No

Lana decides against telling him.

The sleep-orgasm stays hers. The hand on her mouth. The cum between her thighs. If she says it, it becomes a rule or a joke or a thing Mia gets on the next call. She wants it where it is.

Adam walks to the bedroom. She follows.

He lies down on his side, back to the middle of the bed, already in sweats. She gets in beside him in a shirt and panties, facing the opposite way, on purpose. The lamp is off. She has almost given up on an orgasm.

And then his hand slides into her panties.

She gasps. He is close behind her now. His cock, hard, fits against her ass through the sweats. Two fingers find her already wet — from the call, from the praise, from the secret — and push in.

“Such a good wife,” he says, mouth at her ear “You didn’t brag. You didn’t ask for anything. Chores are done. Morning was good. This is the reward for today.”

He fucks her with his fingers. Slow. Curling. The heel of his hand on her clit through the cotton he has tugged aside. Lana’s hips jerk back against his cock and she does not reach for herself. His voice stays in her ear.

“Good girl. Soaked already. You like being told you did well. Mia said the fake wife wasn’t a bad idea. She was right. You swallowed me this morning and looked at me while you did it. That’s the duty. That’s you.”

Lana moans. The praise and the fingers stack. His cock rocks against her ass in a lazy rhythm, not fucking her, just there, thick, while his hand works her cunt. Wet sounds. Her panties dragged out of the way. She clutches the pillow.

“Cum,” he whispers. “You earned this one too. Good wife. Give it to me.”

She cums with a loud moan. Thighs shaking. Cunt pulsing around his fingers, a gush soaking his hand and the panties still bunched at her thigh. He works her through it, until she is panting and oversensitive and trying not to fold forward.

He pulls his fingers out. Licks them. She hears it in the dark, the same shock as the first time, smaller now and still sharp. Then he turns over. Away from her. Breathing already lengthening.

Asleep, or close enough.

Lana stays on her side. Panties wet with her. Cunt fluttering. His taste not in her mouth this time, only the sound of him licking his fingers and leaving. She does not fix the underwear. She lies there until the panting slows.

Eventually she dozes off.

She hopes, as she goes under, that something like last night will happen again. His hand. His cock between her thighs. The orgasm he does not remember. She does not move closer to make it true. She just hopes.