traced along her cheekbone in a slow, absent stroke.

Lena held very still, afraid that if she moved or spoke or breathed too loudly, the moment would collapse.

Then Julian’s hands dropped to her waist and he lifted her in one smooth motion, and her legs wrapped around him instinctively, her arms finding his shoulders.

“Julian—”

“What,” he murmured against her mouth.

“What about dinner?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. 

He shook his head. “Dinner can wait. I’m sure you’re not that hungry…”

Lena did not speak any further as he carried her upstairs.

This was how it had always been between them. Words were scarce. Gestures were straightforward. Desire was uncomplicated. 

Before they reached their room, their breathing was echoing harshly across the space, their clothes half discarded. 

Lena hoped for fast and wild as they’d always done.

But Julian, for some reason, was tender.

His breath was warm against her skin. He glided his tongue across the valley of her neck to her mouth and their lips fused once again.

Lena moaned desperately.

Julian groaned.

Lena pulled back, holding Julian’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he murmured.

“You’re different tonight,” she pointed out.

“How different?” Julian asked in genuine confusion.

“You’re gentle. You’re not always gentle, Julian…”

“It’s our anniversary…” he muttered. Before Lena could respond, Julian placed his thumb to her clit and pushed a finger into her.

“Julian,” she gasped.

“What were you saying…” he taunted as he pushed another finger in and rubbed his thumb in slow circular motion over her clit.

Lena’s back arched, she moaned his name over and over, louder every time.

“You’re loud,” he mocked, gliding his tongue over her nipple. “You’re never loud.”

“Julian… Julian…” Lena moaned even louder.

He paused his movement. “What do you want… tell me what you want…”

“I need you… I need to come…” Lena pleaded.

“Not yet,” Julian whispered as he pulled his fingers out of her. 

“Julian,” Lena whined.

“Not yet…” he repeated, trailing the wet fingers up her stomach to her mouth. “Open that mouth for me, Lena.”

She did as she was told.

“Good…” Julian pushed the fingers into her mouth, all the way down to her throat. “If you will come tonight, it will be on my cock.”

Those were the last words he said before Lena saw stars.

He slammed into her with one single motion.

He moved his waist and fingers at the same time, fucking both Lena’s mouth and pussy at the same time.

Lena arched her back, cried out as loud as she could, but still loved her waist to match his pace.

Julian was inspired by her response. He fucked her dirty and yet there was a hint of tenderness.

“Lena…” he whispered.

Lena opened her eyes. And Julian was looking at her, directly at her, with an intensity that she hadn’t seen from him in longer than she could remember. 

For one breathless moment Lena felt completely seen, like every wall between them had dissolved and there was nothing left but this, them, the truth of three years compressed into a single look.

Her heart cracked open quietly.

“You’re so beautiful tonight,” Julian whispered.

“Julian… please don’t…” Lena shook her head.

“What?”

“Don’t give me hope… don’t do this to me anymore, Julian,” Lena pleaded.

“Lena…”

“No more drunken promises, Julian. Just fuck me…”

Julian inhaled and exhaled a long breath. “I’m sorry…” he murmured, shut his eyes and gave Lena his all.

They gave to one another until there was nothing more to give.