by J. KRAMER
“That’s not all of them. Look between the hair and at my anus.”
He lifted her buttocks and pulled the cheeks apart. “An opening rose. How quaint.” His cock throbbed to enter that beckoning rose, but for the moment he felt jealous of the man who had tattooed his woman. “Who did the artwork?”
“His name was Raphael. We stopped in Costa Rica and that’s where Gavin took me to this tattoo shop.” Becky sighed. “Lucien, don’t talk anymore? Make love to me?” Her clit throbbed, her vagina pulsing. It ached for his entry. She felt him part her pubic hair to search for more tattoos. When he found the tiny rosebud and stem she heard the sharp intake of his breath. His head moved down slowly. She lifted her buttocks to meet his searching tongue. It flicked around her clitoris, licked the folds of her cleft then entered her vagina. He teased her until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “My God, Lucien, stop this and fuck me!” she shouted. “I can’t stand it any longer!”
His own desire had reached boiling point. For a moment he rubbed his cock up and down her cleft then with one thrust he entered her.
“Oooh,” Becky shouted. “Oooh, yes, yes, yes, my darling!” Finally she had her wish. His cock filled her vagina; touched the swollen uterus, shaking hands with their child. He stayed quietly within her for moments. Becky tightened her muscles, encasing him, wanting to keep him there forever. Lucien leaned slightly forward, her belly hampering him, but he could reach her breasts. Slowly, she felt him move within her, but it was too slow. She wanted him, needed release. Her head flew from side to side. “Faster, Lucien, deeper. Please…”
“I don’t want to hurt the baby,” he said in a hoarse voice.
”You won’t. Deeper, Lucien—for God’s sake, make love to me. Now!”
He rotated his cock until she squirmed and begged for more. He wanted this moment to last forever. But his body, his cock, told him otherwise. The need for release became too great. He started to thrust, watching her face all the time to make sure he wasn’t hurting her. He wanted to taste her lips, hold her in his arms, but it was impossible with the huge mound of her belly separating them.
Becky felt frustrated. She couldn’t match his movements. Her body was too awkward right now. All she could do was lie there and let him do all the work. She ached to grab his balls, but she couldn’t reach. His cock swelled. Release was close, she knew by the great shudders that shook his body. But she was able to tighten her vaginal muscles. Waves of fulfillment swept through her body as he came with a loud grunt. She screamed. Her release was of such magnitude, that it even surpassed the memory of their lovemaking on the island. “Lucien… Lucien—oh, fuck, that was so good! Now I know what’s been missing all these months.”
Lucien collapsed on the bed next to her and gathered her into his arms. “Honey, I tried to be careful,” he murmured softly against her cheek. “The baby…”
“Is fine,” Becky interrupted. “Hold me, Lucien. Hold me tight and never let me go?”
“I’ll spend the rest of my days making up to you for what you’ve gone through these past seven months,” Lucien murmured while raining kisses on her face.
“Now that I have my life back, all I want and need is for you to love me,” said Becky softly.
“That you’ve got, and more.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
"So I guess a wedding is in order?” John Ferguson asked with a broad smile.
Becky returned the smile. “Dad, Mom, I’d like to wait until after the baby is born. Do you mind? I know you’ve always dreamed of a huge wedding for me and it wouldn’t look quite right if the bride wore white right now.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, I agree. But I think you and Lucien should marry quietly and quickly first to at least make your union legal.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Lucien. “I’ll find a justice of the peace to marry us.”
“You’ll have to get a license and you’ll need to have blood tests done,” Paul said.
“Tomorrow is Charles’ funeral. It would be indecent to marry so soon,” said Becky.
“Who is going to know, honey? I don’t plan on inviting the press,” Lucien said while placing his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”
“So will I. Charles has quite a large estate. He left everything to me, but I don’t want any of it. Do you have any ideas as to what I can do with it?” she asked looking at her parents, Paul and Lucien in turn. “Maria can live in this place until she passes on and I think she deserves some of Charles’ money. She was devoted to him and looked after him and his house for many years.”
“I can help you with that,” said John. “There were always many homeless in California when we still lived here. I’m sure it hasn’t changed and has probably gotten worse. How about if you designated the money toward building shelters for the homeless? You’d have quite a bit of money left. The interest from that would support staff, food and other costs.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Becky said. “But that would mean staying here for a long time to supervise it all.”
“You could hire someone for that, Becky,” Mary said. “Do you know any trustworthy people? If not, you could have the lawyer take care of it all. Later, after the baby and the wedding, you and Lucien could come back to check on things.”
Becky was about to comment when the doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” she wondered.
“I don’t know. I’ll go and check,” Lucien said as he stood up to open the front door.
While Lucien was gone, Becky talked more about everything that had happened over the months until shouting interrupted the conversation. “That’s Gavin,” she said and jumped up, her heart filled with sudden fear.
Paul stopped her. “Becky, you’re in no condition to handle this. Dad, call the cops. Lucien and I will keep the bastard busy until they get here.”
Becky sat frozen on her chair. Gavin’s loud voice overpowered those of Lucien and Paul as he ranted and raved. Suddenly the door burst open and Gavin flew into the room followed by Paul and Lucien. They grabbed him, but it was too late. Gavin had spotted Becky and noticed her condition.
“You’re pregnant!” Gavin shouted. “Let me go, you bastards. She’s my wife and that’s my kid she’s carrying!”
Far in the distance Becky heard the sound of approaching sirens. “You’re wrong, Gavin,” she said as calmly as she could. “The child is Lucien’s and I’m not your wife. You see—I have my memory back.”
Gavin paled visibly and became very still. The sirens had suddenly interrupted the moment of dead silence bringing him back into awareness. “The cops,” he hissed. “You called the cops. You’ll pay for this, Becky! Your name will grace the front pages of all the tabloids!”
Paul and Lucien dragged the resisting man from the room. Becky let out her breath and wiped her forehead.
“Are you all right, honey?” asked Mary.
“Yes, I’m fine, Mom. I guess we can’t go home soon after all. I hadn’t thought about it, but I’ll have to testify against Gavin.”
“Yes, you will, but you can fly back for the court case. It could take months before it gets into court,” John said in a calm voice.
Two detectives questioned Becky, Lucien and her parents. It seemed to take forever but the detectives were gratified that they could finally put Gavin Roarke behind bars.
“We’d like you to come to the station to sign a statement,” the taller of the two detectives said.
Lucien placed his arm protectively around Becky’s shoulders. “Becky has a funeral to deal with. Can it wait?”
“Preferably not.”
“Okay, I guess I can bring her in this afternoon. When will Roarke go to trial?”
“That could take a few months, Mr. Moore.”
“That’s good. We plan to go home for the birth of the baby but we’ll come back for the trial.”
The two men finally left. Mary stood up and asked, “Becky, is there food in this house to prepare a meal?”
“How about we go out to eat?” suggested Lucien. “But before we go, I need to make a call and let my detective know what’s happening.” It wasn’t a call he looked forward to, but it had to be done.
For privacy, he went to Charles’ study. As Lucien picked up the phone, for moments his thoughts dwelled on the last time he’d been in that study, how torn apart he’d felt. Now, his heart and soul were at peace and filled with happiness.
Automatically his finger dialed Melinda’s number. “Melinda? Hi, it’s me.”
“Yes, I hear. So how goes the battle? I read about Burke’s death in the papers.”
“Yes. Apparently he was a good man. I’m grateful to him for helping Becky. She lost her memory, Melinda. The shock of her husband’s death brought everything back.”
“Is that good or bad?” Melinda asked softly while steeling herself for the answer.
“It’s good of course. That bastard kidnapped her as I feared and he’s behind bars. Becky and I will be married soon.”
“I see. What about us, Lucien?”
“Us? There never was an us Melinda. Even if I’d never found Becky, I doubt I could have ever settled down with another woman. I’m sorry.”
“But what we had was good.”
“It was sex, Melinda,” Lucien said patiently. “Just lust.”
“I love you, Lucien.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I guess it is good-bye then. What can I do but wish you luck and happiness?”
“Thank you. I’ll give you my post office box in Australia. You can forward your bill there.”
“I will. Lucien?”
“Yes?”
“If you ever need me…”
“Thank you, Melinda. I hope you find the same kind of happiness that Becky and I know.”
Lucien hung up the phone and returned to the living room. “All set to go? So what does everyone feel like eating?”
Becky stood up and leaned against him. What she mostly felt like doing is dragging him upstairs to the bedroom, but now that her parents were here and would occupy one of the guestrooms, she knew she had to wait. Playfully, her hand stole behind his buttocks. She squeezed his balls causing him to squirm for a moment. To stop her teasing, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
"I don’t want to go back to the mainland, Lucien,” said Becky. Her back ached from posing for him. Though he only allowed her to pose one hour at a time and usually it didn’t bother her, this time the strain of sitting in the same position was taking its toll on her back. “Lucien, are you almost done?”
“Honey, just a few more strokes and yes, then we have to go back to the mainland. You need proper care when you have the baby.”
“The doctor said he wouldn’t come for another two weeks,” Becky pouted.
“I know, babe, but I don’t want to take any risks. Can you hold the pose for another twenty minutes or so?” he asked while trying to cool his ardor. Becky’s belly had become so large that sex was almost impossible. She carried the baby all in the front. Putting the paintbrush between his teeth, he grabbed a smaller brush for fine details. He studied her for a moment and felt his heart overflow with love. She looked so beautiful, so ripe. Her breasts were engorged, ready to suckle an infant. The skin on her belly was taut as a balloon resembling parchment. A fine network of veins was clearly visible. Her bellybutton protruded sharply. He’d had her wear a sheer negligee, one strap slipping off the shoulder revealing her breast. This was the fifth painting he’d done since they’d arrived back on the island and he considered it his masterpiece. Her blond hair, now shoulder-length, looked wild. He’d made a garland of Camellias, which grew wild on the island and it sat loosely on top of her head. She looked like a goddess as she sat there on the rock surrounded by wild flowers and reeds, her feet dangling in the water, the negligee pulled up to just above her thighs, her eyes dreamy and filled with love. They radiated the dreams for their future.
He worked intently, every now and then glancing at his model. Suddenly, he noticed a flash of pain cross her face. He dropped the brush and rushed to her side. “Becky, what’s wrong?”
“My back,” she groaned. “It’s been aching all day and now the pain has gotten so bad I can hardly stand it anymore.”
“Come down off that rock. Maybe a swim will do you good,” he smiled and helped her off the rock.
“That sounds like a plan. I’m sweating. Though you had me sit in the shade, it’s so hot today it feels like a storm brewing.”
“I know. Don’t worry. The cabin has withstood many storms,” Lucien said as he helped her take off the negligee. He pulled her into his arms and relished the feel of her breasts against his chest. “I’m so horny,” he whispered against her hair.
“I was, until the pain started,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry. The painting is finished. I won’t ask you to pose again until after the baby is here.” He cupped her breasts for a moment and felt how heavy they were. Bending down, he briefly sucked each nipple. The sweet honey nectar that flowed from her nipples steadily spurted into his mouth. His cock ached, longed for her, but all he could do now was masturbate and satisfy her with his fingers. But Becky wasn’t horny this time. His cock prodded between her legs, searching, wanting to find its home, but he restrained himself. Gently he rocked back and forth until his semen spurted onto the sand behind her feet.
Becky felt the shuddering of his body and smiled. It wouldn’t take long so she let him go ahead and satisfy himself, though her back was killing her.
“Let’s go for that swim now,” she said softly against her cheek.
The water felt like a soothing balm as she floated on the tepid water. The sky above forever blue, but the sweltering heat told her that it could change any moment. A sudden cramp attacked her and she swam quickly to the side. “Lucien, I think I’m getting the runs. I’ve got cramps like you wouldn’t believe,” she called out to him.
Lucien swam toward her with strong strokes and joined her within seconds. Worriedly he looked at her pale face. “A virus?” he asked, though a small suspicion nagged at the back of his mind. She’s had a backache all day, and now cramps? He thought about the book they’d both studied and the mention of back labor and fear gnawed at his gut. He had to get her back to the mainland, and fast.
“I think so. Let’s go back to cottage? Oooh,” and she crouched down on the warm sand hugging her belly. Warm fluid escaped from between her cleft staining the white sand. “Oh, nooo, I think I’ve started labor,” she said softly.
“Are you sure?”
“I think I’m sure. My water just broke.”
“We need to get you back to the mainland fast as possible,” said Lucien watching her helplessly, his suspicions confirmed. He reached out to help her stand, while silently chiding himself for having listened to her and staying on the island so long, but she pushed his hand away.
“No time,” she grunted and cried out again. “The baby is pushing, ready to come.”
“Honey, I told you we should have headed back. That’s why I bought the boat. Come, I’ll help you.”
“It’s too late, Lucien,” she said in between grunts. “The baby is coming. Now! Fetch my negligee so I can lie down on something.”
“Oh my God,” groaned Lucien. “What the hell do I know about birthing?” He quickly fetched the flimsy scrap of material and draped it on the sand.
“Lucien—help me—get ready—to catch—the baby…”
His heart pounded, his head a whirlwind of thought, angry thoughts at himself that he should have put his foot down and taken her back to the mainland. He watched her lean back on the sand, her buttocks resting on the negligee. She opened her legs wide and he saw her gaping vagina. “You’re not kidding,” he said in a gruff voice. “I can see the head. Honey, if I carry you to the cottage…”
“Too late for that.”
Becky breathed fast as she’d learned from the books, trying to stop the urge to push so fast, but it didn’t help. Her son was ready to come into the world and nothing could hold him back.
Lucien sat on his knees between her legs his hands ready to catch the infant. He glanced at her face. Rivulets of perspiration ran in a steady stream from her forehead, her face strained with the effort of pushing. Suddenly he realized the beauty of the moment. Becky was giving him a child and doing it as nature intended with no help from medical science. This thought caused another moment of fear. What if something went wrong? Her vagina strained to expel the infant. How could an opening so small stretch so much?
Becky felt as if she would burst. The pain of the infant moving down the birth canal was excruciating. She breathed short gasping breaths, while her hands searched desperately for something to hold on to, but there was nothing except the warm sand. Her fingers dug into it as she pushed again. A moment of fierce pain caused her to scream, then relief. She felt the baby’s body slither from her vagina and she fell back onto the sand.
Lucien caught the baby. The umbilical cord was still inside Becky. A loud, lusty wail rent the air and he smiled tenderly down at the squirming, slippery infant in his hands. “It’s a girl, Becky,” he said softly and glanced down at her. She lay on the sand with her eyes closed; her face a chalky white. He knelt down beside her and placed the infant on her chest. “Honey, are you okay?”
She opened her eyes then and smiled up at him. “Yes, I’m just tired and sore. A girl? I was sure it would be a boy,” she said softly.
“Are you disappointed?”
“No, of course not.” She cradled the infant, holding her protectively against her breasts. A rosebud mouth searched for her nipples. Instinctively the infant found one and sucked it hungrily into her mouth.
“You scared the wits out of me,” said Lucien, his voice heavy, laden with emotion.
“The afterbirth, it’s coming,” said Becky.
Lucien saw a grayish, round chunk land between her legs. “What do I do now?”