“Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want this.”
“Don’t hurt me,” I say, at the same time squirming as though my body knows what it wants, my head’s just not quite caught up.
“Look at me, Mariana. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you. Something you don’t know about me—I don’t fuck when it doesn’t mean anything. And here, now, loving you means the world to me. I love you. Hear me? I love you. I’m serious about us. I want the whole thing. You’re my wife.” He pauses for a moment.
I don’t know what to say, scared about the unknown, and that he could easily overpower me, do what he wants.
“Tell me to stop. Tell me what you want, Mariana.” As he talks, I can feel his cock pressing against me, and my body automatically tries to bear down.
As though the floodgates have opened, emotions wash through my head, from my brain to my hands which reach out for him. Allowing,permitting,me to believe this future really could be mine if I’m brave enough to take it. To admit to loving this man as I know I have for so long. An unlikely relationship, two lost souls. Mine called to his as his to mine.
“I want you. I want this. I, I love you, Tse.”
His eyes close and open, the creases disappear from his brow. His gaze now fixed on mine, he presses the head in and retreats, “You want this, eh? You want my cock?”
He’s teasing me. I can feel my vagina muscles clenching, as if they’re trying to guide him in. “I want you,” I repeat breathlessly.
“You want my cock?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“You want this?” He teases again, the pressure that’s there and then not.
“I want your cock!” I scream.
It’s the incentive he wants. This time he doesn’t torment, just proceeds to make ground. I’m being stretched in ways I never have before. It stings, burns, but when I look at the man above me with such an intense look on his face, his teeth gritted as though he’s holding himself back, I try to relax and allow him in.
He advances, retreats, gradually conquering me, I swear I can feel that piercing over the spot he’d found with his fingers, the one that had sent me off like a rocket launched into space. One final push, then he stops moving.
“You’ve taken all of me.” He looks pleased, proud, and tense all at the same time. “You okay?”
I’m full of my man. Shyly I nod.
He leans forward, giving me a gentle kiss. “Gonna make love to you now.”
I know he’s holding himself back, trying to make my first time good. As my discomfort fades, I find I want more. Automatically lifting my good leg and putting it around him, gasping as it allows him to go deeper. What experience have I of cocks? None at all. But I suspect that piercing, as he suggested, is adding to my pleasure.Surely it can’t always be this good?
I thought he’d shown me what orgasms could be like.I’d been wrong.As I writhe with frustration, wanting a little more stimulation, he intuitively knows, reaching his hand down between us and pinching my clit.
I see stars, planets. The whole heavens in a burst of blinding light. Only just aware of his roar, his short pumps, as he empties himself into the condom.
I swear I lose consciousness for a moment. When I come back to myself, my body’s throbbing in all sorts of delicious ways I’ve never experienced. I’m tingling, I feel weak, and my lungs are heaving as though I’ve just run a race. As his softening cock slips out of me, he holds the condom in place, then ties and discards it in a trash can by the side of the bed.
When he gets up and leaves me, I feel empty, wondering what I do now. But he’s quickly back by my side carrying a damp cloth. I go to move, but he fixes me with his eyes, and gently wipes the evidence of our lovemaking away. Then he’s back, lying next to me, and I’m in his arms, enclosed in a blanket of security and love. I’ve a feeling that I’ve come home, and that this is where I’m meant to be. There and then I decide I never want to be anywhere else.
“I’m married,” I say, my voice full of wonder. After the courthouse, I’d felt trapped, now I feel content, at peace with myself.
“Weare,” he corrects. “We’re in this together, partners now, Mariana. Okay, so we’ve got a lot to find out about each other, but we’ve got a lifetime to learn that shit. What I do know is we were meant to be together. Hey, in time, maybe we’ll throw a kid or two into the mix.” As I freeze, he looks puzzled. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t want kids.”
“Oh? Why not?” He doesn’t sound angry or upset, just interested to hear my reasoning.
I take a second to pull my thoughts together. “Well, first there’s the issue of me having returned to the country illegally. Even if there’s a way around that, and my DACA status is given back to me, I’m still considered illegal. Getting a green card may not be easy. And even that’s just a temporary fix, it doesn’t give me long-term rights. If I get that, we need to be married a couple of years before I can apply for permanent residency. Nothing’s guaranteed, Tse. We’ll have to prove this marriage is genuine and even then they could change the rules.”
“Wouldn’t having a baby prove we’re serious? Shows we’ve consummated the marriage at least.”
I reach for his hand and hold it. “Tse, I can’t even think of it. I’ve already gone through hell thinking I was separated from my brother. What would it be like with a baby? At least Drew was old enough to look after himself if he had to. A baby would be helpless. Then he or she would be looked on as an anchor baby, people would say I purposefully had a child to try to stay here. Just think. What if I was deported? I know I wouldn’t want to be separated from my child. What if you didn’t either? You could fight me for custody, and as the child would be a US citizen, have a good chance of winning. Perhaps that would be the best outcome, being deported is bad enough, but to be in a strange country with the responsibility of a child?” I shudder just thinking about it.
