Illustration by Hector Ruiz


“My husband, you wanted to talk.”

Ezinma had just served Nnanyelu’s dinner in his obi. Outside the sun was on its way to sleep as night crept in. An oil lamp flickered in the corner.

She shifted nervously, feeling apprehensive. She suspected the topic her husband wished to discuss.

It had been a few weeks since her return to her husband’s house and several moons since the death of her father, Okonkwo by his own hands.

Ezinma had been fond of her late father, and his demise had affected her extremely hard. The clan was still torn from the fall out with the invaders.

For many months, she mourned his loss and fell into depression, moody and snappy. Even after her return to her husband’s house, her mood had not lifted.

Nnanyelu had been understanding and patient. But he had his limits, and he was no pushover. In this aspect, he was a little like her father. And like her father, he had achieved greatness at a young age, which was part of her attraction to him when he proposed.

Nnanyelu looked up at her, his eyes fringed by long, dark lashes, like pools she could drown in.

“My wife, I wanted to ask you, what can I do to make you happy again?” his voice was deep and quiet.

“I don’t understand.” She was taken aback by his question. She had been expecting a confrontation. He was entitled to demand what was rightfully his to take. She had even feared the worse, the introduction of a second wife this early in their marriage.

He dipped his hands in the bowl of water, washed and dried them. Then he lifted her hand, trailing his fingertips along the inside of her bare arm, sending tingles shooting to her core.

“Nna m,” she gasped as something stirred low within her belly. Awareness of her husband made her heart skip a beat.

His brow lifted, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “You haven’t called me that in months.”

Her cheeks heated. “You haven’t touched me like that in months.”

“Only because when I tried to once, you snapped at me and pushed me away.” His large hand covered hers. “But it has been months, Ezi m. Perhaps now, you are ready for me. Ready for me to make you smile and laugh again.”

He trailed his fingertips up her arm and changed direction, tickling her ribs.

She yelped, breaking into giggles. “Stop.”

He didn’t stop. Instead, he extended the other hand, tickling both sides.

She screeched with laughter, getting up to avoid him.

He followed, tackling her onto the mat in the middle of his obi.

Suddenly, they both stopped laughing.

The air was warm, thick with an awakening.

His gaze pinned her to the spot, just as his body pressed hers to the mat.

“Perhaps now you are ready to welcome me inside you, Ezi m.” His voice had a husky tinge that rumbled through her.

His eyes were filled with a desire she couldn’t explain. His tongue moved down her neck and along her collar bone, searing a path. His touch scorched her straight to her soul.

Body trembling, she felt a need pulsating in her core, leaving her confused. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, couldn’t seem to speak or even produce a coherent thought.

Her heart raced, and her voice was shaky when she finally formed the words. “Nna m, I am ready.”

“Ezi m,” he groaned before merging their mouths.

His kiss was hungry, ravenous, his tongue sweeping her mouth.

She clung to him, moaning, as yearning bloomed and erupted within her.

Wherever he touched on her body, he left a trail of heat. A storm raged between them. He lifted his head, and she panted for breath. The sound of her heartbeats rivaled the sounds of the festival drums.

His smelled of rain-washed earth and Nnanyelu, her favorite scent. The way he looked at her in the darkening room, like he could eat her up. Maybe that was his intention as he lowered his head and suckled her breast. She held his head, arching her back to push into his mouth.

Sensation built with each touch, making her crave more. No one else had ever made her feel this way.

He continued kissing and licking her skin as he removed her clothing.

She whimpered, moving restlessly, seeking the elusive completion of what he had started. She closed her eyes, her senses heightened, her body climbing to a peak of sensitivity.

Something grazed her hooded flesh, caressing her intimately.

Eyes flying open, she cried out. Her body felt wound tight. The pleasure overtook her in a feverish sensation, and she floated in a cloud.

It took a few gasping breaths before she became aware of her surroundings again.

“Ezi m, welcome me.” Nnanyelu knelt between her legs, his hardened manhood pushing against her moist entrance.

“Nna m—” she gasped at his girth “—come inside.”

Leaning over, he fused their lips again, reigniting the fiery feeling in her body. She relaxed, and her body accepted him. There was sudden pain overtaken by pleasure as he moved slowly. Her body gradually expanding as his thick hot flesh filled her.

“You are sweet.” He paused, his expression contorted in bliss.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper inside.

He kissed her again, and with one push filled her completely. He set a slow, tender pace, gradually taking her back to her peak and robbing her of breaths. She explored the feel of his taut skin against her palm, moving her hands down his back. The sound of their lovemaking filled the chamber.

He squeezed his hand between their sweat-slicked bodies and rubbed her sensitive, hooded nub. Her release came in waves, sweeping from her toes to her head and finally exploded into a myriad of colours, making her scream his name. A few more thrusts and his release followed.

Later, when they were entwined on the pallet, and Nnanyelu was asleep, Ezinma whispered into the night, rubbing her flat stomach.

“Nna m, I look forward to welcoming you into the world again.”


Read Thighs Fell Apart: “Ikemefuna” (Episode 2)