Ben
ben
. . .
T he water beneath the stilts of our private hut shimmers in shifting shades of turquoise and sapphire, the late afternoon sun casting warm gold across the thatched roof and polished teak of our secluded bungalow.
Elle steps inside first, barefoot and glowing. Her white sundress clings to the curve of her belly, small but unmistakable now. Her hand instinctively moves to rest there as she walks through the room. She turns in place, her soft gasp echoing against the high-beamed ceiling. I smile at her reaction. Elle’s been here before, but not with me. Not as my wife. I appreciate the effort she puts in to act surprised by the beauty surrounding us.
I follow her in, setting down our bags and then walking to her. My arms wrap around her from behind, my hand encasing hers as she lovingly holds her bump. “Worth the wait?” My lips brush against her ear. To me, she’s been worth every painstaking, and at times, agonizing minute of uncertainty, whether it was the rocky patch we hit or my health. Getting married in the hospital room wasn’t ideal, but the wedding ceremony we had at the top of the cliff, surrounded by our family, friends, and the ripe fragrance of grapes was beyond anything I had ever thought a wedding would be.
Elle leans into me with a contented sigh, her body molding to mine perfectly. We fit, which I know is a cliché, but it’s the truth. “It’s like walking into a dream.”
We are honeymooning in Fiji, the same place JD and Jenna had. The irony is, Jenna was pregnant when they were here too.
The bungalow is open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing the endless blue ocean. Gauzy curtains dance in the salty breeze. The king-sized bed, draped in white linen and strewn with red hibiscus petals, sits in the center of the room, the setup a gift from the Davis’s.
Beyond the sliding doors, a private deck stretches out over the water, with steps leading directly into the warm lagoon.
I slide my hands over her belly and kiss her neck. “You’re the dream, Elle.”
She turns in my arms. “You always say the right things.”
“I mean every word.”
Our kiss is unhurried, a slow burn that starts as a brush of lips and deepens into something that pulls at the very core of us both. When she presses closer, I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin cotton of her dress, the way her body has softened in all the most beautiful ways. Not only is she my wife, as vowed in front of our family, but she is also carrying our children.
I pick her up, bridal-style, earning a squeal and then a soft giggle from her.
“Ben!”
“Just doing what I couldn’t do the first time.” I could barely hold her the first time we got married. Still, Elle made the time in the hospital the most memorable of my life, even though I was fighting an infection that almost killed me.
Until now.
I carry her to bed, the linen billowing from the breeze as I lay her down gently, reverently. God, I fucking love this woman. I love everything about her, even her flaws. They are what make her who she is—this fierce, loyal, incredible human.
Elle looks up at me, her eyes full of wonder and mischievousness. She has promised me everything and delivered.
I take my time undressing her, like a gift that might expire once it’s unwrapped, even though I know she’s not going anywhere.
But what if I am?
At this time, there isn’t a trace of any cancer, but I’m not in full remission for another few years. Every day, I wonder if there’s a lump forming somewhere inside my body, determined to keep me from growing old with Elle.
I slip the straps of her sundress off her tanned shoulders, letting them fall slowly. Goosebumps rise inch by inch over her flesh. She watches me, her breath catching when my fingers reach the soft curve of her breasts, full and tender from the pregnancy.
“You’re beautiful,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss the space between them, pulling the top of her dress down as I go.
She trembles. “I feel… different.”
I kiss the side of her stomach, where baby B grows. “Different for us is amazing.” I continue to undress my wife and kiss the other side of her bump, where baby A grows.
When Elle is fully bare before me, I kneel at the edge of the bed. My hands glide up her thighs while my mouth follows the trail left by my fingertips. Her body has changed, and I love every damn inch of it—her hips, fuller; her breasts, round and sensitive beneath my lips; her belly, carrying our future.
Elle reaches for me, her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me up until our mouths meet again. “Touch me, Ben,” she whispers against my lips. “I want to feel like I’m yours. I want to remember this moment forever.”
“You are mine,” I say in a low rasp. “And I’m yours.”
I stand and undress in front of her, keeping my eyes on her the entire time, basking as her tongue swipes over her lips while she takes me in. Her eyes follow my every move. There’s a hunger in her eyes, yet they’re filled with adoration. Just the sight of her watching me makes my heart hammer in my chest. When I join her on the bed, the heat between us rises like steam.
Our bodies come together slowly, gently at first, as if we’re being together for the first time. But that tenderness coils into something deeper, more urgent. Elle arches beneath me, moaning softly when I thrust inside her.
Not rushed.
Not hurried.
We’re just perfectly in sync.
Her breath catches, fingernails dig into my back, and her legs wrap tightly around me.
We move together in the rhythm of the waves outside, each thrust a vow, each kiss an offering.
“I love you,” she breathes, again and again.
I press my forehead to hers, my hand cradling her cheek. “I love you more.”
Her climax comes like a soft wave at first, a gasp, a tremble, a tightening of every muscle. And then another, deeper, more intense, that steals her breath and shatters something inside her. She cries out my name as I orgasm moments after, my release shaking through me as I hold her close, her belly between us, the babies cradled between our hearts.
We stay like this—tangled, breathless, sweating—in the warm air, surrounded by the sea-salt breeze and echoing sounds of the sea.
And then my lovely wife laughs.
It’s light, breathy, and makes me smile. “What?”
She turns onto her side to face me. “I didn’t think it could be better than the first time we did this as a married couple.”
I chuckle lightly. “This being sex?”
Elle laughs and nods, her belly moving up and down. I imagine the boys laughing with her, except for the fact that we’re naked, with a sheen of sweat on our bodies because of certain activities.
“Being that our first time as a married couple happened in a hospital room with your brother standing guard at the door, anything was going to beat that.”
Elle cups my cheek. “That moment was perfect.”
The memory was and still is scary, but I don’t need to remind her of that. She was there, holding my hand the entire time.
“You’re perfect.”
We nap in each other’s arms until the sun dips low, painting the lagoon in streaks of lavender and rose. The view from this bed is almost as breathtaking as my wife. A soft knock at the door rouses us, and I pull on a pair of linen pants to fetch our room service tray.
Elle sits up in bed, the sheet pooling around her. My steps falter as I walk toward her. She’s glowing from head to toe, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her more beautiful than she is now. Her hair is a mess of waves, her lips kissed red, and her skin is flushed from love. She looks like a goddess—my goddess—radiant.
We eat on the deck, sitting cross-legged on large, plush pillows, with plates between us. I ordered grilled reef fish wrapped in banana leaves, sweet plantains, coconut rice, and fresh mango slices dripping with juice. Elle feeds me bits of papaya between sips of iced hibiscus tea, which is her favorite.
“Everything tastes better here,” she says, licking the rest of the mango from her fingertips.
“Because you’re happy.”
“I am,” she says softly. “But I was happy before we arrived. I think now that we’ve said our vows in front of our friends and family, and we have the boys growing healthy . . .” she cradles her belly. “Life makes sense.”
Any words I can form never make it to my mouth. She’s left me speechless. I reach over the tray and take her hand, pressing it to my lips.
Later, as the stars come out, filling the night sky above like a million lit candles, we slip into the water from the steps of our deck. The lagoon is warm, like silk, and glows faintly from the moonlight.
Elle floats on her back, her belly rising above the surface while I swim circles around her. She laughs as I pull her close, my arm banding around her waist. I kiss her neck and cup her breast.
She laughs and tries to turn in my arms, but I hold her still. “You’re such a flirt.”
“We’re married. I’ve earned the right to flirt for life.”
I finally let her turn in my arms, her lips meeting mine as her legs go around my waist, and her fingers tug at the ends of my hair.
I guide her to the steps and reluctantly pull her legs away from me. Elle climbs the steps slowly, her lush ass wiggling in my face. I bite her exposed cheek, laughing as she squeals. When I’m out of the water, Elle drops the bottom of her bikini to the ground and pushes me onto the plush pillow, straddling me.
She gasps as I enter her. Her head falls back, catching the moonlight as it casts a yellowish beam across her naked body. My hands cup her tender, swollen breasts softly, with a gentle ease.
This time is different for us. It was almost like we had crossed an imaginary threshold from a couple who married in a hospital room to who we were now: a family.
Aside from the vows I made to her, I have promised to be the father to our boys that I never had. Elle and the boys will always come first for me.
And Beau. He’s pretty damn important in my life.
Elle moves slowly, like a goddess worshipping the man she loves. Her head falls back, jutting her glorious breasts forward. She cries out, falling against my chest and kissing my neck. I return the fervor and lift my hips to push into her, guiding her toward her peak, all while telling her she’s everything I need in my life.
Afterward, I carry Elle to our bed. She curls into my chest, with one leg draped over my hips. “Is it always going to be this good?”
I smile into her hair. “God, I hope not.”
She lifts her head, frowning. “Excuse me?”
“Because if it gets better… I’m going to die from happiness.”
Elle pushes my shoulder, then nestles back into the crook of my neck.
Aside from the gentle hum of the ocean and the rustle of the breeze through the gauzy linen, it’s just us, breathing in each other. I can easily say life can’t get any better, but at the end of the year, I know this will change. Elle will give birth to our boys, our children. At one point in my life I didn’t know if that would ever happen. If it wasn’t for her insisting, I would’ve never had my sperm banked.
I wouldn’t have my children growing in her womb, and a perfect future mapped out in front of me.