Beauty From Love

by Georgia Cates

  Beautiful? I’m about to combust and he’s telling me it’s lovely? “Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. I don’t care which. It’s your choice but do something. Please.” Desperation. That’s what I hear in my voice.

  I’m this man’s puppet and it isn’t the first time. Nor will it be the last.

  I’m still on my back with a pillow under my hips. Not for long. He yanks it out from beneath me and tosses it aside. “Touch you, lick you, or fuck you. My choice, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “I believe I’ll do all three.” He flips me over to my stomach and I make an unexpected high-pitched sound when I land on the mattress. Jack Henry finds it amusing; I can hear him chuckle behind me. Then he’s at my ear and his voice is breathy. “You’re gonna like this.”

  His promise sends a thrill straight through me and it concentrates in my core. “Whatever it is you’re gonna do, I wish you’d hurry up and do it already.”

  “No instant gratification for you, Mrs. McLachlan. It comes fast and is gone too quickly. I want you to enjoy the anticipation.” He slides his hand around to my stomach and then down to the cusp between my thighs. “This is me touching you.” He cups his hand over me and moves it up and down. “And this is me licking you.” His tongue starts at the base of my lower back and he drags it up my spine slowly. He gets about halfway up when my body bows uncontrollably, sending my bottom up from the bed, arching in response to the sensation. That’s when I feel him enter me from behind. “And this is me fucking you. All three at the same time.”

  His weight presses my front into the mattress. I grasp the comforter and bring it to my mouth to bite so I can stifle my scream. All these sensations—touch, lick, fuck—are too much to bear at once. Each thrust forces a moan, sounding much like an animalistic grunt, from my mouth.

  He does something new when he brings his palm down and smacks my bottom. It’s not hard enough to hurt but I jump because I wasn’t expecting it. And then he squeezes my cheek. Hard. It’s not something he’s done to me before.

  How can he work the front and the back like this at the same time? There’s only one answer. Talent.

  His mouth leaves my back and is next to my ear. He takes it in his mouth and sucks it hard. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna leave a hickey on my earlobe. “I’m so close, L, but I want you to come around me first.”

  And as if he holds the power to control my body, I do. Big time. I fist the edge of the mattress and scream, “Ohhh!” Each of his last few thrusts propel me across the bed and I’m glad to be holding onto something so I’m not sent face first into the floor.

  Gah, he likes it rough sometimes. Good thing I do too.

  He stills and lowers his body to lie against my back, kissing across my shoulders. He’s so tender and gentle—a huge change from the man forcefully thrusting himself into my body just a moment ago. “I see that Mr. Hyde has returned to being Dr. Jekyll.”

  I feel him press his face to my back. “You don’t like Mr. Hyde?” He rubs his hands up my arms.

  “I most certainly do. A lot.”

  He gives my shoulder one last kiss before pulling out of me and rolling to the bed. He lies next to me, and I don’t move when he gently dances his nails up and down my back. “It’s fucking ridiculous how much you turn me on. It’s like you have this crazy power over me and sometimes I feel like it takes over.” He strokes my lower back in a circular motion. “You know I’d want you to tell me if I ever do anything you don’t like, right?”

  Is he talking about slapping and squeezing my ass? “I know, but don’t worry—I love everything you do to me. Especially this new triad of sensation—touch, lick, fuck. I hope you do it again soon.”

  He lowers his fingertips to my cheeks and traces them back and forth, occasionally gliding one down my crack, but never close enough to touch the place that remains unexplored.

  I wonder if he’s doing it because he’s toying with the idea of trying it. I think I assumed anal sex was something neither of us had experienced, but the truth is I have no idea what he’s done with other women. Frankly, I’m not sure I want to know, but the question eats at me and I’m afraid it’ll continue if I don’t find out. His favorite position is from behind. Does that mean he really wants it the other way but isn’t asking me for it?

  “Do you think it would be a mistake to talk about sexual encounters we’ve had with others?”

  His hand goes motionless. “I don’t want to know anything about you and Blake. I’m content with pretending the whole thing never happened.”

  I’ve told him that Blake never made me come. Jack Henry’s the only man who’s ever done that for me, so he knows sex with Blake wasn’t good. I’m sure that leads him to think we didn’t do much exploring—and he’d be right. Sex with Blake was always missionary and it ended with him getting off as soon as possible. End of story.

  “What if I wanted to know about the things you’ve done with the women before me?”

  He sighs. “I’d say no good can come from talking about it.” He begins stroking my back again. “You are my wife. Nothing before you matters. Nada.”

  But it does because it matters to me. I want to know if he’s fucked another woman in the ass. More importantly, I need to know if he liked it, so I’m going for it. I’m pushing all my chips to the center of the table. No folding for me. “Did you have anal sex with the others?”

  His hand goes motionless again. “What do you hope to gain by talking about things that happened before I knew you?”

  Shit. That’s a yes. Now I wish I hadn’t asked.

  I drop my face to the bed but turn away from Jack Henry. I don’t want him to see how bothered I am. “I just wanted to know that I was the one to fulfill your deepest desires, not someone else who came before me.”

  “L. That’s not my deepest desire.”

  “But you liked doing it?”

  “I didn’t say I’d done that with any of the others. I haven’t.” His hand returns to its previous motion. “I think all guys think about it. I know I do when I’m giving it to you from behind, but it’s not something you’ve done before. I figure you’ll tell me if you ever want to try it and we’d experiment, if it’s what you want. If you never want to, it’s fine.”

  The act seems so unnatural and unromantic to me. “It scares me.”

  “Then we won’t do it. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I’m sure it’s something Addison has done. I can ask her to tell me about it.” I lift my head and peer over my shoulder. “I would try it if it’s what you wanted.”

  “My mates talk about it all the time, but this is what I know. Fucking you in the ass doesn’t get us a baby.” He kisses my shoulder. “I want all of my swimmers in the right place.”

  Good grief.

  I lift my head and roll over so I can look at him. I’m almost shocked by his words. Almost. He just used the phrase fucking you in the ass and the word baby in the same sentence. I’m pretty sure that combination is just wrong, but that’s my caveman. No filter. And I love him for it.

  “If this whole conception thing works out tonight, then we’ll have a baby before Christmas.” And before our one-year anniversary. That’s a little terrifying.

  “If you got pregnant tonight, when would the baby come?”

  “I’d be due on October first.” He looks at me grinning and I shrug. “What? I Googled it.”

  Breakfast with Margaret, Emma, and Chloe turned into the two mothers giving me all kinds of tips on how to get pregnant. Between the two of them, they have six kids, so it appears they know what they’re talking about.

  I return to our apartment after spending the morning with the McLachlan ladies and find our bags sitting next to the door. “In a hurry much?”

  “There’s a rainstorm coming soon. I’d prefer to be home before it starts.”

  “You don’t like driving in th
e rain?” Technically, I guess it’s riding instead of driving since we’ll be in the backseat.

  “Not really. Dad and I were in a car accident in the rain when I was ten. I still remember the car hydroplaning.” He stops to kiss my forehead as he walks by with the last piece of luggage. “I haven’t been much of a fan since.”

  “Was it a bad accident?”

  He puts the bag down and points to his upper arm. “Broke my arm so bad, the bone was sticking out through the skin.”

  I wince, thinking of the pain he must’ve endured at such a young age. “That sounds terrible.”

  He pushes his sleeve up and I’m able to see a faint scar—one I’ve never noticed before—and I stroke my fingertips over it. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

  There’s so much I still don’t know about Jack Henry, but I plan to learn it all.

  I place my purse on the table by the door. “Can I have a minute to do a walk-through? Just to make sure I’m not leaving anything I want to take home.”

  “Of course. You can do that while I take these bags to the car.”

  I walk into the bedroom and the linens on the bed are thrown about from our baby-making sessions. I guess he has someone who’ll come in to clean after we’re gone. Or maybe I’ve assumed too much and it’s something I should’ve taken care of prior to leaving. Too late now.

  I feel him come up behind me and his arms wrap me in a tight cocoon. “Remembering what we did in that bed last night? And this morning?”

  “I am—vividly. There’s a lot of biological material on those sheets. I should have washed them this morning since we’re leaving.” It seems gross, and maybe rude, to leave the bedding for someone else to clean.

  “I have someone who will come in to take care of it.”

  Well, there’s no time for worrying about it now. “Okay. Let me take a look in the bathroom and then we can go.”

  I go inside for a once-over and decide I’m all good. If I leave something, I can buy it in Wagga. Maybe. It’s not exactly a large town with a lot of shopping options but it’s where Jack Henry and I have made our home, and I love living there.

  I’m walking out the door when something in the trash can catches my eye. I stop and look at the blue box I’ve become so very familiar with since our honeymoon—one of our many boxes of spermicide. I reach down to take it out and hold it up while standing in the doorway. I clear my throat to catch Jack Henry’s attention. “I see you trashed this. Did you take pleasure in doing that?”

  He gives me a crooked grin. “Hell yeah, I liked throwing that shit away. It makes our decision to have a baby feel much more real.”

  I’ll agree with that. It’s feeling very real right now.

  We arrive at Avalon with about thirty minutes to spare before the bottom drops out of the sky and a raging thunderstorm descends. Laurelyn’s standing at the wall of windows overlooking the vineyard, watching the sheets come down. “I love rain. It relaxes me.”

  I approach from behind and wrap my arms around her waist. “I don’t dislike rain, only driving in it.”

  “It’s perfect for napping.”

  “Then you should go lie down for a while and I’ll get you up in a couple hours.”

  “I am pretty tired.” She looks at me over her shoulder. “Both of us were up late, so I think you should join me.” I’m not sure but I think this is an invitation for something besides napping? “It’s Sunday—Mrs. Porcelli isn’t here.” Yes. This is an invitation for daytime sex and perhaps a nap afterward. Both work great for me.

  I tug on her hands. “I’m in.”

  I lower the roman shades, darkening the bedroom. “You’re right. Today is perfect for napping.”

  She crawls onto the bed and then moves to her knees. She pulls her dress over her head and drops it before reaching around to unfasten her bra. “It is, but I think today is even more perfect for making a baby.”

  She’s going full force at Project Conception and it’s a total turn-on. “You’re really in to this.” I kick off my shoes and unfasten my jeans. I pull my T-shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor.

  She wiggles her bum as she pushes her knickers down her hips. “I don’t do anything halfway.”

  I’m moving to the bed when she tosses the white lace at me, successfully landing it on my shoulder. I grasp the nearly nonexistent piece of fabric and bring it to my nose. Her scent is intoxicating and I’m positive it’s impossible to ever get enough of it. I’m completely possessed by her. “Do you realize you hold complete authority over me?”

  “Funny, I’ve thought the same thing about you on many occasions.”

  “I once chose to do things only if they pleased me. Now everything I do is for you because I want you to be happy.”

  She crawls to the edge of the bed to meet me and puts her arms around my shoulders. She drags her mouth across my jawline toward my ear. “And I am. You can’t imagine how happy you make me.”

  “Bet I can.”

  She backs away and moves to sit on her bum before sliding to the middle of the bed. She spreads her hair as she lies down, a precaution she takes so it doesn’t get caught beneath her back. It’s crazy how great she looks—sexier than any woman I’ve ever seen photographed in a nudie mag—and she’s for my eyes only. I covet that.

  She’s lying on her back with her feet apart and knees closed. She looks so timid and innocent, but I know better, so I kneel and place a hand on each leg and push them apart. She lifts her arms over her head and arches her back as she grasps the edge of the mattress. She knows something good is about to happen and I wouldn’t dare disappoint.

  Touch. It’s so simplistic in certain aspects, and so very complex in others.

  I place my thumb against Laurelyn’s clit, applying the slightest pressure, but I don’t move it. The brain is the largest sex organ for a woman, so I want her to anticipate what’s coming … to crave it. I want to hear her ask me to give it to her. I won’t deny that I enjoy holding this kind of power over her, the same as she enjoys the control she has over me.

  She begins rotating her hips but my hand remains stationary, frustrating her to no end. I give her a few rotations of my thumb and she moans once before I stop. “Come on, McLachlan. Don’t do this to me.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  She lifts her foot to my shoulder and pokes me with her toes. “You know what. You’re teasing me.”

  “I need specifics.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You want me to talk dirty.”

  “Yeah. I want to hear you say filthy things like a bad girl.” She rocks against my hand and I move it away. “Uh-uh … you don’t get what you want until you ask for it.”

  I wait in anticipation of the nasty things she might say. What will it be? Finger-fuck her? Suck her clit? Put my tongue inside her? I’m hard with anticipation but she shocks me with her words, as she often does. “I want you to put a baby inside me.” Her voice is soft and so sweet. It crumbles any of the bad-boy exterior I pretend to have.

  I was set to have fun, to play dirty. I wanted to make her beg for an orgasm but hearing her ask me for a child changes everything. It brings out my tender side, a part of me I didn’t know existed until she came into my life, and it’s something she sees far too little.

  I place my hands on her hips and rub my thumbs over her hipbones. “I can’t wait to watch you grow with our child.” I lower my mouth to her stomach and place a kiss below her navel. “I’m going to kiss your swelling belly every day.”

  Her hand is at the back of my head, her fingers stroking my hair. “You’ll make a wonderful father.”

  I move up so I’m hovering above her, careful to not press too much of my weight against her. “You told me you were afraid you’d be a shitty mother, like Jolie.”

  “We aren’t supposed to address anything said during confessional. We agreed, McLachl
an. That’s the reason we can feel safe to say the things we wouldn’t normally confess to one another.”

  “I know, and I’ll only make an exception this one time because I want you to go into this knowing you are nothing like Jolie. You are the most self-sacrificing person I know and your love stretches beyond measure. It isn’t possible for you to be anything but a wonderful mother.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She bends her knees and I pull back so I can move into position. She pulls me down so she can kiss my mouth and I whisper against her lips, “And this baby will be loved.” Her hands find mine so she can intertwine our fingers. She squeezes them into a tight fist and watches my eyes as I enter her. “He or she already is.”

  She doesn’t take her eyes from mine as I move in and out of her. It feels so intimate, like she’s seeing straight into the depths of my soul, and it leaves me feeling spread wide, exposed. I’ve never felt a moment like this with anyone, and I love it. I want her to see all of me.

  I’m sliding in and out of L slowly when I feel her legs come up and around my body. She’s coaxing me deeper so I thrust harder, bringing me closer to climax. I push her legs back and apart as I thrust the last time, filling her body with a part of myself.

  When I’m finished, I pull out slowly and reach for a pillow at the head of the bed. I motion for her to lift her bum. “Upsy, love.” She lifts and I slide the pillow under her hips, repeating the same routine as the night before with her legs in the air resting on my shoulders.

  “I don’t think my legs have to be up. I’m sure there’s been plenty of babies conceived without being in this position.”

  She tries to take her ankles from my shoulders but I hold them firmly in place. “But the view is so very lovely, Mrs. McLachlan. It would be a favor to me personally if you stayed this way for a while.”

  She grins while shaking her head. “You’re going to do it again, aren’t you?”