To Have and To Hold

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  a gun again.

  Beside her, Dave stirred. “Mary?”

  It took her a moment to realize the loud boom she heard was the thunder rumbling outside.

  She looked out the closed window and heard rain hitting the window pane, fol owed by a flash

  of light and another loud boom. Gasping again, she inched closer to Dave. “Why does it have

  to be so loud?”

  He sat up next to her and pul ed her into his arms. “Do you want me to light the lamp?”

  She instinctively wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Aren’t the

  children afraid?”

  Chuckling, he ran his hand up and down her back. “No. They sleep right through it.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Who could sleep through this racket?

  “They’re used to it. They were born here. You weren’t. I think that makes a difference.”

  “Were you born here?” she asked, noting how calm he was as another boom of thunder shook

  the house.

  “No, but they never bothered me.”

  “I suppose that’s because you’re a man.”

  “Probably.” He brushed her hair from her face and asked, “Would you like me to check on the

  children, to make sure they’re alright?”

  “Would you?”

  “Of course.”

  Relieved since she couldn’t bring herself to leave the bed, she pul ed the sheets up to her chin

  as he slid out of bed to walk across the room. Her eyes were slow to pick up his silhouette,

  and the flash of lightning revealed that he wore his underwear. He reached the dresser and

  struck a match by the lamp before he lit it. She couldn’t help but be curious about his body,

  particularly what made them different from her. The most obvious difference was his lack of

  breasts. He had a wel -toned, broad chest. But what was his underwear hiding? As he

  retrieved his pants, she noted the bulge in his underwear and thought she didn’t have a similar

  bulge. So that was another difference.

  Another rumble of thunder vibrated through the house, and she forgot al about her silent

  inquiry. Now she understood why she was afraid of thunderstorms at night. They seemed

  much more menacing when it was dark out, with the wind thrashing about, rain pelting the

  house, lightning flashing, and thunder going off like a shot from a gun. She could think of no

  other way to describe the thunder when it was that intense.

  Dave finished buttoning his pants and picked up the lamp. “Are you going to be alright by

  yourself?”

  “You’re coming right back, aren’t you?” she asked, gripping the sheets.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’l be fine.”

  He nodded and left the room, taking the light with him. The darkness covered her once more,

  and she anxiously scanned the room. She couldn’t help but make out shapes in the shadows,

  and even if the lightning assured her nothing was there, the thunder that fol owed offered no

  comfort. She nearly cried with relief when he returned.

  “They’re asleep,” Dave said and closed the door. “You want me to keep the light on?”

  She nodded. “Do you mind?”

  With a smile, he set the kerosene lamp on the dresser. “No. It’s here in case we need it.”

  “Thank you, Dave.” Now that he returned and the light created a soft glow in the room, she

  didn’t mind the thunder so much.

  He took off his pants and placed them over the back of the smal chair in the corner of the room

  before he went back to the bed. She welcomed his presence which had become familiar over

  the past couple of weeks.

  “Do you think you can go back to sleep?” he asked as he encouraged her to lie back down.

  She fol owed his lead and returned to the safety of his arms, resting her head on his chest. He

  kissed the top of her head and set one hand on her hip while his other hand rested against his

  side. Again, her gaze went to his underwear. He didn’t wear much of anything in bed, and

  since the room was lit enough and he couldn’t see her studying him, she did so without the

  embarrassment she would have had otherwise. She noted the outline of the bulge and, if she

  was seeing right, it lengthened.

  She debated whether or not to satisfy her curiosity by lifting the underwear so she could see

  what was underneath. On its own accord, her hand inched a bit down his chest. She stopped

  and waited to see if he’d noticed. His breathing remained steady. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so

  curious or even so bold as to lower her hand again, but it felt natural to be with him like this.

  She couldn’t explain it, and maybe she didn’t have to. After al , they were married and had

  been together in bed many times before. And it seemed to her that something instinctive

  wanted to be with him in a more intimate way.

  Her fingers traced his skin, lightly brushing the fine hairs on his chest and briefly circling his

  navel. They stopped again at the waistband of his underwear. Her heart raced, but this time it

  wasn’t because of the thunder stil rumbling in the sky. Did she dare slide her hand beneath the

  underwear?

  He squeezed her hip and murmured, “Keep going,” into her hair.

  Her cheeks warmed. It was sil y that she assumed he didn’t know what she was doing. She

  wondered if she made it a habit of doing this. It seemed like she did since she wasn’t as

  nervous as she thought she might be if they’d never been together as man and wife. She

  hesitated to proceed but decided her curiosity was greater than her shyness.

  Her fingers slipped under the waistband, and she felt the silky tip of his erection. She traced it,

  noting the bead of moisture which came from the slit. She found that to be a curious thing but

  decided to press on in her exploration. Her fingers continued further down his hard thickness.

  Yes, just as she thought, she’d touched him like this before. She didn’t recal anything specific,

  but this was both exciting and comfortable at the same time.

  He let out a low moan and shifted so that he could pul his underwear off. In the light, she was

  able to get a good look at him and tried to recal seeing his arousal before. But no such

  memory came to mind. She wrapped her hand around it, and sensing that he’d enjoy it, she

  stroked him from the base to the tip with enough pressure to make him squirm in pleasure.

  Finding his reaction intriguing, she stroked him again and then again until she established a

  rhythm she somehow knew he liked.

  His hand went over hers, an action that surprised her since he was enjoying what she was

  doing, if she could judge his pleasure based on soft moans and his hips shifting in time with her

  actions. Her eyes met his, and through his heavy breathing, he whispered, “There’s no sense in

  finishing until you receive your due pleasure.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, he rol ed onto his side so he was facing her. He

  brought his hand up to her cheek and cupped the side of her face. Leaning forward, he kissed

  her, his lips a mere whisper on hers. And in that instant a memory did come to her, something

  concrete, something she could hold onto. She recal ed sewing a pil ow out of a flour sack, the

  smel of earth, the feeling of apprehension and joy… She suspected it had something to do

  with Dave, and now she knew it did. It was their wedding night, the first time he made love to

  her, and the specific memory w
as of her waiting for him to come to bed.

  She thought to tel him she remembered that moment of waiting for him in their sod house and

  how much she was in awe of him and marveled at his kindness toward her. But he pul ed away

  from her so he could remove her nightshirt. Then he returned his mouth to hers and deepened

  the kiss, his tongue tracing her lower lip until she parted her mouth for him.

  The dominating emotion swirling around her was love. He loved her. To him, she was the most

  beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She recal ed bits and pieces of the times they’d made love.

  Wishing to be with him, to share in the marital bed and feel loved and beautiful again, she

  wrapped her arms around him and rol ed onto her back so he was on top of her.

  His mouth left hers, and he left a trail of kisses along her jawbone and then to her ear where he

  whispered how much he loved her. She smiled and ran her hands down his back, taking note

  of how his skin felt beneath her fingers. She was al -too-aware of his arousal which pressed

  into the curls between her legs and how good her sensitive nub felt as his arousal shifted

  against it. She bit her lower lip and moaned. She wanted more of this, so she spread her legs

  and moved her hips so that his erection was stroking her.

  “Not too fast,” he whispered, shifting away from her so that her intimate contact with him was

  lost.

  “I need you,” she murmured and tried to pul him back to her.

  “Don’t worry. It’l happen.”

  She groaned, partly in irritation and partly in pleasure when she realized he was going to

  prolong this so when her release came, it would be that much better. He lowered his head to

  her breasts as he brought his hand to the area between her legs. While he teased the flesh at

  her entrance, his tongue caressed one of her erect nipples. Two of his fingers entered her.

  She shivered in delight and squeezed his biceps, deciding he was right and they shouldn’t rush

  it. Closing her eyes, she gave into the urge to feel everything he was doing to her—every kiss,

  every brush of the tongue, every stroke of his fingers.

  On their own accord, her hips moved to aid the mounting pleasure in her core, encouraging him

  to continue. His mouth left one breast and went to the other, once again teasing her nipple and

  sending tingles of delight traveling up and down her spine. Her flesh tightened around his

  fingers as he continued to caress her core. When his mouth left her other breast, she assumed

  he was going to bring his mouth to hers, but he didn’t.

  He went lower on her body until his tongue found her sensitive nub. She moaned, her back

  arching in response to his tongue which worked in circular motions on her. His fingers continued

  their work inside her, and this time he didn’t stop when she came near the peak. Instead, he

  kept going, and she was hardly aware of her whimpers. When she thought she couldn’t take it

  anymore, her climax came. Her body shuddered in response as waves of pleasure came

  crashing down on her. It seemed she spent almost a ful minute savoring each wave as it

  lessened in intensity as he gently stroked her with his fingers and tongue. When she was ful y

  satisfied, his fingers slid out of her and he brought his mouth back to hers to kiss her.

  She reached between them and brought his erection into her, her flesh closing in around him,

  welcoming him into her. He rocked his hips, his movements starting out slow. She worked with

  him, matching his pace and wrapping her legs around his waist to pul him in deeper.

  He kissed her cheek and then her neck. She sighed in pleasure and ran her hands to his waist,

  noting his muscles as they strained with each thrust he made. His actions grew faster, more

  demanding, and she strived with him, glad he was receiving pleasure from her as she had from

  him. When he climaxed, he grew taut and groaned. He throbbed inside her, and when he

  relaxed, she held him close to her, enjoying the way their hearts beat in unison.

  He remained inside her for a few minutes, taking his time to kiss her and brush her hair from

  her face. Smiling at her, he said, “I think the thunderstorm is over,” he said.

  “Is it?” She turned her head to the window and realized he was right.

  “I’l be right back.” He kissed her before he got out of the bed.

  She watched him as he opened the window. The breeze drifted into the room, the smel of rain

  stil in the air.

  “Do you want the light on or off?” he asked her.

  “Off.”

  As he went to the dresser, she watched him, intrigued by his naked body and disappointed

  when he turned down the knob on the lamp so that the room was, once again, plunged into

  darkness. She wished she could spend al night feasting her eyes on him. He had a

  wonderful y masculine beauty. He returned to the bed and she snuggled into his arms. After he

  kissed the top of her head, she closed her eyes and soon fel asleep.

  Chapter Six

  When Mary woke up the next morning, she was aware of the gentle breeze coming in through

  the open window. She smiled and snuggled closer to Dave. Opening her eyes, she saw that it

  was almost time to get up for the day. Disappointed that she’d be leaving her husband’s warm

  embrace soon, she closed her eyes and tried to savor every moment while she had it.

  To her surprise, soft lips brushed her cheek. “Morning,” Dave murmured in her ear.

  Tingles of delight raced up and down her spine. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him

  grinning at her in the early morning light. She returned his smile. “Morning.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her.

  Content, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. Her body throbbed from

  the memory of their night of passion. It was a shame she couldn’t spend al day in bed with

  him.

  “I love thunderstorms when they happen at night,” he whispered before he brought his lips to

  her ear.

  Aware of the way his hand cupped her bare breast, she softly asked, “You do?”

  “Yes.” Lifting his head, he made eye contact with her and gave her the most deliciously wicked

  grin she’d ever seen. “We end up making love.”

  “We do?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s the best way to distract you so you don’t think about the loud

  thunder anymore.”

  Giggling, she shifted her body closer to his, purposely rubbing his erection. “Wel , since there’s

  no storm now, I suppose I don’t need distracting then, do I?”

  He let out a low growl and brought his mouth back to hers. She settled into the bed and urged

  him to rol on top of her, eager to make love to him once more. He obliged her, and their

  lovemaking was leisurely as they took their time to enjoy each other. Afterwards, he remained

  inside her, stil kissing her on the lips and cheeks.

  She sighed, content. Marrying him was a smart move on her part. Wondering how they met,

  she got ready to ask him when Rachel cal ed out for her from her bedroom.

  Dave pul ed out of her and rol ed off the bed to get dressed, and she quickly got out of bed so

  she could slip into her clothes. “At least they let us make love this morning,” he said as he

  buttoned his shirt.

  She glanced at him as she brushed her hair. “They never come in here while we’re—” she

  motioned to the bed—“you know…”

&nb
sp; “I lock the door, so they can’t. Rachel won’t leave her crib until you get her, but Isaac’s old

  enough to get out of bed when he gets up.”

  She nodded, relieved the children didn’t ever catch them in bed together, and left the room as

  she tucked her hair into a bun. As she entered Rachel’s room, she saw the girl was sitting up in

  the crib and laughing as she inspected her fingers. With a smile, Mary rested her arms on the

  crib and chuckled. “I don’t know what you find so interesting about your fingers.”

  Looking up at her mother, she wiggled her fingers and laughed harder.

  Amused, Mary smiled and picked her daughter up. Now familiar with the routine around the

  house, she got Rachel ready for the day and then got Isaac up. Since Isaac wanted to join his

  father out in the barn, it was just her and Rachel as she made breakfast. She actual y

  preferred this since it seemed to her that Rachel played quietly more often if Isaac wasn’t there

  to distract her. Isaac was a good boy, but he had a tendency to get bored easily if there was

  nothing to do. Thankful y, he’d be five next month, which meant he was old enough to take on

  the simpler chores.

  Once breakfast was ready, she went out to the porch and got ready to ring the cowbel when

  Dave came out of the barn with Isaac on his shoulders. He held Isaac’s foot with one hand and

  a pail of milk with the other. She grinned. It was fun to watch the two together. She returned

  to the kitchen and put the cowbel on the shelf just in time to see Rachel pul ing on the

  tablecloth. Running over to her daughter, she stopped her before the plate nearest her fel off

  the table.

  “And here I thought you knew better,” Mary admonished while she put Rachel in the highchair.

  “You didn’t do that before.”

  “Drink, Ma,” Rachel said and held her hands out.

  “Is that what you were trying to get? Some water?” She went over to the table where she’d

  set the cups and poured water into Rachel’s. “Next time, ask me for a cup before you try to get

  it off the table yourself.”

  Rachel took the cup and drank from it.

  “You real y were thirsty, weren’t you?” She needed to remember to offer Rachel water before

  she started making breakfast in the future.

  Dave and Isaac came into the dining room, and Dave set the pail of milk on the worktable as he