Chapter Six
Lucas
Peregrine stands in the doorway with the air of a man arriving precisely on time for something.
“Peregrine.” I get up off the tiles, which takes longer than it should, and my knee makes a sound I intend to ignore for the foreseeable future.
“Don't get up on my account.” He is already shaking out the camping stool one-handed, a thermos wedged under his arm. There’s a paperback with the cover folded back on itself sticking out of his coat pocket.
“I said to myself, Peregrine, that dog will do the whole thing at two in the morning in a strange house with nobody sitting with her, and then where will you be?”
“I thought the vet said next week?” I raise a brow at him. My mother’s brother has always been oblivious to what’s happening around him. Especially when it comes to his dogs.
“She did, but you know what it’s like…well, I suppose you don’t.
Babies come on their own schedule,” he declares.
He plants the stool by the wall and surveys the arrangement on the floor: the two folded blankets, the eiderdown, the bowl of water, the lamp, and Nester lying along Rochelle's thigh.
“Well, now. Look at that. She's never taken to anybody that fast, not even me.”
“She is beautiful,” Rochelle says quietly, giving Nester one last stroke on the head before taking my hand and allowing me to help her up.
“That's affection, that is.” Peregrine nods his head to Rochelle and unscrews the thermos. The whole room fills with the smell of strong tea. “This room is perfect. My idea, you know. Cool floor, dark, safely tucked away.”
“You're a natural canine midwife,” I deadpan.
Rochelle makes a sound she turns into a cough.
Peregrine pours himself a cup of tea and watches us with no comprehension whatsoever. “You've been marvelous, my dear. Absolutely marvelous. Lucas, has the marquee gone up?”
“It went up yesterday.”
“There you are, then.” He toasts nobody in particular. “It'll all be fabulous.”
“Vet's on standby from tomorrow. His number is on the board in the kitchen.” I put my hand at the small of Rochelle's back to steer her past the stool without treading on the dog, and I leave it there a half second longer than I need to.
“I'll send Mrs. Ivers down with a proper blanket. If anything happens, ring the house phone in the back passage. Don't come up the stairs shouting.” I don’t add ‘like a maniac,’ but it’s inferred.
“Would I?”
“You would.”
He is already pulling his paperback from his pocket. As I pull the door to behind us, he says, to Nester rather than to me, “Lovely girl, that one.”
The back passage is cold at this time of night.
Rochelle walks beside me past the boot room and the old bell board, and neither of us says anything until the kitchen, where the range is still throwing out heat and Mrs. Ivers has left a cloth over the proving basket.
Every light is switched off apart from the one above the sink.
“He has absolutely no idea,” Rochelle says. “He interrupted us and then complimented me on my dog handling.”
“He'll tell my mother tomorrow that you're marvelous with animals, and she'll be confused as to how he knows that.”
Rochelle laughs, low, and rubs her palms up her arms.
We go up the east stairs. The house has already begun its nightly cycle of sounds.
The floorboards in the attic creaking, the old iron pipe to the master suite bathroom clunking, the clock only chiming once on the hour between midnight and six am.
I have walked this staircase ten thousand times, but tonight I’m aware of it in a different way.
Four doors from mine, she stops with her hand on the handle of the blue room.
“Elsie put everything back,” she says. “When I came in, she looked on the brink of tears.”
“My mother shouldn’t have asked her to move you in the first place.”
Rochelle turns around and leans her shoulder blades against the door. “You could have let them move me. It would have been easier for you.”
“That’s not the point,” I counter.
She watches me for a moment, waiting to see if I’ll elaborate further.
Though I’m not sure I can. What am I supposed to say?
If I tell her this is my house and my mother was overstepping, I’ll seem controlling and arrogant.
If I tell her that I feel like the blue room is hers and it wouldn’t be right for someone else to use it while she is here, that would come across like I’ve lost my mind.
“There is another room I could use,” she says, lifting her chin slightly. “If you meant what you said earlier. Or you could leave, again.”
“Rochelle.” I shake my head from side to side, wondering how I’ll ever undo the damage of leaving her in the library.
“I won’t be made a fool of again, Lucas. You’ve already done that twice.”
I put my hand flat on the door beside her head. Her bright eyes lift to mine, and the vulnerability in them almost breaks me.
“I want to hear you say it,” I tell her. “Plainly. Because if I take you to my bed I'm not going to be able to hold back any longer, and I need to know you’re okay with everything that means.”
“I want this.” Her hand comes up and takes a fistful of my shirt, the way she took my lapels four years ago, and my whole body remembers it.
“I want you to take me to your room, and I want you to take me. I've wanted it since before the kiss in the library, I just never let myself believe you’d want me the same way.”
“Then understand what you're agreeing to.” My voice has gone somewhere I don't recognize. “If you do this, you're mine. Not just for the night or the wedding. Nobody else's hands will ever be on you. You’ll be mine, Rochelle. Say you understand that.”
She looks at me for a long, level moment, then she smiles, and it isn't shy at all.
“You'd better be prepared to be mine as well,” she says. “I'm not sharing you with any other woman just because she comes from your world and I don’t.”
I lean my forehead against hers and close my eyes. “You might not come from my world, Rochelle, but you became my world that night four years ago.”
She kisses me then, making the first move like last night, taking control and giving up control in equal measure.
I wrap my arms around her, let my hands find the curve of her ass, and lift her until her legs wrap around me. I carry her to my room, and she reaches behind her to search out and turn the doorknob, pushing the door to my room open.
I get it shut with my heel and lie her down on my bed. Her hair fans around her like a wavy halo. She is beautiful. All soft curves and sass.
“Why did you do that last night?” I ask, unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it off.
“What?” she asks, lifting onto her elbows.
“Come to the library and present yourself to me…” My belt makes a swooshing sound as I pull it from my trousers.
She hesitates for a moment, her skin flushing slightly. “I didn’t know you were in there. But when I saw what you were doing, my body wanted you before my brain could say no.”
“Undress for me,” I say. “I want to watch.”
She sits up, pulling her T-shirt from the waistband of her trousers and lifting it over her head.
She tosses it aside and then shuffles her hips to wriggle her trousers off.
Her plain white bra and panties look luminous in the low light of my room.
I flick on the bedside lamp, wanting to see more of her. All of her.
I kick off my shoes and drop my trousers, palming my length over the top of my boxers as I move to the bottom of the bed.
“Get yourself comfortable,” I instruct, “Then play with yourself.”
She moves into the middle of the bed, removes her bra with one hand, and lies back into the pillows.
Her tits are amazing, heavy and full, and so much more than I imagined.
I drop my boxers and take myself in my hand, stroking once, firmly, from base to tip, squeezing out a bead of precum.
Rochelle’s fingertips brush over her chest, between those ample tits and over her stomach. She uses the other hand to pull the gusset of her panties aside, and then those finger tips stroke over her already creamy center.
“You have the most delicious pussy,” I say, thinking back to the taste of her last night, my cock twitching its agreement.
Her eyelids flutter, and she drags her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down.
Her fingers dip into her cunt, dragging out more of her thick juices and my balls tighten at the sight.
“Don’t you want to put your cock in me?” she asks, not taking her eyes from it.
I moan. “More than you could ever know. I’m so hungry for that pretty cunt all the time. I want to sink so deep into you, fuck you until you forget your name, breed you until you’re round with me, keep you in my bed forever.”
Now she moans, her eyes partly closing as her mouth opens into a soft ‘o’.
“Don't go quiet on me,” she says, panting slightly as her fingers work her clit. She is so wet, she is glistening with it.
I bring my other hand to my shaft, beating myself with both hands now, getting myself to the edge, then stopping.
“I'm going to fill you so full,” I grunt, while forcing the pleasure that’s built to subside. “I’m going to fill your creamy pussy over and over and over.”
“Please, Lucas,” her fingers move faster and faster now, her thighs quivering as she gets close. I saw her come apart last night, how her whole body responded to the strength of the orgasm I gave her.
The memory makes more precum drip from the tip of my solid cock.
“I need you inside me,” she moans.
That’s all it takes to have me climbing up the bed and lining myself up with her slit.
Her entrance was so tight around my tongue last night. For a second I hesitate and look at the round, blunt edge of my cock. I rub it over her and her eyes roll back a little on another moan.
“Please, Lucas,” she begs again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I admit, but she is already wriggling downwards, pressing against me.
“It’s okay,” she says, lifting her knees more, and placing each hand on either side of her, pulling herself open for me. “I need it.”
I press forward until the head is inside her warmth, and we both groan. I go slow, pushing more of me into her until I’m bottomed out and her face is slack with arousal.
“God, I feel so full,” she whispers. “It’s like I can feel you everywhere.
” Her head drops back onto the pillows, and she tilts her hips, arching her back on a longer moan.
“I don’t think I can last long,” she says, her body moving now though I’m not entirely sure she is in control of it.
Her pelvis tilts and rocks and her cunt grips me tight.
“That’s good.” I have to force the words out of my throat because I’m suing ever bit of willpower to stop myself from nutting into her before she finishes.
“Do you really want to fill me?” she asks, her voice almost a plea now, a whine of desperation.
“Tell me, Lucas, tell me how badly you want to fill my pussy.” She is rocking harder now and my vision is starting to blue at the edges.
Her own movements are making her tits rock and her large nipples are peaked, making my mouth water.
Her hand shoots out, grabbing onto the duvet and twisting it in her fingers. “Fuck, Lucas. Fuck me!”
The last of my will power frays and snaps and drag my cock out all the way to the tip and ram back into her hard enough that her tits bounce almost to her chin.
“Yes,” she cries out, her other hand going to my ass and pulling me closer, getting me as deep as she can. “Again,” she demands.
I comply. Over and over and over until there’s nothing left but the sensation of her warm cunt squeezing me. Then something changes, she tightens in waves, fluttering around my shaft before she arches from the bed with a scream that breaks part way.
My balls don’t stand a chance. They release everything I have, spurt after spurt as she arches against me in waves, dragging my cock impossibly deeper, sucking me dry until my cock shudders and softens with the exertion.
She is spent, her body twitching as I wilt from her.
I lower myself down the bed, keeping her legs pressed apart with my hands, and watch her swollen pussy as it quivers. Our mixed juices leak from her, and I scoop them up with two fingers and slide them in.
“That’s it Babygirl,” I say gently. “You keep all my thick cum inside you.” I pull a pillow from beside her with my free hand and tell her to lift her ass just enough so I can place it under her.
“I’m going to fill you again as soon as I can,” I promise, kissing her mound, then running my tongue over each of her lips.
She shivers and moans again. Quieter now as she slips into sleep.
I manage to reach the blanket at the bottom of the bed, and pull it over her while keeping my fingers exactly where they are. Then I settle down between her legs and make myself comfortable, because I’m going to worship this pussy all night long.