He’s being utterly silent as I caress him, and I’m used to more reaction from my lovers. I glance up, and his face is tight and hard and impossible to read. “Tell me if I do something that doesn’t feel good to you.”

“Should,” he blurts.

I pause, because no matter how many times I repeat it to myself mentally, it doesn’t make sense. “Should…?”

“Good,” Ranan enunciates, and his mouth pulls down in a frown. He looks furious for a moment, and then slowly admits, “I am silent for long periods of time when I am alone. Sometimes I get nervous about speaking and the wrong thing comes out.”

Oh. I can tell just by the expression on his face how difficult it was for him to admit that to me. There was a girl in our village that had a stutter, and the local boys teased her so much that she just stopped speaking around them. It makes me ache with sympathy and I stroke my fingers over his hard belly. “I understand. I’m just used to hearing something from a lover when I touch them. Would it be better for you if we set up some sort of physical cue? You can tap my arm twice if I do something you don’t like.” I give him a shy little smile. “And maybe touch my ear if I do something you do like. I enjoy knowing if I’m doing things right.”

Ranan reaches out and runs his fingers along the shell of my ear, his gaze flicking to mine.

“Then I’ll keep going?” I ask softly, even as I reach for his cocks again.

His fingers move along my ear, tracing. His response is soft but firm. “Yes.”

Encouraged, I lower my head and take him into my mouth. The first taste of him is salty and musky, and the tip of each cock is bigger against my tongue than anticipated. I make a little noise of surprised pleasure in my throat, because what woman wouldn’t be intrigued by a lover that has a healthy, fat cock? Two cocks initially threw me off. But a large, meaty cock? That excites me.

Two is just, well, double the excitement.

I wrap my fingers around the shaft of his first cock, not entirely surprised to notice that my fingertips don’t touch. “You’re very big,” I comment, even as I lap at the head of him as if he’s a sweet treat. I take his second cock in my other hand and give it gentle, teasing squeezes before I move over to lick the tip of it, too.

His breath huffs out and he touches my earlobe, a silent reassurance that he’s enjoying himself.

I’m enjoying myself, too. Initially I just thought to pleasure him because of the mercenary aspects of it—a happy husband makes a wife’s day easy. And if he’s happy with me, my place at his side is secured. But I’m liking exploring him. I’m liking that he’s big and unusual and yet somewhat shy. I like that he confessed to me about his words. It makes him seem less silent and broody and more quiet and thoughtful. It makes him vulnerable, and it’s that vulnerability that attracts me.

I move back and forth between both of his cocks, giving teasing licks to both heads. “I feel a bit greedy to have so much,” I confess. “I’m not entirely sure how to best handle things. Do I pleasure just one cock at a time, or do I give both small bits of my attention? What do you like better?”

He thinks for a moment and then reaches down. He takes his cock in his hand and then guides it towards my parted lips, the answer obvious.

I take him in my mouth, eager. My hands work his shaft, and his second cock presses against my breasts as I lean over him, and it gives me another idea. As I work his upper cock with one hand, I grip his lower one with my other. I drag the leaking head of him back and forth between the valley of my breasts until they’re lubricated, and then I focus my full attention back on his primary cock, the latter cradled between my breasts. I push my upper arms hard against my sides to make my breasts stay together and hold him tight, and I can tell by the way he sucks in his breath that he likes this idea.

Stroking his free cock, I use my tongue to toy with the underside even as I use my hands to work his length. His fingers touch my ear again, his breath heaving like a bellows, and his excitement makes mine pulse. Heat curls low in my belly and I touch him with greater enthusiasm, my mouth wet and hungry on the head of his cock.

Ranan groans, reaching up to touch my ear again. His hand goes flat and he cups the side of my face instead. I look up at him and our eyes meet just as he comes, flooding my mouth with hot salt. I jerk in response, surprised, and more warmth spreads across my breasts. Oh. So when he comes, he comes in both places. Why do I find that so fascinating? I swallow what I can of his release, still pumping his shaft with my hands to try and squeeze as much pleasure out of this moment for him as I can, and I’m entranced by the sounds he makes. Rough, ragged sounds that tell me more of his loss of control than anything else. I soak in every one of those heated breaths, knowing that I’ve pleased him.

He gently pulls away from me, his eyes hot with silent emotion. We’re sticky with his release, both of us, and I gently trace a finger through the mess he’s left atop my breasts. “My thanks, my husband. I enjoyed that thoroughly.”

Ranan’s eyes immediately narrow as he goes still. “I told you I didn’t like lies.”

I stare at him, open-mouthed. He thinks I’m deceiving him? “Why would I lie right now?”

“Because you’re still trying to please me.” He gestures at me. “You got nothing out of that. It was all for my benefit. I should have pleasured you, too. I didn’t think about it. It was…difficult to think.”

That makes me smile. “That was my intention—to make you feel so good that you couldn’t think. And just because you were the only one that came doesn’t mean I didn’t get pleasure out of it. I liked touching you. I liked knowing that you enjoyed my touch. I liked making you come. If that’s wrong, well then, I guess I’m wrong. Because I got a great deal of pleasure out of that.”

His expression remains skeptical.

With affectionate exasperation, I try a different tactic. “Do you pet a cat expecting it to reciprocate? Or do you pet a cat because the cat likes it and you enjoy making it happy?”

“I have never petted a cat.”

“Well, perhaps you should get one. They’re good at keeping mice and rats away.” I trace circles in his seed, noticing his gaze flicks there, and then lift my messy finger and lick it clean. “I promise you, if I don’t want to touch you, I will let you know. But I wanted to touch you today, and it pleased me to make you come.”

“Not as much as it pleased me,” he grumps, gesturing at my slick breasts. “Obviously.”

I giggle. That might be the first joke he’s ever made. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

He sits up, grimacing, and eyes me. “It is when you are in pain. I should have let you rest.”

In pain? It takes me a moment to realize that he’s talking about my menses. “I’m faring better today, and it’s just my moon flow. I can’t laze about clutching my stomach for a week every month or I’d never get anything done. I’ll just do like all the other women I know and grit my teeth through the worst of it.”

His expression still seems worried. He reaches out and affectionately brushes his fingers over my ear, and that small touch means more to me than a dozen flowery admissions of love. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he asks. “More tea?”

I shake my head, because I’m going to pace myself on the tea. My menses are a regular visitor and I don’t want to be greedy with the tea. I can make it stretch. “Perhaps a towel so I can clean off?”

He’s on his feet immediately, digging through the fabric. I grimace when he pulls out a dainty scrap of something that’s edged in what looks like very expensive, crumpled lace that manages to be pretty and delicate while soft at the same time. But when he kneels next to me and gently cleans off my skin, I decide it doesn’t matter how nice the material is because his touch is even better. Ranan is so sweet about taking care of me that it makes me want to preen under his touch, and my nipples harden as he moves the fabric over them.