by Liv Bennett
I break into laughter because she’s seriously asking me that. “All that talk was to ask me to stick my dick inside you without a condom?”
She laughs, too, kissing me with her lips, wet and salty with tears. My hands resume their positions on her ass, and she starts rocking back and forth. “I don’t know how it’ll be... I might be a little too sensitive down there.”
“Want me to work you up until you beg for it and then slow fuck you?”
She blushes again, as if we hadn’t had sex more than some thousand times. I shift in my place and move over her until she’s lying on her back. Her blouse comes off first, then her slacks. She’s wearing a see-though, red-lace bra and matching panties. Her chest rises and falls, her nipples erupting behind the transparent fabric. I take off my clothes, while drinking in the curves of her body, the mound between her legs, and the moist panties that are a clear sign of her arousal.
I’ve been relying on my hand for so long now, it feels dreamlike having her half-naked, waiting expectantly and aroused for me. Anxiety is eating at me, like it’s my first time with a girl. It never occurred to me her sex would be affected by birth. I’ll have to be extra-careful, extra-patient to keep my impulses in check.
While placing my pants on the arm of the couch beside my jacket, the package of condom slips out.
Taylor arches an eyebrow at the sight of the box beside her feet. “You’re gonna have to give it to someone as a gift because I’m not planning to have them inside me, ever.”
“We’ll see about that when you’re pregnant with our fourth kid in four years.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I’d rather take it as a threat, but it’s your interpretation, of course.” My hands find her belly, caressing it, feeling its small slope. It hasn’t gone back to its flatness before the pregnancy, neither has her wide hips. “You’re beautiful. More beautiful than ever.”
Her eyes widen at my words, and her chest heaves up and down. “You know the scientists say men are half blind to the imperfections of the women they’re mating with.”
“Those pseudo-scientists haven’t had the luck to see you.” I dip my head to her navel, digging my tongue inside it, unable to push away the disappointment as I remember the fullness of her stomach just a few months ago. What could have been for us if our daughter were healthy? She’d be a month old by now, making us dizzy with joy and exhaustion.
“Adam,” Taylor whispers, her head lifted to look at me, and I realize my eyes are getting wet with my tears, so is her belly.
She reaches for me and cradles my cheeks in her hands, pulling me up over to her, and I move up carefully and press my lips against hers. She locks her arms and legs tightly around me, the imprisonment of my body in her fragile limbs giving me a rush of thrill. “We’re going to get over it together.”
“You bet we will.” I grind my erection, now free of any slacks or boxers, against her pussy, feeling it twitch at the touch of the soaking wet fabric of her panties. I manage to pull a hand, sneak it between us, and trace the rim of her panties until I reach her entrance. My cock wasn’t imagining it, she’s dripping. The long months without loving each other have been tough on her, too.
Her breathing quickens, as I place my thumb on her clit and two fingers against her entrance. So soft and swollen. “Baby, I want to see you, taste you. Will you let me?”
Her eyes grow large with panic and concern. Does she worry I’ll not find her pussy desirable after birth? Does she seriously consider that a possibility, even after I’ve explained to her about my pregnancy fetish? After the countless times she’s seen her sexual effect on me instantly from just a brief touch or a kiss?
“Just let me,” I demand, and she loosens her arms around me. I slide down, taking off her bra, pulling down her panties as I progress, then spread her legs wide open. My mouth waters instantly at the sight of the pink flesh glistering with her arousal. How I could go without the sight and taste of it is a mystery I don’t want to delve into. A brief look over at Taylor’s face, and she’s covering her eyes with the back of her hands.
“Come on. Do you want me to hold a mirror down here to show that it hasn’t changed? Besides, a pussy is a pussy is a pussy.”
“Who says that?” She’s biting her lips to keep herself from a forceful smile.
“Adriana.”
“Ewww.”
“Who would you have preferred to have said it? Dr. Phil?” With that I dig in, lick her clit gently, without allowing her any chance to resist. Her ludicrous resolve melts away quickly, and she bucks into my mouth, demanding more with unintelligible words. The addition of my fingers slipping into her has her arching forward with a moan.
“You missed that, didn’t you?” My voice is teasing, but not as much as my fingers smoothing those needy cushions inside her throbbing sex, and soon she’s convulsing around my fingers. The taste of her juices gushing out of her channel, the musical tone in her soft moans awaken my depraved, animal side, the side that has been neglected for far too long, and I straighten up, resuming my posture between her legs.
Before waiting too long, I poke the head of my cock into her entrance. “You’ll let me know if it hurts.” Because I’ll have no way of knowing it with my lust-filled mind.
She gives me curt nod, barely keeping her heavy-lidded eyes open.
Placing her left leg over my shoulder, I ease into her, slowly, inch by inch, letting the feeling of having her back soak in, watching her eyes grow wide with awe. We both gasp when I’m inside her to the hilt, and I throw the other leg over my shoulder to get deeper into her. To reclaim every depth of her.
She licks her lips, spiking my desire to kiss them, and I lean down, enjoying the flexibility of her legs moving with my body against hers. She lifts her head to kiss me while her insides pulse around my cock, milking me, pushing me forcefully close to the edge. I pull back and thrust, earning a hearty cry of my name from her lovely mouth into mine. I kiss her again, fucking her mouth with my tongue as my cock conquers every inch of her pussy. Her hands are everywhere around my body, scraping my back, rubbing my arms, massaging my ass cheeks, pulling me against her.
This is all too arousing, our fucking filled with longing and primal desire, her hazed whimpers, the way her breasts sway back and forth in synch with our fuck. Her sex-filled scent. The sweet taste of her demanding mouth. My shaft is throbbing agonizingly against the hot cushions of her inner walls. My balls are aching with the need to release, the desire to fill her with my hot seed.
I slip my arms beneath her to keep her body in place, as I pump harder into her. So much for slow sex. Our first sex after six months, and she’ll probably need a week or two to recover the aftermath of my crazy desire for her. I bury my head into the ocean of her hair over her shoulder and take in her desire-filled moans that are coming out one after another, and louder each time.
And, before I can even consider controlling myself, I come hard and detonate deep into her, my mind unable to absorb the magnitude of the explosion inside her and the overwhelming triumph of marking her as mine again. “Take this as a proof of my infinite desire for you,” I say between ragged breaths and collapse beside her on the couch.
“Or proof that you might be developing premature ejaculation.” She grins, her eyes closed, her mouth wide open to catch her breath.
“Mind you; it took you less than a minute to come by my fingers.”
She rolls on her side to hug me and rests her head on my chest. “I have a confession to make.”
My eyebrow arches instantly, and I tilt my head to the side to see her face. “That you enjoyed my premature release way too much?”
Slapping at my chest, she moves up to sit. “I gave away all the money I inherited from Jack.”
I chuckle, because it’s a joke. It must be a joke.
“I donated all of it,” she repeats, when she doesn’t receive any reaction out of me.
“Are you pulling a trick on me?”
“I’m s
erious.”
That’s more than hundred million dollars. Fuck! I jump up to sit. “The company as well?”
“No, I still own the company. I owe it to Jack to keep it in business and successful and I’ll work hard for it. I just didn’t want the curse of his money on me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Before Valerie died, she told me all the devastating things happening to me were the result of owning the money that didn’t belong to me.”
“And you believed that crap?”
“I don’t know. But I want to make it right with karma. I believe if I help others with whatever I have, the bad luck will stop chasing after me. Are you mad?”
“A little shocked, that’s it. Where did you donate it?”
“To free clinics across L.A.”
I raise my hand up to her cheeks, caressing my way to her lips, still considering the possibility that she might be joking. Who can give up that amount of money? “With that amount of money, they’ll become a competition against Cedar Sinai,” I joke.
“I really hope that.”
He gives me a rueful smile. “Our kids will be mad at you when they find out what you did.”
“They won’t know if you don’t tell them.”
“They’ll wonder why a free clinic has your name, because I’m sure that’s what one of those clinics will do.”
She shrugs. “Now it’s time for you to confess something.”
“What?” I ask. “I don’t have any secrets.”
“You still haven’t told me the third reason behind your abstinence game, other than the miscarriage and your birthday present.”
“Oh that.”
She bobs her head up and down, her eyes searching my face for a response.
“I wanted to give you the best sex of your life,” I say. “I wanted to be better than Jack in at least one area, and I figured if I left you hungry for a while, you’d have higher sexual tension and be sensitive to what I’d do to you once the time came.”
“Hmmm.” She licks her lips; her eyes lingered ever so slowly over my chest, driving me crazy all over again.
“Did I succeed? Did I give you the best sex of your life?”
“Depends on the definition of the best sex. If you consider the number of orgasms reached in one go, then you’d already given it to me when we had sex for the first time in your apartment.”
“That one was a lot of fun. I never imagined you’d beg for me to have sex with you.” Just remembering that night sends chill shivers up and down my spine.
“But that was hardly the only great sex we had. There were so many unforgettable ones, it’s impossible to choose the best. If you define it by the intensity, I’m torn between the one I got you tied up and made you think that blonde girl I hired was fucking you and the one we had at the end of your abstinence game.” Her eyes dilate, and I can tell her mind is occupied by similar images, too. Even talking about sex with her is enough to throw me off the cliff of the sexual desires all together.
“Those two times are among my favorites, too, but nothing compares to the first time I had you. I adored that slutty nurse uniform.”
She gives me a blushing smile. My heart thumps hard at the thought of her obscene behavior that night. She, among all people, chose to have sex that way.
“You’re better than Jack in another area, too,” she says, pulling me away from those naughty images.
“What is it?”
She has my full attention. “I don’t know how to name it, though.”
“Explain it.”
“I survived Jack’s death, although I wasn’t the same person,” she says. “But, if something happens to you, or you leave me, that’ll be my end. I can’t live without you.”
“It’s only because you suffered a lot after Jack’s death,” I say, shrugging.
“I also thought that would be it, but it’s not. I realized how intensely I love you because of that text message I received about the pregnancy news of the other woman. I don’t think I’d ever agree to take Jack back if he’d cheated on me, but I was willing to stay with you, despite the existence of another woman in your life.”
I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Now, tell me when you fell in love with me.”
“I think it was when we danced at the company’s anniversary.”
“To the Sinatra song?”
“Yeah. I’ve got you under my skin.”
My eyebrows pull together. The memories of that night feel ages ago. “But you cried and left. I thought it reminded you of Jack.”
“No, no.” She shakes her head. “I don’t have any memories of that song associated with Jack, as popular as the song is.”
“Why did you cry, then?”
“I didn’t know why at that time,” she says. “I realized the reason later on. Until the time of our dance, my heart had been completely Jack’s. But the way you hummed the song, so beautifully and with pure emotions coming from your heart, I couldn’t block you out anymore or continue pretending you didn’t exist. It was like you infused your love into my heart with that song. It was that new wave of emotions that made me cry after two years of not being able to cry.”
I’m speechless. I had no idea she felt anything for me that early. Four years too late, but still a good start. The beautiful woman I thought I’d never have as my lover is now my wife, became mother of our dead child, and is willing to give me much more than I’d ever imagined I would have.
A little grin plays vaguely on her lips, a simple sign of utter contentment, reflecting the feeling spreading in my heart, warming up my body.
I love her quirks, superstitions, addictions, insecurities, and her weird logic. Her imperfections make her just the perfect woman for me. In every sense. Her complete love for me and her generosity move me and make me want to be a better person.
I don’t know what the reason was for the initial pull that caused a complete U-turn in my life, forcing me to leave my then girlfriend, but I’m grateful that I followed my instincts and pursued Taylor until she complied. Now, nearly six years after her explosive introduction into my life, she and I are hand in hand, heart against heart, and will be going against the hardships and failures, heartaches and pains together.
I have no doubt we will have the family we’ve always dreamed of. Maybe not the conventional way and not even very soon. But, I believe in our strength as a couple to grow and adapt to the challenges.
To forgive and move on.
To wish and let go.
As long as she allows a piece of me into her heart, we’ll be just fine.
***
Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead. —I shall feel it. - Victor Hugo
***
THE END
The Pursuit series continues with Lindsay Doheny’s romantic adventures with two irresistible bad boys who don’t accept no as an answer, while she has to pretend to be the girlfriend of Michael Hawkins, the wealthiest media tycoon in the nation. Taylor & Adam will have an appearance, too!
Click through to the next page to read an excerpt from Pleasure Extraordinaire (PURSUIT, 4).
PLEASURE EXTRAORDINAIRE
Iron slap.
That’s what they call me because I killed a woman with just the slap of my hand. It wasn’t my slap that killed her actually. It was the hook that pierced her head that took her life in a matter of seconds.
However, for some reason that crucial fact hasn’t registered in people’s minds. When I say people, I mean millions of them, because Valerie, the woman I killed, had put up a video recorder to have the entire world witness her barbarity. But, it turned out to be just the opposite of what she’d initially aimed for, and instead, recorded how the life got sucked out of her lungs.
As a result of the video spreading like wildfire, here I am, stopped almost every time I show up in public places by strangers asking for a picture of my glorious hand or an autograph drawn by the said hand. Some people go as far as asking me to
slap them. And not always on the face. I would gladly honor those idiots’ wishes; if I was sure my hand wouldn’t hurt.
Some YouTube guy made an amateur music video of the brief second of my hand hitting Valerie’s face, using a horrible electronic melody of his own creation as the background music, and that ridiculous video has gotten over fifty million viewers. That’s nothing compared to the two-hundred-twenty-five-million visitors the original video had received in its one-week life on YouTube, before it was banned due to breaking the website’s terms and regulations against violence.
It’s amazing how such a simple, self-defensive act made me famous nationwide. I’ve been approached by insurance companies, detergent manufacturers, and food chains to appear in their commercials. Hell, even a tow truck company wanted to use my hand as their logo. I’d think it was funny, only it wasn’t. I will never use the fame of the hand I killed someone with to make money.
Not that I feel what I did was wrong.
Having been haunted with guilt for the majority of my life for being the cause of my mother’s death—she died while giving birth to me—not even a drop of guilt has formed in my heart for unintentionally causing Valerie’s death. If I hadn’t killed her, she’d continue her killing spree and spread more pain to innocent people. Now that she’s gone forever, Taylor can relax.
It looks like Taylor is relaxing a tad too well, because she and her husband have recently started their high-pitched-moan concerts regularly every morning and evening. And I swear, if I have to stand one more of their love concerts, I’ll donate my ears to the closest hospital. It’s one thing witnessing your parents doing it and completely another to hear your own sister getting it wild and rough. Especially if you’re someone like me; who hasn’t had a sexual experience satisfying enough to make me lose myself, let alone moan as loudly as my sister. Because it’s not just disgusting, it’s arousing too; imagining the positions they must have their sweaty bodies in. She’s my sister and Adam is my brother-in-law, for fuck’s sake, and I don’t want to have naked images of my family roaming in my mind.