Chapter 31 Arabelle
Arabelle
Six Months Later…
Igrip the balcony railing and watch as the white-capped waves of the crystal-clear waters batter the sandy shore below. This is one of the most serene and beautiful places I have ever seen.
The brisk winds of the Mediterranean Sea blow through my shoulder-length hair, which is now in tight curls because of the salty air. I deeply inhale the warm breeze. It’s like heaven on earth.
His arms, warm and firm, wrap around my waist from behind, and his large hands resting on my stomach ground me in the moment. I lean against his broad chest, sinking deeper into his embrace, the scent of his smoky cologne filling my senses.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks, his soft, warm lips brushing the crook of my neck.
I look back over my shoulder with a smile, hoping to ease the concern I see in his loving gaze. “Not too bad today. I’ve only been to the bathroom twice since I woke up this morning. So, I say that’s a plus.”
I face him, then finger a piece of his shoulder-length hair, which is loose today because he knows how much I love it.
So far, this pregnancy has been kicking my ass.
I’m on leave from the theater until I have our baby.
Since I found out that I was pregnant, I’ve had nonstop morning sickness to the point where I’ve been dehydrated and hospitalized once.
This morning was the first time I’ve had a day where I haven’t been bent over a toilet for the majority of the day.
He releases a relieved breath and slowly, the tension eases from his body as his hardened exterior relaxes. “Good.” He lays his hand on my growing stomach and the grin crossing his face when he touches me always causes my heart to stop. “And the baby?” he asks.
“Doing backflips like she’s training for the Olympics.”
He chuckles, and it’s like music to my ears. “Or maybe she’s training to be a dancer like her mama.”
“That’s possible too. Olympian or dancer, I could live with either one.”
His rare laugh fills the air once again, a warm and genuine sound that lights up his entire face. It leaves me completely captivated and fascinated by how much it changes his features.
It isn’t often my husband finds humor in anything, but when he does, I fall in love with him all over again.
It’s like he drops his carefully erected walls.
Then, and only then, does he let me see the true Florian Larsson.
It’s very rare because the man carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, and that weight has gotten heavier since I’ve been pregnant.
He’s constantly got his head on a swivel, making sure everything stays safe for his family.
I’ve told him constantly that it’s no way to live, but he always says that it’s necessary to keep us safe.
Despite the constant pressures of this life, this trip has done wonders for him to relax a little before the reality of our world comes crashing back down on us when we return to the States. Here, he can be Florian. There, he becomes Beast, head of the Larsson Syndicate.
His face softens, and his eyes light up with a warmth that melts away all his troubles whenever he speaks about our daughter or when he excitedly surprises me with another gift he thinks I’ll like, want, or need.
When he speaks about his mother, that light shines brightly in his eyes. Other than that, he’s all business.
I’ve gotten used to Beast, as most people know him.
It’s an intricate part of Florian. He’s the protector.
He’s the savior. He’s the provider. But he’s also the one who, above all else, will do anything for me and our daughter that I’m carrying.
Beast and Florian are one and the same. While it took me some time to come to terms with the important roles both versions my husband plays in my life, I’ve come to love them both very deeply.
“That dress looks so beautiful on you, Beauty.”
My lips curve into a smile I can’t control, a feeling of pure bliss washing over my entire body. This morning, when I woke up, I found a lovely cream-colored dress with a note from Florian asking that I wear it today. Although it’s fancier than the dresses I’ve been wearing, I did as he asked.
The draped silhouette of the chiffon floor-length dress beautifully complements my growing pregnant belly, while the cinched waist adds a touch of elegance.
Its design gives a Grecian goddess vibe and not maternity dress, which I love.
It moves so fluidly with each step I take. It’s absolutely gorgeous.
“Thank you. It’s stunning. And you don’t look so bad yourself. What’s the occasion?”
He’s wearing a tailored black dress shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal a glimpse of his chest, paired with matching slim dress slacks and black dress shoes. He’s always in a suit or dressed up, but this doesn’t look like his normal attire.
“I’ve got a little something planned for us that I think you will absolutely love.”
“You always have something planned for us. What is it?” I ask with excitement in my voice. “Are we going on another tour?”
Even though Florian is constantly surprising me, I still hate surprises. I believe he’s trying to change my mind about them, but I’d rather know what’s going on instead of waiting until the end. I’m impatient, which is something he’s gotten used to.
We’ve been out exploring the island and have gone to a couple of outdoor markets only a few times since we’ve been here.
Because my morning sickness has been terrible, Florian has tried to make me as comfortable as possible.
Now that my nausea is calm today, there’s a lot more I want to see of the place.
“It’s a surprise, Beauty.”
I huff and frown, which only causes his smile to annoyingly widen. “Why are you smiling, Florian?” I ask with my hands on my hips. “You know I hate surprises.”
“I do know you hate them, but you’re going to love this one.”
That’s what he always says. I roll my eyes at him, frustrated that he likes to do this to me.
“Come with me,” he says, intertwining our fingers before I can respond.
I don’t hesitate to go with him as he pulls me toward the entrance of our home in Cyprus.
“Where are we going, Florian?”
“You’ll see.”
Florian wasted no time in making one of my dreams come true.
Cyprus is one place I’ve always wanted to visit, but with my dance schedule, I’ve always had to put vacationing on the back burner.
Now that I’m on maternity leave, we finally have time to do some of the things I’ve put off for years before our daughter is born.
I slide into the back seat of our car and sigh in annoyance. I’m pissed that he’s not telling me where we’re going, and it’s very annoying that he knows it irks me and doesn’t care.
After he slides in beside me, he grabs my feet, places them in his lap, and removes my sandals.
“God, Florian, that feels so good,” I moan as he massages the soles of my feet.
I know he’s trying to distract me, so I’m not irritated. It’s definitely working.
He pauses for a moment, and I can feel the intensity of his desire in the way he gazes at me. “If you moan like that again, I’m going to have to stuff your mouth full of my dick.”
Heat radiates across my face, making my skin feel like it’s on fire. I can only imagine the look on Hugo’s face upon hearing Florian’s words. The man says what he wants to say no matter who’s around. He has absolutely no filter.
“Florian! Hugo can hear you,” I whisper yell, with wide eyes, as heat sears my skin and pools between my thighs. I want to ask him to follow through with his threat once we get to wherever we are going.
“Do you think I give a damn that he can hear me?” he says, pressing a button on the handle of his door. “But, for you, I’ll fix it.”
A dark screen rises, separating us from the front of the car to give us some privacy. Before I can reply, he returns to rubbing my feet, and I forget what I wanted to say.
I close my eyes and relax. His calloused hands feel so good. I also have a lot of swelling in my feet and ankles with this pregnancy. Florian has been amazing at giving me massages to help make me more comfortable during this pregnancy.
One of his hands trails from my feet up my calf, and I moan. I open my legs a little more and scoot a little closer to him. His deep chuckle vibrates through the car, causing my eyes to pop open. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re horny.”
I roll my eyes again, letting out a sigh because he knows exactly what he’s doing.
With this pregnancy, I’ve been cranky, and the only way he’s been able to calm me down has been by giving me amazing orgasms after his amazing massages.
I’m definitely not complaining. He’s a master with his tongue, cock, and fingers.
“Well, what are you going to do about it, Mr. Larsson?”
He lets out a chuckle, grazing his fingertips along the wet folds of my pussy. “No panties?” he asks with his brow arched.
“I didn’t like that I could see them through my dress.” I open my legs wider. “And it makes it easier for you to make me feel good.”
He only smiles as he runs his fingers through my folds again, then makes small circles on my clit. “Florian…”
He pushes his fingers inside me and the sound of my wetness fills the car. “My dirty girl is so wet,” he moans, licking his lips. “Is all this for me?”
He puts a little more pressure on my clit and continues to draw small circles on the sensitive bundles of nerves, which drives me absolutely crazy. My hips move on their own, wishing he could fill me with his cock.
“Oh god, yes, baby. All for you. Just like that.”
“I wish I could lick this tight pussy.” He pushes his fingers in and out of me while he continues to masterfully play with my clit, bringing me closer to the edge. “But we don’t have much time, so if you want to come, baby, you only have a few minutes.”