Beauty from Love (Beauty 3)

“We can do better than this.” He gets up from the chair, me clinging to him for dear life. He moves to his padded weight bench and lowers me. He grabs the waist of my cowgirl bottom, dragging it down my legs, and I’m sprawled completely naked before him, wearing only my boots. He goes down on his knees and pushes my legs back and apart. I arch, staring at the ceiling above me in anticipation of his touch. And then I feel it, the first upward swipe of his soft, wet tongue up my center. I grab the top of his weight bench overhead and hold on, afraid I might buck hard enough to fall onto the floor. “Easy, L.”

Easier said than done. It’s been two months since I had an orgasm.

He allows me to relax again and then I feel the second flick of his tongue, sending another jolt of pleasure straight to my groin. “Ohh …”

“Mmm,” he groans. “I’ve missed tasting you.” He places his tongue flat against me and licks straight up. “You are so fucking sweet.”

I’m pretty sure my eyes must be rolling back in my head because I can’t see a thing. I’m lost to all my senses but one, the feel of Jack Henry’s mouth on me.

After he licks me several more times, he sucks my clit into his mouth and uses the suction to pull on it. Sometimes soft tugs, alternating it with a firmer pull. As much as I’d like this to go on forever, it can’t because I’m unable to last any longer. That once very familiar feeling begins to build and it’s coming closer until my inner walls and uterus contract—but this time it feels different. My womb is much fuller. It’s occupied by our growing baby so the tightening has a whole new sensation—and it’s magnificent. “Ahh … Ahh.” I can’t form a coherent sentence.

A moment later, it’s over and I’m incredibly relaxed, very much like my body is made of jelly. I’m not sure I could stand if I tried. “I really enjoyed that.”

“Good because I really enjoyed doing it.”

I feel the baby doing what can only be described as acrobatics. “Good grief, that stirred her up. Feel.”

He moves up my body and places his large hands around my bump, completely encasing it in his hold. “Wow. That woke her up for sure.” He smiles as he feels our child performing beneath his hands. “You said her.”

Yeah, I did, but I’m not ready to admit it. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

He won’t convince me to confess. “If I did, it’s only because that’s all I hear out of you. Her. She. Girl.”

“Because she is a girl.”

“Jack Henry, you don’t know that. It’s a fifty-fifty chance it’s a boy.”

He shakes his head. “I know what I know.”

“Okay. I’m giving in and rolling with you on this. You want to call this baby a girl, we will, but just between us. Don’t do it in front of other people. It’ll confuse them.”

He’s grinning and I’m sure it’s because he thinks he’s convinced me. “Whatever you say, love.”

28

What a relief. Laurelyn is finally at a point where I can make her come again. Receiving without giving is a problem for me. I feel beneath inadequate when she doesn’t come—that’s why I typically get her off first—making her one orgasm ahead of me. That’s just how we function, so deterring from our ritual has been unsettling.

My workday is almost complete and I’m ready to go home to my wife. I can’t wait to make her come again. Who knows? I might not even wait until we go to bed. I could find her in the kitchen and lift her to the counter and go down on her. I hope she’s wearing a dress. That always makes things so much easier.

I look at the time and see that Mrs. Porcelli has left for the day. Good thing. The little fantasy in my head has made me rock hard. I think I’ll go home and turn it into a reality.

I come into the kitchen but Laurelyn isn’t there. I call out for her.

“In here.”

Her voice sounds like it’s coming from the living room so my fantasy immediately changes course. I’ll pull her up from the couch and bend her over the arm and go down on her from behind. I’ve never done it like that before.

I walk into the living room, primed and ready to give L a surprise orgasm, and see the look on her face. Something is wrong. “What is it, babe?”

“I spoke with Grayson Drake this morning.” Oh shit. “He says Blake was scheduled to go to trial last month but charges were dropped because you told him we weren’t coming to testify.”

I could be in trouble here. “He called you a couple of months ago while you were in the hospital. You’d just gone back for surgery.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“You were in a fragile state. Our baby’s life was hanging in limbo and I was afraid telling you might tip the scale in the wrong direction. I wasn’t keeping it from you—only postponing until our baby was out of danger—but then the right time never presented itself. It was easier to not address it than it was to mess everything up once our lives were back to some semblance of order.” She’s staring at me, unmoving. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Well, I’m beyond upset about it now.” She’s looking at me in what I think is disbelief, like maybe she feels I’ve betrayed her. “He knocked me around and then shoved his fingers inside me before he ripped my panties off.” I didn’t know the fucker got his hand inside her. She’s never told me that before. “He had every intention of raping me and he’d have been successful if you hadn’t come in when you did.”

It’s a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I didn’t give in without trying. “I questioned him about postponing the trial until your condition permitted you to come and he told me that Blake had the right to a speedy trial and it couldn’t be postponed longer than a couple of weeks. I suggested closed-circuit video for our testimony and he basically dismissed the idea, saying the judge wouldn’t allow it.”

“How is it possible for him to get away with doing that to me?”

She needs to know I’m not letting this go. “He’s not. I have someone on it.”

“What does that mean?”

I knew she’d want details and that’s why I haven’t told her what I’m doing. “I won’t go into particulars because I don’t want you involved. I won’t allow you to be tainted by anything that might happen.”