The Culmination (The Club Series Book 4)

by Lauren Rowe

  “I’ve got a surprise for you, baby. I’m dying to show it to you.”

  “The only surprise I want from you is your vagina. Surrounding my radioactive dick. Right now.” He grabs my ass.

  “Baby, please. It’ll take two minutes. Come on.” I tug on his hand and pull him toward the nursery.

  He exhales. “Are you serious?”

  “Totally. Please. You won’t regret it. Come on. It’s a huge surprise.”

  He exhales, resigned. He pulls out his phone and taps a button and the blaring song abruptly ceases. “It’s times like this I wonder if you love me at all.”

  I laugh. “I do, baby. With all my heart. Come on.” I grab his hand and lead him across the house toward the nursery—my stomach suddenly fluttering with a thousand butterflies. I’ve worked almost nonstop on this surprise for the last three days while Jonas has been out of town on his business trip, all the while fantasizing about the look on his face when he finally gets to see it.

  “Are you taking me to our bedroom?”

  I shake my head.

  “To the nursery?” Jonas says.

  I don’t reply, but that’s clearly the only other place this hallway leads.

  “Oh, hey, did you finally paint the mural?”

  “Stop trying to guess. Just go with the flow.”

  We continue walking down the hall.

  “Uh oh. Have you planned another grand gesture, Sarah Faraday?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What did I tell you about that?”

  “To leave the grand gestures and metaphors to you.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Some women just don’t listen, I guess.”

  “Bossy women.”

  We’re just outside the nursery door. I’m shaking with anticipation. “Ready?” I say, my hand on the doorknob.

  He shoots me a look that says, “Hurry the fuck up.”

  I take a deep breath, open the door, and lead the love of my life inside the room.

  Chapter 35

  Jonas

  I don’t know how my baby did it, but she did: I’m not thinking about my throbbing dick right now—not at all. I’m too consumed with the outrageous throbbing of my heart. I’m stunned. In complete awe at what my eyes are beholding. The lavender walls of the nursery are littered with twinkling stars. A giant moon and yellow sun, both of them smiling broadly, adorn two opposite corners of the walls—and an array of scenes and images are bursting with color across all four walls. I can’t focus on any one image; I’m just too overwhelmed by the enormity of it all.

  Sarah squeezes my hand and points up to where three phrases are scrolling across the tops of three contiguous walls: “Love is the joy of the good... the wonder of the wise... the amazement of the gods.”

  Goose bumps erupt all over my body.

  Sarah touches my forearm and strokes my tattoo bearing the same words. “We’re the greatest love story ever told,” she whispers.

  I nod, at a complete loss for words. I feel lightheaded.

  Sarah turns me around and points behind us, to the top of the fourth wall.

  “You are the divine original form of you,” the wall says. “And this family is the divine original form of love.”

  “Sarah,” I say softly, but there are no words for what I’m feeling.

  Sarah turns me back around and directs my attention to a painted scene on the wall in front of us.

  There’s a big, blue, shaggy monster with one enormous eye and a huge goofy grin, beating his massive chest. He’s standing on a flowery hilltop, next to a slightly smaller, yellow monster with long eyelashes, red lips, and a noticeably huge ass, while two little girl-monsters with colorful bows on the tops of their shaggy heads frolic in the flower fields around them.

  I look at Sarah, my mouth hanging open.

  “We’re a family of beasts,” Sarah says matter-of-factly. “And our leader is our beloved Daddy Beast. The one and only.”

  I shake my head, incapable of forming words.

  Sarah giggles and points to the next wall.

  There’s a muscled knight in shining armor, sitting gallantly atop a powerful white steed. A dark-haired queen in a flowing white dress sits behind the knight, squeezing him tightly, her cheek pressed against his broad back and little pink hearts flowing out of her chest. Two dark-haired princesses in flowing pink and yellow gowns ride alongside the knight, each one riding her own brown pony.

  “You’re my knight in shining armor, Jonas,” Sarah says.

  She points to the left and my eyes drift in the direction of her hand.

  There’s a cartoon version of me with ridiculous He-Man muscles, a whoosh of Prince Charming hair, and a chin that’s three times larger than the real thing (I hope). The cartoon version of me is shirtless and positioned in the classic thinker’s pose, a platinum bracelet on my wrist, holding a book with a big, red heart on its cover. Two little babies are nestled in my muscled arm, opposite the book in my hand, and a cartoon version of Sarah with flowing hair lies on the ground at my feet, gazing up at me adoringly, little hearts floating up from her chest and a prominent platinum bracelet on her wrist.

  “Sarah,” I say, completely overwhelmed. “This is amazing.”

  “You’re reading to me, love—you’re teaching me what true love is.”

  “Oh, baby. No. This one should be the other way around.”

  She shakes her head, grinning, and points again, to another wall.

  I look like me in this next painting—no more or less. No gleaming armor. No white horse. No Prince Charming hair. No overblown muscles. I’m wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans, smiling at the viewer, standing on a cloud. Sarah’s behind me, way off in the distance, on another cloud, gazing at me and holding a baby in each arm. Once again, little red hearts flow from her chest and float up into the starry sky.

  “Why am I standing on a cloud?” I ask. “Is this is the afterlife?”

  She laughs. “It’s the ideal realm. You’re the divine original, just the way you are.” She shrugs. “And you’re also the man of my dreams.”

  My chest tightens. This is too much. I move to kiss her, but she holds up her hand.

  “One more, mi amor. Almost done, I promise.” She points to the wall behind us and we turn around to face it.

  The wall is adorned with a towering, snow-capped mountain, topped at its highest peak by our little family. I’m holding Sarah’s hand and raising it to the sky in triumph, and our dark-haired little girls are standing on either side of us, holding each of our hands. Pink and red hearts float above all four of our heads and mingle with the stars.

  “We’re climbing and conquering together,” Sarah says reverently. She sighs. “It’s the culmination of human possibility, Jonas.”

  I’m literally dizzy for a second. I can’t wait another moment to make love to this beautiful, amazing woman.

  “Sarah,” I say. But there are no words.

  I pull her white dress above her head and she lifts her arms, her entire body quivering with anticipation.

  All I’ve been thinking about for six weeks is plunging my cock into Sarah and fucking the living shit out of her—and yet after what she’s just given me, I have no greater desire than to drop to my knees and worship at her altar. I throw Sarah’s dress to the floor, rip my own clothes off, and kneel before her.

  “Thank you,” I breathe, just before pulling her into my mouth.

  This is the first time in two weeks I’ve tasted Sarah’s natural sweetness not mingled with the taste of blood, and I have to admit, it’s refreshing to get back to basics. Her scent is intoxicating; her taste is divine; and her clit is hard and slippery and throbbing under my tongue, just the way I like it. I’m instantly fully aroused.

  After a few minutes of making love to her with just my mouth and tongue, I slide my fingers deep inside her and find that bundle of nerves I love so much. But this time, when I shift my fingers the way Sam the Squirt-Master instructed, holy fuck, I feel someth
ing I’ve never noticed before—the “trip-chord” Sam told me about. It’s right there. Holy shit. It’s smack in the middle of Sarah’s G-spot, exactly where that little bastard said it’d be. I can’t believe it. How did I not understand what I was feeling before? How did I not understand its significance?

  I clamp my two fingers tightly around that little chord and stroke her a few times, and, I’ll be damned, I feel her respond exactly the way he explained: she’s enlarging. I do it again. And again. And again. Until I hear a whooshing sound deep inside her, exactly the way Sam described it. Well, I’ll be damned. The guy wasn’t full of shit, after all.

  I shift my fingers inside and up and down, and then I stroke downward with purpose, and then downward again, like I’m culling toothpaste out of a near-empty tube—exactly the way Sam told me to do it, and... Boom. All of a sudden, warm liquid bursts out of Sarah’s pussy and rains on me like someone turned on a faucet.

  “Oh my God, Jonas!” Sarah shrieks, leaping back. “Holy shit! Oh my God! Did I just pee on you?”

  I’m laughing with glee. “No, baby,” I say. “You squirted.” I lick my lips and I’m elated to discover they’re covered in Sarah’s cum. “You did it.”

  “I did what?” she screams. “What the fuck did you just do to me?”

  “I made you squirt, baby.” I grin at her. “All over my face.” I lick my lips again and laugh. “That was fucking amazing.”

  There’s a long pause as Sarah processes what just happened.

  “How’d it feel?” I ask.

  “Like you zapped me with a Taser gun inside my cooch.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “No, not particularly.”

  “It didn’t feel good?”

  “Good would not be the word for what just happened to me.”

  “Not good at all?”

  “You touched a certain spot and I lost complete control of my... I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I lost control of my bladder, only it wasn’t my bladder. It was uncomfortable, and then the pressure released. But it wasn’t... orgasmic. It just... happened. Like you forced it.”

  “You wanna do it again?”

  “No. I wanna just, you know, get off. Like usual. With a real orgasm.” Her chest is heaving. Her eyes are wild. “Goddammit, Jonas. You just made me squirt all over the floor of my babies’ nursery!”

  I burst out laughing.

  “It’s not funny! Now I’m gonna have to get the carpets cleaned before the babies come home!”

  That makes me laugh even harder.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because you’re funny.”

  “I’m not funny. This is not funny. Every goddamned time I come into this room from here on out, I’m gonna think about how I squirted all over my babies’ carpet.”

  I’m laughing so hard, I can barely stand upright. I hold my sides, trying to quell the pain of my laughter, but I can’t.

  “Jonas, this isn’t funny. What the hell did you do to me? Did you zap me with some sort of zapper?” She grabs my empty hands and scrutinizes them.

  Oh man. I can’t stop laughing. She thinks I’m hiding some kind of Taser in my palm?

  She looks baffled by my open, bare hands.

  “So awesome, baby,” I say, regaining a modicum of control. “So fucking hot.”

  “But it didn’t feel good. It just felt... unavoidable. Like I’m a vending machine and you pressed the button for Ding Dongs and out they came.”

  “Let’s do it again.”

  “What? No.”

  My hard-on is massive. “Come on, baby. Let’s do it.”

  “No,” she says again. She looks anxious. “Are you sure I didn’t pee?”

  “It’s not pee. Trust me.” I run my finger through a swath of cum on the carpet and stick it in my mouth. “Not pee.”

  She gets down on her hands and knees and sniffs the wet stain on the carpet.

  “Taste it,” I say. “It’s not pee.”

  She slowly dips her finger into a streak of wetness and sticks it in her mouth with trepidation. She makes a face like, “Could use a little more salt,” but then she looks back up at me and grimaces. “God, Jonas. It’s dripping all over your face.”

  I lick my lips again. “It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” I touch my hard-on and begin stroking it. “So hot. Come on, baby. Let’s do it again.”

  “Wow, you really liked that, huh?”

  I nod, licking my lips and stroking my shaft.

  “Oh,” she says, her eyelids suddenly heavy. She stands up and licks my face, making my cock lurch. “Your enthusiasm is contagious.”

  “You’re so fucking hot. Let’s do it again.” She takes over stroking my erection for a moment, and my legs buckle. “Oh my God, baby. I’m gonna come all over your hand if you keep doing that.”

  She stops, clearly invested in keeping me hard for her.

  “Do you find it at all strange we’re doing this in the babies’ room?” she asks.

  “Not at all.”

  She laughs. “We’re so depraved.”

  “I like us.”

  “Me, too.” She sighs. “Okay. One more time. But if it’s not pleasurable, then that’s it—we move on.”

  I whoop in celebration. “Okay, lie down, woman. It’s squirtin’ time—which shall be followed immediately by bonin’ time.” I hoot to the ceiling.

  She laughs and lies down.

  “Hang on.” I leave the room and quickly return with towels from across the hall. She lifts her hips, anticipating my request, and I lay the towels underneath her. “You ready to shoot cum all over me, baby?”

  She makes a face. “Please don’t phrase it that way. That’s so gross.”

  “It’s not gross. You’ve got to stop telling yourself that. Nothing’s gross. It’s all very, very good. And very, very natural. Stop being negative. You’re training your brain to cast judgment.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Prude.”

  “I’m not a prude.”

  “You are. I don’t know why, but you are. But we’re gonna retrain you; don’t you worry, my precious baby.”

  She sighs.

  “Okay, baby, relax.” I touch between her legs and she tenses. “Just relax, baby.”

  “I’m nervous. It felt weird.”

  “Shh. Don’t think. Just focus on how good my fingers are making you feel.” I kiss her again, deeply, and her body begins responding the way it always does.

  I continue stroking her, kissing her all the while, and then, when I feel her arousal spiking, I go in with my middle and ring fingers, all the way, exactly the way Sam instructed, and feel around with my fingertips. Holy fucking shit. There it is again, right in between my fingers—that little chord behind her G-spot. My cock lurches. Why haven’t I ever noticed this specific spot inside her before—or what to do with it? Well, regardless, I know exactly what to do with it now.

  I stroke her in a downward motion, then move my fingers inside and up, something I wouldn’t have thought to do in a million years if I hadn’t heard about it from Sam the Squirt Guru—and I keep on stroking it, over and over, downward, downward, then inside and up, until I hear a subtle whooshing sound inside her again. Well, holy fuck. Amazing. It’s like fucking clockwork. I pull that little gland in a firm downward motion, and ... Boom.

  She squirts all over my hand like a geyser—way more than Carla did in Sam’s video. Damn.

  “Jesus!” Sarah screams. “What the fuck?” She scrambles up to a sitting position. “How do you keep doing that?” Her eyes are bugging out.

  “Holy fuck, baby.” I laugh with glee. “You’re a squirter!”

  “But...” She looks at me, incredulous. “What?”

  “You just squirted again.”

  “Are you sure it’s not pee?”

  I lick my hand. “Not pee. Definitely cum.” I offer her my hand, and when she licks my finger my cock lurches.

  She looks aghast. “Tha
t’s squirting? But it didn’t even feel good. It just felt like... I dunno. It wasn’t ecstasy, Jonas. There wasn’t enough ramp-up. It was like you pressed a button on a vending machine and a big ol’ bag of Doritos popped out.” She squints at me. “Why are you grinning like that?”

  “Because you’re a squirter, baby.” I let out a long, evil, villain-laugh and lick a giant gob of cum off my knuckles.

  “That can’t be all there is to it. You just press some weird button inside me and a package of Ding Dongs pops out? It’s so weird.”

  I laugh. “Who cares if it’s weird? This is a huge breakthrough—fucking fantastic.”

  “Why is it a breakthrough? You pushed a button. I didn’t do anything.”

  “But now you know you can—you know how it feels. We’ve just primed your pump—taught your body what to do. And now that your body knows what to do, it will—all on its own. And when it finally does it on its own, it’s gonna feel amazing for you. That’s how we’re gonna achieve your greatest ecstasy, ever.”

  She looks apprehensive.

  “God, that was hot,” I say.

  “Maybe for you. Next time, let me get there myself,” she says. “Okay? I didn’t like feeling out of control like that.”

  I laugh.

  “I’m serious. Promise you won’t press the button for Ding Dongs next time. Let me get there organically, if it’s meant to be.”

  I chuckle. “Okay, baby. Next time won’t be Doritos and Ding Dongs. It’ll be the culmination of the highest form of pleasure your body has ever experienced. Oh man, I can’t wait to see you do it all on your own. It’s gonna be glorious.”

  “Why do you look like Dr. Evil right now?”

  “Because I’m thinking evil thoughts,” I say, pushing her back onto the floor.

  “Promise you won’t do it like that again. Promise you’ll let it happen naturally if it’s meant to be.”

  “I promise. Now ssh. Watching all that cum spurting out of you was so fucking hot, I’m about to blow.”

  “But wait, first tell me how the heck you figured out how to—”

  “Ssh, woman. No more talking. It’s bonin’ time. It’s been six goddamned weeks and my boner says it’s time to effing all-caps bone.”