I pull Angie away and pull down my shirt, rocking her until her eyes flutter completely shut. I lean down and kiss her chubby cheek before standing and placing her in the crib, spending a few moments just gazing at her. She’s been awake since our jog. It’s been two days since the blow up at Hit, and Alice is like a bulldog, but I won’t budge. She has to get used to boundaries. That’s probably the only reason she agreed to watch Angie long enough for me to have a quick shower. I smile at my beautiful baby girl who’s so much like my wife and feel my heart constrict. I miss Bette, terribly. I just hope her meeting with Dan this afternoon restores some of her confidence in life.
I sigh as I head to our bedroom to lay down and catch a nap myself. Angie doesn’t keep us up nearly as much, but my emotions have been filling in the gaps. It’s a little embarrassing to know that Bette found that dildo, told Alice, and didn’t say a word to me. I can’t believe Bette thought that she was lacking in the bedroom. That must be why I want her so badly all the fucking time. Right?
I roll over onto my back and let out a frustrated sigh, turning to look to her side of the bed. I reach over and grab her pillow, holding it to my face and breathing in deeply of the scent of her that clings to it. The clean and somewhat spicy, earthy smell that is distinctively her fills my senses and I wish so badly that it were really her, here now, wrapping me in her powerful arms.
I close my eyes and imagine her, leaning over me, the haphazard curls falling forward and springing just a bit as she smiles that seductive smile that sends a hot flush of heat down my spine and curls my toes. I feel it, even just in remembrance. I became an expert at pulling her up by memory when I was without her. It’s all I had of her, and I clung to it, just like I do this pillow now.
I roll to my side and bury my face in her pillow, hoping to find some solace in my mind, in those places where she’s forever engrained on my psyche. Another hot rush floods through my veins and I groan at the throbbing in my center in frustration. I close my eyes and imagine what she might do to me to help put out this fire that never really dies. Would she start at my mouth? I could kiss and suckle at her long, slender fingers before they travel lightly down my throat, across my breast, and stop at my hip. I can see the heated gleam of her gaze, feel the warmth of my need for her seep from me as she reaches inside my pants and skims her nails along my fleshy thighs, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
I let out a whimper as her strong fingers push past the coarse blond hair and push apart the lappets that shutter the most intimate parts of me, parts of me that are only hers. Her finger grazes over my clit and we both gasp as she buries her face in my neck and says, “T, what are you…?”
I pull my hand from my pants breathing heavily as I lean up startled to find Bette standing in the doorway with a take-away bag from the Planet. Fuck…me…literally. I flop back on the bed and put her pillow over my head, holding it there tightly, intent on smothering myself as I groan. She’s my lover, most of the time. I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed necessarily, but we haven’t made love in more than two months. I’m not sure what she’s thinking just now and I’m fairly certain I don’t want to know. “I…I’m sorry, Bette. I shouldn’t have been doing that…”
I feel a weight on the bed next to me as the pillow is pulled away. She stares at it as she settles it in her lap and I release a breath as I close my eyes, a tear rolling down the side of my face. I decide to be an adult and face this head on. I sit up against the headboard and she still doesn’t meet my eyes as she says, “You don’t have to be sorry. You can…touch yourself. It was just…unexpected.”
I sigh again and scrub at my face tiredly. “I never meant for you to see that.”
She picks at the corner of the pillow, her voice cool and calm as she asks, “Do you do that often?”
I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “No, that was the first time I’ve tried since we reconciled.” She still hasn’t looked at me and I have no way of knowing what’s going on inside her unless she does. “Are you angry with me, hurt, anything?”
She swallows hard and finally meets my eyes. Whatever the reason, she’s definitely wounded. “I’m upset, angry, and hurt. Some of it is at you, but mostly it’s at me.”
I furrow my brows. “Why would you be angry at yourself?”
“Because I knew that you wanted me, needed me, and I’ve been avoiding it.”
I reach out and take her hand and kiss the knuckles before asking, “Is this just because of my health, or is it because you found that dildo?” She looks at me confused and I hasten to explain. “Bette, you should have told me you found that. I was just experimenting. I never used it with anyone else.” She seems relieved so I continue. “There were things I struggled with when we broke up. Some of it was attraction. I doubted my sexuality for a time, but some of it was just a…sex thing. But then, you surprised me that night…” My eyes light up with remembrance and I smile at her. “…you showed me that attraction doesn’t determine who you’re with. It may be part of why you choose them in the beginning, but it’s love that keeps you together, that fulfills. I’ve only ever loved you, and honestly, I don’t want to love anyone else.” Her smile is doe-eyed and innocent, and I feel my heart constrict. “You also fulfilled the sex thing, doing things to me and with me that made me feel complete sexually and spiritually. I realized that I had everything I’d ever want or need in you. I was…am…completely yours, and you helped me realize that, so I threw it away.”
She releases a deep breath and smiles sadly. “T, thank you for telling me that. I thought that I wasn’t enough for you sexually. It…it made me anxious, nervous, scared…” Her gorgeous face turns sad and I stroke it until she meets my eyes. She finally gazes at me and I can tell she receives the message. She is all I could ever need or want.
Her gorgeous almond eyes become emboldened by this knowledge and I feel a deep satisfaction in having helped restored that piece of her. She kisses my palm as a thought comes to her. “…but that’s not why I’ve been avoiding sex.” Her face becomes a worried mask. “Just arguing with you put you in the hospital. I know the doctor said your heart’s just overwhelmed right now with the birth and surgery, but what if…”
I put my hand to her lips to stop her. “No, ‘what ifs,’ just like no, ‘I’m sorrys.’ I’m not dead, I’m not dying, and I refuse to live like I am.” She closes her eyes and breathes deeply as a tear rolls down her cheek. I go to pull my hand away and realize it’s the same one I was just touching myself with.
She opens her eyes and they’re lit to glowing with barely contained hunger. I can see it, I can see myself inside her and I lean forward, drawn like a moth to a flame, to let it consume me. I kiss her tentatively, opening myself to her. I’m her wife, the one person in the world should be able to express these desires with.
She’s not reciprocating so I pull back and gaze at her again. She’s fighting it. “Let it go, Bette.” Another tear escapes her eyes and I wipe it away, kissing the trail it left. “I’m healthy, and well, and here…and I need you…” I gaze at her again. “…and I think you need me.”
I kiss her again, forcing her mouth open so I can deepen it. She reciprocates but pushes me back gently resting her forehead against mine while she catches her breath. “If something happens to you because of this, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I pull her face to my breast and hold her over my frantic heart. “Listen to my heart, Bette. You inspire me to feel strong and alive…” She nuzzles her face into my breast and her hands grip my hips tightly. I pull myself up to straddle her and hold her face tightly. Between the half of her that needs this and me, the other half of her that’s afraid is entirely outnumbered. It doesn’t stand a chance, and I hope to kill it completely, to let her know I’m strong and healthy and well and hers. To remind her of how fearless she is in love, and life, and several decades from now, how fearless she will be when she faces death. We have so much left to live with each other, experience with each other, and there’s no time to waste.
I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her back hard to meet her gaze. I’m strong and she needs to know it. I press my lips to hers in a crushing embrace and she groans low in her throat, the soft, femanine timbre so true to everything that is her on a physical and fundamental level. I pull back and attack her neck, stopping at her ear and whispering hotly, “I’m not afraid. I want you…I need you…”
She still doesn’t make a move but I can see the flush of arousal beneath the thin, bronze membrane of her skin; I can smell the clean, earthy spice of her become rich and musky. My mouth waters and I realize I’m going to take the lead, to break that part of her that won’t be persuaded away, to free her of it. I attach myself to her mouth again, stroking hard against her tongue, reaching deep for the very essence of her. I pull back only long enough to get both of our tops removed in a frantic pull. She helps me and I smile as yet another nail is put into the coffin of this last hindrance between us. We’ve come too close and too far for anything to stop us now.
I tear the lingerie from her breasts in my haste to rid her of it, and her eyes meet mine. I can see the aching desire pounding through her soul, in her stark, throbbing pulse point, in the way the peaks of her breasts harden tightly as the flush of pink reaches them. I push her down onto the bed and lift myself from her, grabbing her slacks and snatching them roughly away with the remainder of her lingirie. She leans up as I come down over her again and she’s finally giving in, grabbing at my breasts roughly and palming them as she nips and sucks at my throat. It almost hurts, but part of me wants it to. I want her to be free to take me, I surrender all of myself to her.
Her fingernails scrape down my back and I lift my hips to aid her in removing the last vestiges of cloth and barriers between us. There is nothing now but hot skin sliding against hot skin, and one or both of us whimpers as we make first contact. We’re both so engorged and ready that I can actually feel the stiff, slick meeting of her clit against mine. The friction is entrancing and I cry out at the delicious agony of waiting too long for her. This time, the cry doesn’t stop her or scare her, it inspires that fearlessly primal part of her, and I feel the arousal gush from both us to be met by the other as we frantically grope and tear at each others flesh with our mouths and hands.
That’s it, I can’t take anymore. I’ve waited too long for her. No, this is not the delicate coupling of just love. There are emotions that need to be torn asunder, brought forward and peeled away. Our need for each other is so severe that I can feel the pounding throbs of our centers pulse against each other.
I pull back from her mouth and push her back hard toward the center of the bed. We climb together and I don’t hesitate to turn myself and take what I need, straddling her face and burying my tongue deep inside of her. Her long muscular thighs part and I feel the hum of pleasure reverberate through my sex as I take hers in my mouth. We writhe and devour each other with an almost violent intensity until the first crashing waves of ecstasy pound against our entwined bodies, thrusting and pulling at us savagely until we’ve surrendered and been pulled out into the turbulent surf together. Always together.
My heart beats wildly in my breast and I smile against her flushed, soaked thigh. I’m not scared, she’s not scared, and its frenzied beat only further reassures me that it can handle anything, so long as it’s linked with hers.