Learning to Love Again

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Learning to Love Again Page 14

by Cynthia P. O'Neill


  He held onto me tightly as he crawled up onto the center of the bed before laying me down against the rose petals. My hands drifted towards his boxers, pulling down on the waistband and then kicking them off using a joint effort with my feet and his legs.

  One hand finally drifted down to remove one of my heels and then the other, dropping them onto the floor. His mouth started kissing my inner thigh and working its way up my torso until he was hovering over my breasts. He flipped down the lace on one side, my breast lifted and ready for his taking. His mouth latched on, sucking my breast into his mouth as his tongue teased my nipple to a fine hardened point, while his other hand freed my other breast and rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing and pinching, sending a rush of moisture to my crotch.

  I’d thought our honeymoon night would feel like any other time we made love, but it wasn’t anywhere close. The level of intensity, heat, and excitement was through the roof. It felt hotter than the first time we’d made love. And if I thought about it, this was the first time I’d make love to Garrett as my husband.

  He licked his way up to my mouth. I could feel him center his cock over my opening as his mouth pressed lightly against mine. Both of his hands linked with mine, holding them above my head as his hardness entered me with one push forward, his mouth covering mine completely, sliding his tongue in to possess every inch of me.

  I felt completely possessed by his love as we both groaned in passion. He began to slowly move inside me, my hips tilting to take him in deeper, beginning to match his thrusts. I didn’t want this moment to end, and apparently he didn’t, either. He took his time setting a slow pace, which caused me to build slowly. I was balancing on the edge of reason, just before going insane from the sensual passion he was creating.

  “Please!” I begged.

  “Please, what, my darling wife?” he teased as his pace continued.

  “I need you.”

  His rhythm didn’t falter as he lifted up on his elbows, our hands still entwined. “You have me, my love.”

  “Take me harder, sweetheart, I beg you. I need to feel you take every inch of me and leave me wanting more.” My words were coming out in pants as he increased his tempo.

  “Yes!” I cried out.

  Garrett shifted to a pounding beat, his breathing increasing as my hips matched his every thrust. “Look me in the eyes as you come,” he demanded. “I want to see my lovely wife enjoying our honeymoon night, knowing I’m the only one who can ever bring her such pleasure.”

  That’s all it took for my walls to tighten, latching onto him, drawing him in deeper, where we proceeded to climax together, feeling him release his seed deep into my center.

  He ground into me a couple more times before holding in place, cherishing our encounter. My legs wrapped around him to hold him to me, not wanting to give up this special moment. Our lips met in gentle caresses; we both seemed to share the same sentiment.

  “God, I love you so much,” I breathed.

  After what felt like an eternity, we finally pulled ourselves apart long enough to clean up and have Garrett remove the rest of his “gift wrap,” a.k.a. the remains of my lingerie. We held each other tightly throughout the night, making love three more times before finally succumbing to slumber as the gentle purr of the engines and the rock of the boat brought us to a restful sleep.

  “We’re in the Virgin Islands?!” Laurel sounded shocked when I’d broken down at breakfast, telling her we were due to dock at Virgin Gorda that afternoon.

  Deidre had created a nice spread so we could enjoy our first breakfast as husband and wife in bed. I’d made it through two pastries worth of badgering before I gave in and spilled our destination.

  I gently caressed the side of Laurel’s smiling face. “I know you had your heart set on Italy with a food and wine tour, but it’s winter there now, which isn’t very conducive to a romantic honeymoon. Plus, while you’d be able to enjoy the food and scenery, you’d miss out on their exquisite wines. We can go on a family tour, or a private one, through Italy once the twins are born, you have my word.”

  She let go of the sheet she was holding around her and grabbed my face, bringing it in for a languorous kiss. “The idea of Italy is nice, but anywhere spent with you, Garrett, will be burned into my memory for all eternity.”

  I laughed a little. “I’m glad you feel that way. I wanted to take you to warmer climates for our honeymoon and not risk the health of you or our babies. We’ll be island hopping for the next few days and then taking a friend of mine’s private jet to another destination.”

  I watched as she began bouncing up and down in the bed, which I didn’t mind, focusing on the sway of her breasts, but it was driving me wild with desire to have her again. I don’t think I will ever get my fill of my forever love.

  She stopped for a moment, pointing at the miniscule bulge of her belly. “You seriously want to see this in a bathing suit?”

  I wiggled my eyebrows and smiled my most lascivious smile. “I’d rather see you naked, but I won’t have anyone else looking at my wife that way. Your beauty is for my eyes only!” To drive the point home, I lifted the sheets and looked up and down the entire length of her body and growled, “Mine!”

  She swatted her hand at me, pulling the covers back over her. “You’re nothing more than a caveman,” she teased.

  “Damn, right! Me husband, you wife! MINE!” I pushed her back on the bed, kissing her senseless, but one kiss led to another and I was thankful that I’d moved the tray to the floor as our hands and lips took over and we were lost for the next few hours, victims of intense sexual desire.

  Virgin Gorda was beautiful, feeling more like a warm spring or early summer day, a little more humid than Florida, but close in temperature. Thompson has secured us a car and drove us around town with Dillon, where we checked out a few shops and tourist spots.

  “If I don’t bring some small trinket back to Grace, she’ll have my hide,” Laurel commented as we toured the shops. “She’s always wanted to go to the Virgin Islands.”

  We’d walked hand in hand for several blocks, when the smell of some local food got my attention. It was already after lunchtime and we needed somewhere to eat; with all the walking we’d done, Laurel’s sugar levels were low. Dillon ran ahead and secured us a table at one of the local restaurants, right on the water. While we ordered our meals, I had Dillon grab some food for the entire crew and run it back to the yacht before he returned and ate with Thompson nearby.

  It’d been a while since I’d had curried lamb with coconut rice, but it was delicious. Laurel couldn’t believe the various options of food inspired by Indian, Caribbean, Spanish, and other cultures. The Virgin Islands were an amazing melting pot, especially when it came to cuisine.

  “I may not be able to take you on a food and wine tour through Italy, but I can take you on a food tour throughout some of the world.”

  I loved the look on her face, full of surprise and delight. It was wonderful to see her relaxing and not putting any care towards Chase or Walt Peterson.

  After three days touring Virgin Gorda, St. Croix, and then down to the West Indies and St. Lucia, we were going to pick up my friend’s private jet at George Charles Airport. Laurel didn’t like that we’d be traveling under false names and using burner phones so we couldn’t be traced, but it was a must.

  “What do you mean, I have to pretend I’m Mrs. Collins? I only want to be Mrs. Waters!” she pouted, excited to use her new name.

  I was sitting on the couch in the galley and pulled her into my lap. “If you haven’t noticed, darling, I’ve been paying with a credit card that has my alias on it. It comes out of a reserve fund that I have set aside under the name Mitchell Collins, who also ‘owns’ the beach house. We don’t want to leave a trail for the media or the Petersons to follow. I wanted to enjoy my time with you without having to constantly look over our shoulders and wonder what’s next.”

  She relaxed her head against my shoulder. “
I’m sorry. I guess I’m not used to having to thwart others. I’m usually pretty boring.” She sighed and then tensed up. “Is there any word from either Chase or the media?”

  I wanted to keep her in the dark on things, but I knew honesty was the only way I could guarantee Laurel never running from me. I wrapped one arm around her shoulders and one arm around her legs and held her as tight as I could.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” She’d already caught on, as I expected. My girl was a smart cookie.

  “Apparently our videographer, despite the NDA he signed, sold a small portion of the video to the media. We have requested that our photographer give only approved photos to People magazine for an exclusive story and spread. We were set to do an interview with them once we returned from our honeymoon.”

  “So everyone knows about everything?” Her voice was shaking, along with the rest of her body. “Can we sue him?”

  I rubbed my hands up and down her back for reassurance. “No. We were able to buy back most of the copies and have filed a lawsuit against the videographer. Only one group, TMZ, persisted, but their angle is so far from the truth it’s ridiculous.”

  She lifted her head off my shoulders and I could see the tears pouring down her cheeks. “What angle is that?”

  I wiped the tears away and caressed the side of her face with my hand. “That you forced me into marriage by getting pregnant. Though most are calling the pregnancy falsified, because no one will validate their claims.”

  Her lips quivered. “Is that how you feel, that I trapped you?”

  I smiled and laughed, leaning forward to give her a kiss on the lips and pull her into a hug. “If you recall the timing, my love, I asked you to marry me before we found out that you were pregnant. I wanted you as my wife long before I asked, I just had to work up the courage. I was worried you’d dismiss me or I’d make you run.” I breathed in her heavenly scent before continuing. “My lawyers and public relations crew are handling things. I wish you didn’t have to deal with this aspect of my life. That’s why I hid as Mr. Andrews for so long, not wanting to admit who I really was. I didn’t want to bring you into this mess, but I couldn’t imagine getting through life without you; we are forever part of one another.”

  “So they can make this all go away?” she questioned, concern etched on her face.

  I nodded. “They’ll receive a statement from me. I already spoke to my lawyer and told him what to put down. He’ll be faxing over the final approval for me to review before it goes to press. It should be here right before we leave, so you can take a look at it too.”

  The fax came shortly after we’d talked. We’d both sat down to review it as Thompson and Dillon readied a vehicle to take us to the airport. In essence, it was short and to the point, my words read:

  The elusive G.A. Waters, whom we now know is also Garrett Andrews, tied the knot with Miss Laurel Hart in a very private ceremony consisting of only immediate family and friends over the Thanksgiving holiday. The ceremony was held at sunset on one of the local beaches, right outside a friend’s personal estate, where a reception soon followed. The happy couple are enjoying a clandestine honeymoon.

  There are rumors that Mrs. Waters is expecting or forced Mr. Waters into marriage via pregnancy. The happy couple would like to set the record straight that they were engaged prior to learning Mrs. Waters carried the future heir to Waters Medical Industries. They are both ecstatic about their bundle of joy.

  I watched as Laurel read, and re-read, the press release. “If there’s something you don’t like, we can cross through and fix it now,” I assured her. “Once we return home, we’ll sit down with People magazine and give a full interview, with approved wedding photos and more insight into our relationship.”

  Laurel looked up from the paper. “Why do we have to give them anything? Can’t we just have our privacy?”

  I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to me, cradling her head under my chin. “I wish we could, darling, I really do. But if we don’t give them something, the media tends to run with rumors and create a bunch of crap to feed people’s desire to know, even if it’s nothing but lies.” I kissed her forehead and squeezed her in a hug. “Wouldn’t you rather they know the truth than fabricate their version of it?”

  She pulled back and looked up at me. “When you put it that way, I guess so.” She sighed. “I don’t particularly like everyone knowing everything about us, but maybe this will stop the trash talk and allow us some privacy. Maybe your theory about Chase will prove true. If he knows we’re married and he doesn’t have a chance, hopefully that will be enough of a deterrent.”

  I didn’t like seeing my bride unhappy or sad, so I suggested we sign, quickly fax back the press release, and move onto our next honeymoon location. I wanted to see her perk up a bit.

  We’d been at our new paradise on earth for close to a week now. Garrett, his staff, and the private island resort he’d rented out catered to every one of our desires, cravings, or needs, and lately that was a good thing. The morning sickness started to subside to the point I was able to back off, almost entirely, on my medication and my appetite and the food cravings had kicked in.

  We were situated along one of the archipelago islands of the Seychelles, situated in the Indian Ocean, off the coast of Africa. I thought the Caribbean had been exotic, with its crystal clear waters, but the Seychelles were nirvana.

  The islands were so close to one another that if our cook or butler didn’t have the dish I was craving, they could easily take a boat across the waterway to one of the many restaurants on the surrounding islands to find what I was looking for. No request was too big or too small, in their book.

  It was no surprise that our first few days here were mainly spent on the beach or in the bedroom. Garrett was insatiable and starting to push my boundaries and open me up to new experiences. He’d recently asked if I meant it when I said I wanted him to take every part of me. His eyes were all alight with wonder, and lately, he kept rimming my backdoor with his finger, which made our loving more intense.

  I’d finally given in to the idea of anal play and discovered, to my surprise, or maybe horror, that he’d brought along a set of anal plugs. I’d enjoyed the extra short appendage he’d used back in the theatre room only a couple months back because it was thin and enhanced our play without filling me to bursting, but I was a little nervous to move on from there. I trusted my husband with my body, though, and he seemed to know how to play me, showing me the ultimate of orgasms. Plus, I had to admit, I think I was becoming a little insatiable myself with all the new hormones running through me and increasing my libido. The idea of being tied up with a few restraints was now a major turn on, rather than a scare.

  Yesterday, he’d eaten out my pussy as he worked in a small butt plug, designed to stretch my muscles and loosen them up. He said I was so tight I’d need to gradually work my way up a few hours at a time, a couple times each day. He threatened to spank my behind if I tried to take it out on my own. The threat of his brightening my bottom gave me goosebumps and sent desire coursing through me, but I didn’t want to seem too eager, so I dealt with the plug. For now.

  I was thankful the plug I was wearing was small and the base easily hidden under my clothes, since I wore it when we hiked to the top of one natural preserve and had a beautiful view of the surrounding islands and the blue pristine waters.

  I’d gotten excited about seeing a whale shark, something I’d only heard about on television, swimming off in the distance. They were one of the few sharks you could swim with, since they mainly fed on plankton.

  Every day was something new and exciting. Part of me never wanted to return to real life.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Garrett whispered in my ear as his lips trailed soft kisses across my bare shoulders. I don’t know why we even bothered to pack sleeping attire, since we’d yet to use any.

  His hands traced all over my body, stopping only when he reached
the slowly growing bump at my stomach. He leaned down, kissing my stomach, and said, “You two behave in there and keep mommy feeling good. We both can’t wait to meet you, but you have a little over five months to go.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Garrett looked up with puzzlement on his face. “What’s so funny, love?”

  “You are! They aren’t even born yet and they have their daddy wrapped around their little fingers.”

  He kissed his way back up to my lips and hovered over me. “That is true. I want to spoil them rotten and give them everything their hearts desire.” His face got serious for a moment. “You’re giving me everything I ever hoped for, Laurel…a family of my own.”

  I didn’t understand his reasoning. “But, you have a family of your own. The Waterses adore you as though you were their own flesh and blood.”

  “I know, and I’m not arguing that. I just wanted to provide offspring for my parents, keep the Andrews line alive. Have you given any thought about using Andrew as a boy name?” His face looked down on mine, waiting for an answer.

  “I’ve told you before, I’m open to anything that will make you happy,” I assured him. “You’ve bought me everything I never thought to ask for, given me one present after another for our wedding, and all I can give to you is me and our children.”

  He smiled and covered his lips with mine. “Don’t you know that’s the only gift I’ve ever wanted?” His hands began to wander and his lips took on a more sensual heat as his cock pressed hard against my inner thigh, seeking out my heat. We were lost to the moment.

  A couple hours later, we had finally finished another interlude in the shower, dressed in bathing suits and cover-ups, and were heading down to the coast.

  “What are we doing today?” I questioned.

 

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