Beauty From Love (10 page)

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Authors: Georgia Cates

BOOK: Beauty From Love
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I lean over to kiss her mouth and stroke my thumb over her cheek. “Best gift ever.”

She lifts a brow. “I took a test earlier and I’m ovulating.”

It’s weird. Something about hearing her say those words makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and haul her down to our bedroom so I can bury myself deep inside her. “Does that mean you want to start trying now?”

“I do.”

“I love when those two words come out of your mouth. It means something crazy good is about to happen.”

I get up from the couch and tug so she’ll stand with me. I put my hands on her lower back and pull her close. No hug. No kiss. I simply look into her eyes. “This is what you want, right? You’re not agreeing because you feel pressured or because you know it’s what I want?”

She strokes her hand down the side of my face and I reach up to cup my hand over hers. “It’s all I’ve thought about since you asked on our honeymoon.” She laughs. “It’s totally insane to be married a month and try to have a baby on purpose, but it’s what I want. I’m ready to start our family.”

“Our family. I love the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

I clasp her hand in mine and lead her down the hall to our bedroom. “Can I have a minute? I want to change into something special for you.”

Yes! I knew she’d be putting on some hot lingerie for my birthday. “Yeah. You can have two if you need it.” She walks into the closet and comes out with a shopping bag. Whoa. I wonder what’s in there? “Take as long as you need.”

She gives me a naughty grin. “Be back in a jiffy.”

This is it, McLachlan. You and L are going to make a baby. There’s no going back after it’s done. Hmm. I’m surprisingly calm about it, but I guess that’s how it feels when you know it’s right.

There’s no reason to still be dressed when L returns. We both know what we’re here for, so I take off my shirt and trousers and place them on the chair in the corner of the room. I’m only wearing my boxer briefs when she comes out of the bathroom and stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She shifts her weight to one leg and places a hand on her hip, pushing her breasts up in her ivory chemise. It’s a bra at the top with sheer fabric flowing to the edge of the tiny triangle between her legs. It’s the ultimate prelude to baby-making.

“What does the birthday boy think?”

I walk toward her and she moves to meet me in the middle of the room. I’m remembering the times when she’s been her most beautiful: the night I met her; seeing her again after I thought she was gone forever; watching her walk down the aisle to be my wife. I thought she was beautiful all those times but the way she looks now as she comes to me so we can make a baby … it isn’t something I know how to label. Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m in awe.

I’m overcome by the love I feel for this woman. My eyes fill and a single tear escapes. She’s trembling as she comes up on tiptoes to catch it with her lips. “I know.” This is a surreal moment for me. This beautiful woman has agreed to take a part of me into her body and join it with hers to make a new being—a little person who looks like us.

She puts her hands on my hips and walks backward toward the bed until the backs of her legs hit the mattress. She sits and glides to the middle. She lifts her foot and curls her toes around the waistband of my boxer briefs, pulling them, and me, in her direction. She uses her index finger to coax me. “Come here, birthday boy. I’ve got a little somethin’ for ya.”

I crawl up her body, taking my time as I leave a path of kisses beginning at her belly. When we’re face to face, she grasps the back of my neck. “Kiss me,” she says as she pulls me down so our mouths can meet.

Her mouth is making love to mine. Slow. Deep. Loving. “I love you, Laurelyn McLachlan.”

She stares at my eyes as I hover above and runs her fingertips down my cheek where she kissed my tear away only moments earlier. “And I love you, Jack Henry McLachlan.”

I kiss the side of her face and move my mouth down the length of her neck before reaching to unfasten her top. She arches her back, allowing me easier access to the clasp, and I can’t resist placing a kiss between her breasts, over her heart.

When I’m finished removing it, she lifts her bum and we repeat the same process with her knickers. “I’m feeling a little underdressed here.” She pushes at the waistband of my boxer briefs. “Maybe you should take these off so I don’t feel out of place.” She helps me push our last barrier away and I discard it over the edge of the bed.

Her legs are parted and I nestle my body between them until my hard cock is against her warm, inviting entrance. But I’m not quite ready. Making love is something we’ve done countless times, but it’s never been for this reason. This time is different. “This is about so much more than us.”

She’s trembling beneath me. “I know,” she whispers. “And it scares me to death, but in a good way.”

I’m pressed against her, ready to enter, but I have to ask one last time. “You’re sure?”

She lifts her hips and my tip glides just inside her entrance. “Yes.” She squeezes her legs and brings me closer. “No doubts.”

I press my hand into the mattress so I can wrap it around her lower back. I lift to pull her hips upward and sink into her as far as possible—I’m sure deep is best when trying to impregnate your wife.

Impregnate my wife.
I like the sound of that.

I’m moving inside her slowly and my hands move to skim the underside of her arms. I push them over her head and lace my fingers through hers. Our hands are joined as one, just like our bodies.

This is it—two will become three. Maybe. If things go well, this could quite possibly be the last moment we’ll share before our child finds its place in her womb.

I release her hands and move mine down her body. Her legs are bent on each side of my hips so I grasp them and push back. Laurelyn moans and I slide my hand between our bodies to the point where we become one. No beginning. No end. But I know L’s body as well as my own. She needs more so I find that spot—the one that drives her crazy every time I touch it—and stroke my fingers against the nub. A moment later, her breath quickens as she grasps my back and pulls me against her tighter. She grinds her hips upward so I know I’m right where I need to be. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

This woman knows better. I never stop until she comes undone.

Her legs tighten and I know what to expect next. And then it happens. Her inner walls squeeze around me, contracting in rhythm. Once. Twice. And then again and again until I lose count because I’m lost in my own world coming apart. Exploding.

I push her legs back and apart as I thrust deeply one last time. I’m making this one count but it won’t be a shame if she doesn’t get pregnant and we have to do this again. And again. I enjoy it right nicely.

My upper body is braced on my elbows as I hover above her. I’m still inside, unmoving. I push the hair from her face and she smiles, giggling. “What’s so funny?”

“I was thinking of all the extreme measures we took to prevent a baby and now we’re trying to have one.”

It’s called irony. “That’s what happens when your world is turned on its head. Things you once thought you’d never want transform into your greatest desire.”

“You certainly did a one-eighty.”

“I decided to go all in, baby. No folding.” I kiss her before pulling out slowly and rolling onto my side. “I never imagined myself loving a woman the way I love you. You changed my everything.”

She points toward the head of the bed. “Pass me a pillow.”

“Sleepy so soon, love?” I hold the pillow out and she takes it. “I thought we might try that again in case the first time wasn’t successful.”

“It’s not for my head.” She lifts her hips. “Help me get this under my butt.”

Okay. I get this now. She’s taking advantage of gravity, which means she’s been researching. It could be entertaining to go back and look at the history on our computer. “Where’d you find this tip?”

“Your mother told me to put a pillow under my hips and stay in bed for a while … after you’ve done ‘
your thing
.’ Her words.”

Oh fuck. L told my mum? “She’ll probably call to see how things went. She has no boundaries when it comes to her kids and that now includes you. You know that, right?”

“I love your mom. We’re close so I caved when she asked what I was giving you for your birthday.”

L straightens her legs and holds them in the air. Wonder if this is another tip from my mum? “Want me to stand you on your head and give you a good shake?”

“No, but I wouldn’t turn you down if you came over here and let me prop these on you.” I move over and hook an ankle over each of my shoulders. She puts her hands behind her head and her breasts have never looked fuller. Gravity always works for my girl, never against. “I’m not sure this helps the sperm get in there or not, but it won’t hurt.”

Shit, how’s a guy supposed to have his wife’s vagina staring him in the face and not pounce?

I smile down at her and she can guess what I’m thinking. “Don’t even think about it for at least ten more minutes.”

She’s got to be kidding me. “Easier said than done, L.” I reach down and run my thumb through her moist slit. “This is practically begging to be licked.”

“Don’t you dare, McLachlan.” She warns me but I don’t listen. I’m too captivated by what’s in front of me screaming to be tasted. I lean forward but she locks her knees around my head. “It’s not a Tootsie Pop. We’re not gonna find out how many licks it takes to get to the center—at least not for nine more minutes.”

Nine minutes seems much longer when your horny husband has his head between your knees staring at your stuff like he’s starving and you’re a buffet. He spent the entire time taunting me, using his filthy mouth to tell me what he was going to do as soon as I would let him.

And I am so turned on.

He’s describing how he’s going to lick me and I can’t wait any longer. “Time’s up.”

“Hmm … I don’t believe it is. I think there’s at least two more minutes to go.” Great, he wants to taunt me further.

I reach up and grab the back of his neck, pulling him down so we’re eye to eye. “Your mouth. On me. Now.”

He’s amused, as evidenced by his grin. “Now I’m the one who has a little somethin’ for you … and this drenched goodness below your waist.”

Oh shit. I’m going to die if he doesn’t put his mouth on me soon. Or touch me. Something. Anything.

I rock my hips on the pillow because I’m restless and needy. It’s excruciating and he could put a stop to it—if only he would. “Please don’t tease me because I don’t think I can stand it.”

He puts his finger on my pubis and presses against the bone. I lift my hips, hoping to coerce it downward, but he resists my coercion. “You mean don’t tease you the way I was teased just now while I was forced to look at this?” He looks down and drags his finger through my center. I groan and bite my lower lip as I shift on the pillow. “You’re so wet.” He strokes one labia and then the other. “Did you know this whole area fills with blood when you’re turned on? The action is very much like an erection.” He strokes me a few more times before stopping. “It’s magnificent to watch the physical changes that occur as you become more aroused. Your breathing increases and you get a flush across your chest. I’ve never sat back and watched your body change like this. It’s beautiful.”

Beautiful? I’m about to combust and he’s telling me it’s lovely? “Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. I don’t care which. It’s your choice but do something. Please.” Desperation. That’s what I hear in my voice.

I’m this man’s puppet and it isn’t the first time. Nor will it be the last.

I’m still on my back with a pillow under my hips. Not for long. He yanks it out from beneath me and tosses it aside. “Touch you, lick you, or fuck you. My choice, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I believe I’ll do all three.” He flips me over to my stomach and I make an unexpected high-pitched sound when I land on the mattress. Jack Henry finds it amusing; I can hear him chuckle behind me. Then he’s at my ear and his voice is breathy. “You’re gonna like this.”

His promise sends a thrill straight through me and it concentrates in my core. “Whatever it is you’re gonna do, I wish you’d hurry up and do it already.”

“No instant gratification for you, Mrs. McLachlan. It comes fast and is gone too quickly. I want you to enjoy the anticipation.” He slides his hand around to my stomach and then down to the cusp between my thighs. “This is me touching you.” He cups his hand over me and moves it up and down. “And this is me licking you.” His tongue starts at the base of my lower back and he drags it up my spine slowly. He gets about halfway up when my body bows uncontrollably, sending my bottom up from the bed, arching in response to the sensation. That’s when I feel him enter me from behind. “And this is me fucking you. All three at the same time.”

His weight presses my front into the mattress. I grasp the comforter and bring it to my mouth to bite so I can stifle my scream. All these sensations—touch, lick, fuck—are too much to bear at once. Each thrust forces a moan, sounding much like an animalistic grunt, from my mouth.

He does something new when he brings his palm down and smacks my bottom. It’s not hard enough to hurt but I jump because I wasn’t expecting it. And then he squeezes my cheek. Hard. It’s not something he’s done to me before.

How can he work the front and the back like this at the same time? There’s only one answer. Talent.

His mouth leaves my back and is next to my ear. He takes it in his mouth and sucks it hard. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna leave a hickey on my earlobe. “I’m so close, L, but I want you to come around me first.”

And as if he holds the power to control my body, I do. Big time. I fist the edge of the mattress and scream, “Ohhh!” Each of his last few thrusts propel me across the bed and I’m glad to be holding onto something so I’m not sent face first into the floor.

Gah, he likes it rough sometimes. Good thing I do too.

He stills and lowers his body to lie against my back, kissing across my shoulders. He’s so tender and gentle—a huge change from the man forcefully thrusting himself into my body just a moment ago. “I see that Mr. Hyde has returned to being Dr. Jekyll.”

I feel him press his face to my back. “You don’t like Mr. Hyde?” He rubs his hands up my arms.

“I most certainly do. A lot.”

He gives my shoulder one last kiss before pulling out of me and rolling to the bed. He lies next to me, and I don’t move when he gently dances his nails up and down my back. “It’s fucking ridiculous how much you turn me on. It’s like you have this crazy power over me and sometimes I feel like it takes over.” He strokes my lower back in a circular motion. “You know I’d want you to tell me if I ever do anything you don’t like, right?”

Is he talking about slapping and squeezing my ass? “I know, but don’t worry—I love everything you do to me. Especially this new triad of sensation—touch, lick, fuck. I hope you do it again soon.”

He lowers his fingertips to my cheeks and traces them back and forth, occasionally gliding one down my crack, but never close enough to touch the place that remains unexplored.

I wonder if he’s doing it because he’s toying with the idea of trying it. I think I assumed anal sex was something neither of us had experienced, but the truth is I have no idea what he’s done with other women. Frankly, I’m not sure I want to know, but the question eats at me and I’m afraid it’ll continue if I don’t find out. His favorite position is from behind. Does that mean he really wants it the other way but isn’t asking me for it?

“Do you think it would be a mistake to talk about sexual encounters we’ve had with others?”

His hand goes motionless. “I don’t want to know anything about you and Blake. I’m content with pretending the whole thing never happened.”

I’ve told him that Blake never made me come. Jack Henry’s the only man who’s ever done that for me, so he knows sex with Blake wasn’t good. I’m sure that leads him to think we didn’t do much exploring—and he’d be right. Sex with Blake was always missionary and it ended with him getting off as soon as possible. End of story.

“What if I wanted to know about the things you’ve done with the women before me?”

He sighs. “I’d say no good can come from talking about it.” He begins stroking my back again. “You are my wife. Nothing before you matters. Nada.”

But it does because it matters to me. I want to know if he’s fucked another woman in the ass. More importantly, I need to know if he liked it, so I’m going for it. I’m pushing all my chips to the center of the table. No folding for me. “Did you have anal sex with the others?”

His hand goes motionless again. “What do you hope to gain by talking about things that happened before I knew you?”

Shit. That’s a yes. Now I wish I hadn’t asked.

I drop my face to the bed but turn away from Jack Henry. I don’t want him to see how bothered I am. “I just wanted to know that I was the one to fulfill your deepest desires, not someone else who came before me.”

“L. That’s not my deepest desire.”

“But you liked doing it?”

“I didn’t say I’d done that with any of the others. I haven’t.” His hand returns to its previous motion. “I think all guys think about it. I know I do when I’m giving it to you from behind, but it’s not something you’ve done before. I figure you’ll tell me if you ever want to try it and we’d experiment, if it’s what you want. If you never want to, it’s fine.”

The act seems so unnatural and unromantic to me. “It scares me.”

“Then we won’t do it. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m sure it’s something Addison has done. I can ask her to tell me about it.” I lift my head and peer over my shoulder. “I would try it if it’s what you wanted.”

“My mates talk about it all the time, but this is what I know. Fucking you in the ass doesn’t get us a baby.” He kisses my shoulder. “I want all of my swimmers in the right place.”

Good grief.

I lift my head and roll over so I can look at him. I’m almost shocked by his words. Almost. He just used the phrase
fucking you in the ass
and the word
baby
in the same sentence. I’m pretty sure that combination is just wrong, but that’s my caveman. No filter. And I love him for it.

“If this whole conception thing works out tonight, then we’ll have a baby before Christmas.” And before our one-year anniversary. That’s a little terrifying.

“If you got pregnant tonight, when would the baby come?”

“I’d be due on October first.” He looks at me grinning and I shrug. “What? I Googled it.”

Breakfast with Margaret, Emma, and Chloe turned into the two mothers giving me all kinds of tips on how to get pregnant. Between the two of them, they have six kids, so it appears they know what they’re talking about.

I return to our apartment after spending the morning with the McLachlan ladies and find our bags sitting next to the door. “In a hurry much?”

“There’s a rainstorm coming soon. I’d prefer to be home before it starts.”

“You don’t like driving in the rain?” Technically, I guess it’s riding instead of driving since we’ll be in the backseat.

“Not really. Dad and I were in a car accident in the rain when I was ten. I still remember the car hydroplaning.” He stops to kiss my forehead as he walks by with the last piece of luggage. “I haven’t been much of a fan since.”

“Was it a bad accident?”

He puts the bag down and points to his upper arm. “Broke my arm so bad, the bone was sticking out through the skin.”

I wince, thinking of the pain he must’ve endured at such a young age. “That sounds terrible.”

He pushes his sleeve up and I’m able to see a faint scar—one I’ve never noticed before—and I stroke my fingertips over it. “It wasn’t pleasant.”

There’s so much I still don’t know about Jack Henry, but I plan to learn it all.

I place my purse on the table by the door. “Can I have a minute to do a walk-through? Just to make sure I’m not leaving anything I want to take home.”

“Of course. You can do that while I take these bags to the car.”

I walk into the bedroom and the linens on the bed are thrown about from our baby-making sessions. I guess he has someone who’ll come in to clean after we’re gone. Or maybe I’ve assumed too much and it’s something I should’ve taken care of prior to leaving. Too late now.

I feel him come up behind me and his arms wrap me in a tight cocoon. “Remembering what we did in that bed last night? And this morning?”

“I am—vividly. There’s a lot of biological material on those sheets. I should have washed them this morning since we’re leaving.” It seems gross, and maybe rude, to leave the bedding for someone else to clean.

“I have someone who will come in to take care of it.”

Well, there’s no time for worrying about it now. “Okay. Let me take a look in the bathroom and then we can go.”

I go inside for a once-over and decide I’m all good. If I leave something, I can buy it in Wagga. Maybe. It’s not exactly a large town with a lot of shopping options but it’s where Jack Henry and I have made our home, and I love living there.

I’m walking out the door when something in the trash can catches my eye. I stop and look at the blue box I’ve become so very familiar with since our honeymoon—one of our many boxes of spermicide. I reach down to take it out and hold it up while standing in the doorway. I clear my throat to catch Jack Henry’s attention. “I see you trashed this. Did you take pleasure in doing that?”

He gives me a crooked grin. “Hell yeah, I liked throwing that shit away. It makes our decision to have a baby feel much more real.”

I’ll agree with that. It’s feeling very real right now.

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