Chapter 39 #2
“Not yet, pretty girl. On the next contraction,” I promise, feeding her my cock while the thumb of one hand strokes her clit, and my palm rests on the curve of her belly.
“You’re fucking divine, Gracie Ravenshaw,” I growl, feeling her walls crush me.
“Jack, I’m so close. I don’t think I can hold it,” she warns, so desperate to come that her toes curl.
“Relax, don’t tense. Just breathe.” I feel her clamp around my shaft and have to remind myself to take things slow.
“Fuck, Jack, it’s a contraction.” Her mouth gapes open, and she stares at me, confused as all that pleasure and pain combine.
“Be a good girl; let me have it,” I encourage her, stroking her clit harder and keeping my cock fully inside her.
“It feels so intense.” Her belly goes hard under my hand again, and despite all that’s happening to her body, she starts thrusting her hips, riding out her orgasm and her contraction on my cock at the same time.
“That's a good girl, Gracie, so fucking good. Take what you need, princess.” I can feel myself getting closer. Fucking my girl while she’s in labour is, without doubt, the most erotic, intimate thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Fuck, I’m going to come. Where do you want me, Gracie?”
“Belly,” she just about manages, and just as her body starts to relax, I quickly pull out and let my cock land against her swollen stomach, just in time for me to explode all over her stretched-tight skin.
My dirty duchess watches in fascination as I milk her tits between my thumb and finger, forcing them to leak onto her stomach so I can massage it into her skin with my cum.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful, Mrs. Ravenshaw,” I tell her, looking down at her glistening belly and fucked-swollen pussy.
“We’re making excellent progress,” Dr. Stratton tells her, pulling her hand from between her legs and out of the water, while I keep my forehead pressed against Gracie's and rub her shoulders.
“Five centimetres. You're officially in established labour,” she updates us.
“Only five?” Gracie sounds disappointed. “It’s been hours; these contractions are getting stronger. Check again,” she orders, glancing over her shoulder; then, gripping the edge of the bath when another pain ripples through her.
“I’m quite sure. Gracie, I know it seems like you've been going at this a long time, with little result, but you really are doing well. Some women take days to pass the latent phase.” Dr. Stratton’s encouragement does nothing for my girl, who raises her head from where it’s fallen between her arms and rolls her eyes at me.
“I’ll call the midwives who are on standby to get here; we can always get you some gas and air?” Dr. Stratton suggests again, but Gracie shakes her head.
“I want to save that for when I really need it,” she explains, rolling back onto her back when the pain subsides. “We don’t need more people here. I want it just to be us.” She looks up at me, and I can see how scared she is.
“Everything is going as well as it possibly could; I can stay out of your way and just pop in to do my routine checks. The midwives can stay downstairs just to be on hand.” She strokes Gracie's arm reassuringly and explains things way better than I could. If I had my way, I’d have every medical professional in London in here.
“Baby is happy, mum's progressing wonderfully, and dad’s keeping it all together.”
And although I don’t fully agree with her, on the keeping it together part, I smile at her gratefully.
“We’ll call if we need you.” Gracie looks shattered but still manages to emphasise the ‘if’. I hate that there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for her.
“Why’s it taking so long?” she moans, rolling her head back against the bath once we’re alone again.
“It just feels like a long time because you're doing all the hard work. You heard what she said, Gracie; you're making good progress.”
“If I was doing amazing, I'd have pushed this kid out by now,” she huffs, looking all flustered as she tries to sit up.
“What are you doing?” I try my best to help her.
“I need to get out, I'm getting too hot in here.”
I help her stand and give her a towel. Then, watching her walk circles around the bath with her hand pressed into her back, I try to figure out what I could do to make this easier.
“Gracie, do you want to try squatting or the ball?” I suggest.
“No.” She shakes her head in frustration.
“Lie on the bed so I can cool you down.” I dash into the bathroom for a hand towel, drenching it with cold water and wringing it out in the sink.
When I return, she’s climbed back on the bed and is resting on all fours.
“Here comes another.” She grips the headboard and starts to moan. “Fuck, they’re getting strong.”
I climb onto the mattress behind her and place the towel over her back, stroking her through the pain.
“Gracie, just tell me what you need.” I hate feeling so fucking useless.
“Put your fingers inside me again; stroke my clit. I don’t know.” Her voice is strained, like she’s still contracting.
“Shall we wait for this one to pa–”
“Just fucking do it, Jack!” she snaps back at me over her shoulder, and I do as she asks, carefully pressing two fingers inside her and not knowing what to expect.
“Holy shit, you feel different," I tell her, swallowing my shock.
“How do you mean?” she growls back at me.
“You're just getting softer; I can feel you opening up,” I explain, hoping it will encourage her.
“That’s helping,” she tells me, as I reach my other hand around her hips so I can stroke her clit.
“Just breathe, baby. Breathe and relax for me. You're doing so good.” I keep feeding her my fingers, feeling her getting wetter as the contraction subsides. She reaches her head around to kiss me, and I fill her mouth with my tongue, kissing her until I feel her start to tighten again.
“Another one already,” she starts to sob.
“It’s okay, we’ll get through it together. I’m here.” I keep stroking her walls with my fingers, feeling her whole body stiffen as another contraction hits its peak. “You want me to stop?” I check when her body stops rocking against my hand.
“No, keep going; make me come again.” She’s close, I can hear it in her voice, and when I take my hand from her clit, and wrap it around her throat instead, I know the perfect way to make her finish.
“Come for your husband, Gracie. Show him what a good girl you are,” I growl into her ear, as I fuck my fingers as deep as I can get them, and the long moan she makes isn’t out of pain, it’s all fucking pleasure.
“Good girl, good fucking girl. Soak these fucking fingers.” I wait until she’s finished before I kiss her cheek and, as I slowly slide my fingers from her pussy, the gush that follows after them makes us both jump.
“Shit!” I look between her legs, and when I see that the plastic sheet covering the mattress beneath us is drenched, I quickly look back up to her.
“Gracie, I think your waters just broke,” I tell her, not knowing why I’m so fucking shocked. It’s to be expected during labour.
“You did say to soak your fingers.” She smiles awkwardly over her shoulder.