Rare and Precious Things
Page 45“Oh!” I gasped at his harsh, but beautiful invasion, riding through the sexual heat and sensation of extreme fullness that bordered upon pain but didn’t cross into it. Just steadying myself for the real intensity that would come—once he started to move in and out of me in long, purposeful slides. I started to shake, nearly out of my mind with sensations so intense I could hardly breathe.
“Okay, my beauty?” he rasped at the back of my ear, his beard abrading my skin as he dug his chin into my shoulder to hold himself still, waiting for my answer. He sought my approval, of him, of his taking of me, of his physical domination over my body.
I would always give it to him. I wanted it so badly.
“Yeeees.” I rolled my head back, unable to say more than that one word. I needed to focus on holding myself together before I blew apart into millions of pieces. Our joining felt that overpowering.
“Oh, f**k, yeah.” He filled one hand with my hair and started to move within me, long careful slides of hot male flesh piercing me with exquisite deliberation. “So good, baby…” He groaned into each thrust, filling me deeply, taking me along on an erotic, lust-filled trip of sensation. “You’re so beautiful…and sexy f**king amazing,” he chanted, working his c**k with the skill I’d come to know and love. Possessing me completely, every part of me laid bare.
I heard something else in his voice, too. A kind of desperation—a frantic desire to meld with me. A dark craving for his body to enfold mine so fully, there couldn’t be any delineation where he ended and I began. His cock, fingers, tongue, his breath, his cum—his everything, wanted in.
And so, Ethan took me until he brought me to the highest peaks of my release, and held me when it broke into a billion shards of shimmering glory. He swallowed my cries with his mouth, and gave me more of him, his c**k swelling to irrational hardness in preparation for the blast. He said things to me as he came, shuddering declarations of love and adoration…for me alone…as he filled me up with himself.
3rd January
WATCHING Brynne putting on her makeup, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I hoped she didn’t notice me watching because I didn’t want her feeling self-conscious. I knew she was a little worried, because her body had changed so much. But my girl was more beautiful to me now, than ever. Our little blueberry had grown right along with her, and was now a thirty-two week-old, tiny little person, who kicked, and wriggled, and rolled around for me all the time now.
“You’d better start getting ready or we’ll be late. Aunt Marie’s plans wait for no man…” she trailed off, never taking her concentration away from the mirror where she was applying some kind of dark smudge around her eyes. She had on a short black lace getup that made me hard just looking, but she was only halfway dressed.
I realized quickly, it would be best to stick with the plan or we’d never make it to Dad’s birthday dinner on time. So I forced myself to think of something very non-arousing, about work instead. It didn’t take long. The minding of young Prince Christian of Lauenburg at XT Europe certainly helped to cool my cock. My trip was just two days away, and I dreaded leaving Brynne already. Ridiculous f**kin’ job.
“But I’d much rather look at you,” I told her.
She made a soft sound. “Well my ass is getting bigger by the second, in direct competition with my belly. I hope my ass doesn’t win. At the end of this gig, I just want the baby, not the extra ass.” She looked up into the mirror at me, her expression giving away little of what was on her mind. Still so mysterious, my girl was. I loved that aspect of her, though. Made me even more determined to get as close to her as I possibly could, so I could touch and taste and absorb every available molecule. My need for Brynne was still as strong as ever. I had no doubts that would ever change, either.
“Your arse is perfection and you’ll never hear me complaining ’bout a bit more of you to grab hold of.” I gave her a slow wink and a lecherous grin. “From back here, you don’t even look pregnant.” I came up behind her, my hands sliding forward to rest on her bump. “I have to do this, to really know you’ve got anything here.” I splayed my palms over the firm rounded swell of our baby growing strong inside her.
She leaned back and rested her weight against me. “Oh something’s there all right,” she said, “that you put there.”
“I seem to remember that you did,” she said dryly.
“Oh, you enjoyed it too.” I slid my hands up to her luscious tits and lifted one in each hand, squeezing softly. “Now these…are a different story. They’ve changed a great deal, and I f**king love the transformation.”
“I’ve noticed.” She closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her neck, just allowing me to touch her at will. Always so giving of herself to me and my crazed needs.
“Mmmmm…you feel perfect to me, Mrs. Blackstone, and you always will.”
“Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you call me Mrs. Blackstone?” she asked lazily, pegging me with those lovely eyes.
“A few times, yes. And I’m delighted you love your new name.” I grinned back at her in the mirror. “I know I love saying it to you. I know I love that my name is now your name. I love a lot of things…now.”
She reached her hand up to hold my cheek, still looking at me in the mirror. “But you’re getting a new name, too. We have someone coming to us soon who will know you only by one name, and it’s not Ethan.”
“Yep. You are somebody’s dad now.” She smiled softly, a mixture of happiness and maybe a little sadness at the thought of her own father. “You’ll be the best ever…” she whispered.
Brynne always amazed me in her generosity—her ability to be so lovingly giving even in the face of her grief and loss. Brave. Strong. Magnificent. I kissed her on the back of the neck and rested my chin on her shoulder, both of us staring into the vanity mirror. “I love the sound of it—Dad. I’m a dad and you’re a mum.”
“We are indeed.”
I returned my hands to her stomach. “I love our little pineapple.” I turned her around to face me and took her smiling face in my two hands. “And I love you, Mrs. Blackstone.”