“Dale!” she half screamed, her hips arching up.
He slid his hands beneath them, holding her hips open as he drank from her. Sweet, spicy woman. The taste of her was more arousing than the scent, as arousing as the sight of her. He stabbed at her clit, worrying it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue, lapping at the plump lips of her sex as cream started to pulse from her. Her hands gripped his head, at first, trying to hold him back and then, gripping him closer as he thoroughly loved her with his mouth.
He stroked one hand down her leg before catching her behind the knee, forcing her leg upward, forcing her body to open even more. “Dale, stop,” she pleaded, gasping. His tongue swirled and dipped into her. A slick sheen of sweat rose on her body, her nipples beaded and flushed. “Dale-”
“No,” he whispered, pulling back just a little, licking the taste of her from his mouth, shuddering with pleasure before lowering his mouth to her again, drinking from her once more. He shifted, changed his angle until he could nibble at the bundle of nerves at the top of her wet slit. As his tongue circled and massaged her clit, she flew apart.
With a gasping cry, she fell straight into a deep downward spiral, the breath knocked from her as a storm of white-hot pleasure pummeled her from all sides. Her hips bucked up once more as Dale slid one finger inside her and pressed. The unexpected touch of his finger brushing against her sensitized flesh drew the orgasm out until she could hardly see, could barely breathe as it flooded her through her. A long moan was ripped from her as her body trembled and shattered. Something seemed to open low inside her belly and a dam burst, drenching them both. The heat engulfed her and she knew she would die from it.
No one could feel this kind of heat, this kind of pleasure and live.
But, untold moments later, her eyes drifted open and Dale was crouched above her, watching and waiting. Moisture gleamed along his mouth and when he kissed her, she tasted herself on him. “Roll over,” he murmured, guiding her onto her belly. “I’m dying to see you, all of you.” Her body quaked with nerves from the recent climax as she lay on her belly while his hands stroked down her sides, over her butt, down her legs.
“You’ve got the prettiest ass,” he told her, lowering his head to press a kiss to the soft, firm mounds of flesh. Then he ranged his body behind hers, rocking his cock against her butt and groaning when she shuddered and bucked against him.
“I need you,” he whispered, brushing her hair aside and biting her neck. “I need to be inside you, feel that hot little pussy of yours around me, feel you come.”
She whimpered and squirmed under his hands. “Dale,” she whispered, arching her hips instinctively. The cheeks of her ass closed around him, cuddling the length of his cock and Dale froze, before he rocked gently there, a bead of moisture escaping from the tip to dampen the flesh there, easing the slow, maddening strokes. He thrust against her, with his cock cuddled between the cheeks of her ass, and the feel of it, of her soft hot body, nearly drove him insane. “Not like this,” he panted, rolling her back onto her back. I want to see you, this first time, see you while I fill you.”
“You’re mine,” he whispered as he settled between her thighs. Gripping one leg behind her knee, he opened her wide and plunged into her, deep, until he was settled inside her. “And I’ll never let you go.”
“I sure as hell hope not,” Lauren whispered, clenching around him as the heat started to build inside her once more. Rocking her hips to meet his, she stared up into his eyes, hardly able to believe this was happening, that this was real. She could feel him deep inside, the head of his cock rubbing against that nifty little G-spot a woman was lucky enough to be born with. Each time he nudged it, it pushed her just a little closer to mind shattering ecstasy.
He slowed his thrusts until he was barely rocking inside her, until she was writhing beneath him and pulling at him, her fingers biting into his ass while she tried to pull him further inside.
“Want more?” he asked, pulling out a little farther before easing back inside her. She was tight and hot and wet, her sex gloving his shaft, her muscles caressing him until he was nearly blind with the pleasure of it.
“Please, yes,” she groaned, thrusting her hips high to take him deeper.
“Tell me,” he purred, grasping her hands and pinning them beside her head. “Tell me what you want.” Lowering his head to her ear, he whispered, “Tell me you want me to fuck you, Lauren. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear it.”
Her cheeks flushed as he lifted his head, staring down at her, waiting. But her lips parted and the words left her on a sigh, “Fuck me, Dale. Fuck me hard. I have been waiting my whole life.”
Keeping her hands pinned beside her head, he rose up, shifted until he was riding high on her body and started to fuck her, hard. Just like she had asked.
He felt the muscles low in his spine starting to tighten and tingle as his balls drew
tight against his body. “Shit,” he muttered against the side of her neck, “I can’t wait,
Lauren. I need you too much.” His head swooped down and he set his teeth against the curve of her neck and bit down just as he lost control, semen pulsing out of his body in heavy, hot spurts of fire.
She started to seize around him, her pulsating vaginal walls stroking and gripping his cock, drawing his orgasm out slowly. Her shuddering, convulsing sheath closed around him tightly, until each time those silken muscles tightened around his cock, it seemed to pull a little more come from him until he felt like she had drained him completely.
And when she came around him, those same muscles vicing around him, Dale felt like he had found his way into heaven.
“Are you okay?” he asked later, his voice drowsy. One hand lay protectively over her belly as he cuddled her up against him.
“Never been better,” she said honestly, cupping her hand over her mouth and yawning delicately. “Sorry.”
He grinned against the back of her neck. “Me, too. I thought I had you so worn out you’d forget your manners.”
“Manners? What are they?” she asked, sighing in pleasure as she stared out the window. The sun had already set, leaving the room bathed in pale twilight.
As they drifted towards sleep, only one thought bothered Dale.
Had the baby’s father made her feel this way?
When her eyes drifted open hours later, silvery moonlight was coming through the window, gilding everything with its gentle glow. Against her back, Dale slept on. She was certain she was dreaming. Could this really be happening?
But she could smell him. Pressing her lips together, she could still taste him there. Against her back she felt the solid steady beating of his heart. A dull ache between her thighs remained, a reminder of how they had spent the night.
And what had happened earlier. Her legs went weak just thinking of it, and her insides were turning to hot molten lava. Oh, it was happening all right. Her imagination worked just fine, but nobody’s imagination worked fine enough to conjure up something like that, certainly not without experiencing it in the flesh.
Slowly, she moved out from under his arm, turning around to stare at him. Pale white moonlight lit half his face, casting the other half into shadow. The smile lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes were relaxed. A small smile, a remnant from a dream or what had happened only hours earlier, had the corner of his mouth turned up just slightly.
He said he loved her. Said he wanted to raise this baby with her. Her eyes closed. Oh, how was she going to explain this?
She turned her head away, tears stinging her eyes.
A gentle hand cupped her elbow. “What’s wrong?” Dale asked sleepily, watching her through his lashes. “Regrets already?”
Dashing away tears, she forced out a smile she really didn’t feel. And without even realizing it, took the coward’s way out. “Not one bit. I’m just a little too emotional. Hormones, I guess.” She tucked her chin against her chest, letting him pull her back up against him.
His erection pressed against the small of her back. With a quiet moan, she arched back against him, squirming to get closer. “You’re not sore?” he asked, resting one hand on her belly.
“No,” she whispered, tilting her head to allow him better access to her neck. His teeth nipped at the curve where neck joined shoulder gently before urging her onto her knees. But when she started to turn, he held her still, stroking his hands over her buttocks and hips before one hand slipped between her thighs, long fingers parting her flesh, testing her.
On hands and knees, she tensed when he pressed against her. “Easy, Lauren,” he whispered, rocking gently against her, entering her gently. With each subtle thrust of his hips, he moved deeper inside her. Face buried against the mattress, Lauren whimpered under his touch. Filled almost to bursting, she shuddered as he nudged forward, easing the rest of his length inside her. When he was buried inside her, he smoothed his hands over her hips, before changing his grip, nudging her just slightly forward before pulling her back to meet him. “Tight,” he muttered. “So tight and wet.”
Slowly, he stroked her, caressing her bottom with his hands, murmuring softly to her until the tension left her body. And then, he pushed a little deeper, a little harder.
Hands closing tightly over the linens, she clenched her inner muscles around him. He felt so deep. Tight, yes, damn it. Almost too tight. She moaned now, as he pulled her back a little harder. She thought it hurt, but then she shuddered, moving back this time to meet his hips eagerly, faster and faster, until he was slamming into her, hands clamped on her hips tightly enough to bruise.
She convulsed around him with a scream only moments before he emptied himself into her. Her upper body collapsed, air sawing in and out of her lungs. Behind her, Dale groaned deep in his chest, pulling back before seating himself inside her once more. And then, locking one arm around her waist, he rolled to his side, without breaking their connection. “No regrets, Lauren,” he whispered in her ear before falling back into sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
The morning after. Awkward?
You don’t know the half of it, buddy, Dale said silently to whomever had coined the phrase. Awkward didn’t quite describe how he felt at six thirty two in the morning, crouched around Lauren’s heaving body as she wretched over the toilet. He kept his forearm locked around her waist, the other hand holding her hair back from her face. Her hands were wrapped around his arm, clutching it to her chest, short neat nails biting into his skin with every spasm.
He had been awakened violently when she had shoved out of the bed some twenty minutes earlier. The dry heaves had been wracking her ever since. Tears and sweat soaked her face, and beneath his hands, her body trembled violently.
Five more minutes, he swore. If she doesn’t stop in five minutes, I’m calling that damn doctor.
Four months pregnant, for crying out loud. The morning sickness had stopped weeks ago, hadn’t it? Smoothing a gentle hand over her sweaty hair, he closed his eyes in sympathy, and a little pain, as her nails bit into his forearm when another spasm hit her, this one was longer in duration, stronger.
And final.
The five minutes was up and Dale was wiping a damp cold cloth over her flushed face. Her eyes closed, cheeks pale under the flush, soft wide mouth still trembling. “Are you okay now?” he asked quietly, using the cloth on her neck.
“I- I think so,” she whispered, letting her head fall back to rest against his shoulder. “Sorry.” Her voice, slightly stronger now, was prim and polite and quite lady like.
“Not a problem,” he replied, amused at both of them. They had spent more time engaged in bedtime sports than in sleep. Instead of sleeping late and waking to a leisurely bout of morning sex and breakfast, they were up at the crack of dawn while she lost what little was left in her belly after a rather busy night.
Resting his cheek on her head, he rocked her back and forth, perched rather precariously on the edge of the deep bathtub. Once the tremors had passed, he raised his head and brushed her tangled hair back from her face. Studying her, he realized this was the first time he had seen her this defenseless. Even when she’d caught the flu a winter or so back, she had looked better than most women could look on their best days. Granted, he hadn’t seen her the first two days when she had practically camped on the bathroom floor.
“Is there anything I can get you to help?”
“Crackers,” she said, eyes closing again as weariness settled in.
Five minutes later, he had her back in bed, seated behind her, propping her weary body against his while she munched on a saltine. “I thought you were past this stage,” he said, finger combing the tangles from her ebony hair.
With a wry grimace, Lauren responded, “So did I. That doctor is fired.”
A smile tugging at his mouth, Dale told her, “I don’t think she’s to blame for this.” He rested the flat of his hand on her forehead, testing. “You don’t feel warm, but maybe you’re coming down with something.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m feeling better already, just really tired.” She rested her head against his shoulder and rolled her eyes over to meet his. “For some reason, I didn’t sleep well.”
He frowned, face folded in somber lines. “Lauren, a woman in your condition should take better care of herself. Early to bed, a stout breakfast in the morning. No wild sex.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “No, scratch that last part. he wild sex isn’t hurting anything.”
She smiled, closing her eyes and rolling her head until it rested in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “No. Not a thing,” she murmured. The bout of nausea was gone, as though it hadn’t happened. She sighed in pleasure as his hand rested on the curve of her belly.
Dale was no longer able to keep from asking, “Who was he, Lauren?”
But she had already fallen asleep, a peaceful smile on her face. Her head rested on his shoulder and as he watched, she shifted, raising one hand to rest on his chest, right above his heart.
Dale closed his eyes, breathed out slowly. Was it better this way? Dale had the weird idea that as long as she didn’t speak his name out loud, the father of the baby wouldn’t be real. He wouldn’t have to face it.
He desperately needed to know.
He desperately didn’t want to.
* * * * *
Lauren was certain she had never been so happy in her life. The man she had dreamed about for years, had loved endlessly, finally loved her back. She didn’t doubt it; she recognized the look in his eyes when he smiled at her. She ought to, after seeing that same gleam in her eyes for so long.
Only one thing managed to put a pall on her pleasure.
She hadn’t told him.
Several times, she had tried. But she was so scared of what might happen. And Dale didn’t seem to care about it. Since that first time he’d asked, no, demanded to know, he hadn’t spoken of it again.
If her guilt cast a slight pall on her joy, it was a small price to pay. She told herself he didn’t want to know, so she didn’t need to tell him. She knew she was being a fool, and a coward.
There were no more bouts of morning sickness. She eased into her fifth month, and then her sixth, before she finally had to start wearing maternity clothes. Even then, few people who knew her realized she was pregnant. Resting his hand on her belly as they waited for her turn to have the ultrasound, Dale asked the question for the millionth time, “Let’s find out what the baby is. We can be more prepared that way.”
“No,” she replied, pleasantly, flipping the pages of a glossy magazine. She shifted on the hard chair before glancing at her watch. These things always took forever. Sometime in the fourth month the obstetrician had decided she wanted monthly ultrasounds to monitor the baby’s growth. She hadn’t been very pleased with Lauren’s birth canal; it was too narro
w. Lauren had snorted at that, well aware of her more than adequate hip width.
“It’s not the hips that concern me, Lauren. It’s the rest of it,” Dr. Flynn had remarked dryly. “If that baby weighs more than eight pounds, you’ll be having a cesarean.”
Dale had paled and panicked at that, his hand closing tightly over Lauren’s, questions shooting from his mouth like bullets, one after the other, hardly giving the doctor a chance to answer.
So far, so good, Lauren mused. She got the munchies often enough, but she was carrying the baby so high, she was forced to eat much smaller meals any way. She rarely indulged her sweet tooth. It wasn’t that the baby’s size worried her. he was a mature woman, capable of handling a crisis should it come her way.
No. She wasn’t worried at all about the baby’s size.
It was the word cesarean that worried her. The idea of surgery is what had her pale and panicky. Not that she would let Dale know. The man was a basket case already, quoting advice from pregnancy books from dawn till dusk. He was being so damn sweet, coddling her, cuddling her, comforting her. If he knew how worried she was about the thought of having to undergo a cesarean, he would be doubly worried about it.
She sat there, fretting about the possibility of having her flesh sliced into by some knife welding M.D., pretending she was interested in how to better her self esteem and boost her sexuality. Doctors were screened for psychopathic tendencies before they got their medical degrees, weren’t they?
She sat waiting for the word game to begin.
A monotonous tapping drew her eyes from the magazine. Dale was rocking back in his chair, tapping his feet, causing a shortened chair leg to rattle on the bare floor. “Must you?” she asked mildly, eyeing his feet.
“Nope,” he replied, continuing his little drum roll with his size elevens serving as the drumsticks.
“Will you please stop?” she politely requested, rustling the magazine in front of her.
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