Epilogue
Three and a half years later…
The water was coaxing. Waves crashed against the shore in the darkness of the night as I stared at my beautiful wife. She slept on my lap without a care. I could feel her heartbeat against the side of my thigh.
The gown she wore was sheer. I slid my hand up her leg, pulling it along. Those pretty brown legs were on full display. And the ass I loved to kiss hardened my dick inside of my briefs.
I lubricated my middle finger and used my index finger to slide the g-string she wore to the side. Her reasoning for putting on panties at this point of the vacation was beyond me. Other than wanting me to take them motherfuckers off, then there was no other motive.
I parted her ass cheeks, slightly, giving my finger free range. However, there was only one hole I was interested in. I entered it. She moaned.
“Baaay– beee.”
I stroked her asshole, slowly and gently.
“Wake up,” I whispered, feeling as though I’d bust my briefs. My dick was a missile, and it was ready to launch.
Lyric didn’t reserve time to consider her thoughts or her next move.
She shoved her hand into the opening of my briefs and freed my dick.
Grateful for her generosity, I entered another finger in her ass.
The one that she’d slid my ring on. The one that let every motherfucker around know that I belonged to someone.
To someone special. To someone very special.
My band was iced out. Though I would’ve taken something simple, my wife couldn’t stomach the idea. She hand-picked every diamond on my finger. It was too much for a man like me, but so was Lyric. That’s why I loved her so much.
Spoiled.
Bratty.
Rotten.
Entitled.
Self-centered.
Vain.
But, beneath it all, that heart was gold. She’d do anything and everything for the people she cared most about. That’s why she’d kept our union a secret for so long.
What Luca had gone through for her, she refused to risk again. And just because I was ready to love her loudly, it didn’t negate the fact that she had shit she was dealing with. She was still traumatized. She was still coping. She was still trying to trust herself.
My exigency didn’t eliminate her troubles. My urgency wasn’t her emergency. My neediness wasn’t her issue. My readiness wasn’t her preparedness. My heart’s longing wasn’t her responsibility. My yearning wasn’t hers to smolder.
And as time passed, I understood that more. I understood her more. Lyric wasn’t trying to muzzle our love. She was trying to trust herself again. Her thoughts. Her feelings. Her decisions. And before she involved her family, she wanted to make sure this was forever.
“Shit,” I groaned, stroking her backside as she lowered her warm mouth onto my tool.
“Mmmm.”
She felt good to me. Inside and out. It didn’t matter the day or the location. The time or the circumstances. My wife was my world.
She bobbed her head, finding her groove. Her saliva coated me. Her eyes coaxed me. They consumed me.
Big.
Brown.
Beautiful.
Lyric was having my baby again. The pride that stemmed from her willingness to recreate with me for a third time had my chest swelled every day. And there was hardly a day that I didn’t consider the life we’d lost or the strength it took us both to free ourselves from that darkness and pain.
Her stomach was growing and so was my love for her. I used to think I couldn’t love her any more than I already did, but I was sadly mistaken.
Each day I found something new.
Each day I found something more fascinating.
A new freckle that appeared overnight.
A new strand of gray around the edges of her hair.
A new word to describe her.
A new way to surprise her.
A new sleep position.
A new emotion.
A new reason.
Lyric handled my dick with care. Though sloppy, she treated it like fine China. Her head lifted and fell over and over. My toes locked. And the moment my eyes closed, she halted.
“Ly–”
“I want to sit on it,” she moaned against the tip of my dick.
The vibrations from her voice were intoxicating.
“Sit on it, baby,” I whispered, hardly able to keep my composure.
I held both of her hands to help lift her up. Then, I made sure her core was stable by dropping my hands to her waist. When she was well-balanced, I used my left hand to push her g-string aside. Lyric lowered herself onto me, one hand wrapped around my tool to guide him into his place of residency.
My head fell back onto the headboard. My toes curled to the point of pain. I squeezed my ass cheeks together, hoping to relieve the pressure that was mounting in my sack, promising to push my semen up my shaft and into her awaiting oasis.
Up.
Down.
I placed my hand around her neck.
Up.
Down.
I brought her face to mine.
Up.
Down.
I shoved my tongue down her throat.
Up.
Down.
I twirled it around her mouth.
Up.
Down.
I pulled back, breathlessly.
Up.
Down.
I began drilling into Lyric from beneath.
“Oh God.”
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I grunted.
“Yes, baby.”
In.
Out.
“Baby–” she cried.
“I’m right here. Always right here.”
In.
Out.
I could feel my nut rising.
Her engorged breasts freed themselves from her gown.
In.
Out.
I grabbed one, pulling it into my mouth.
“Yesss. Yessss.”
In.
Out.
I swallowed the milk that leaked from her nipples, relieving her of the pain she must’ve felt during the absence of our daughter. To even her load, I placed my mouth on the other nipple two minutes later. Her golden liquid spilled into my mouth.
Anything for you, my love.
This shit hadn’t just started. It had always been this way. Since kids. Lyric had always been a priority of mine–secretly.
In.
Out.
My eyes were locked on that pretty face of hers again. I used my left thumb to press against her sensitivity.
“I love you,” she rushed out. “I love you so much. I love you.”
“Til death.”
In.
Out.
“I’m– I’m– Uhhhhh.”
She didn’t last. I didn’t last. We weren’t meant to last. Not tonight. Maybe another night. But that pussy was too wet and she was looking too good with them titties bouncing in my face.
Lyric
The Maldives was as beautiful as it was the first time we visited together.
I imagined it was the reason Keanu had chosen this location to celebrate three years of marriage.
As I stretched the nude bikini over my milky boobs, I was reminded of our time here all those years ago. Before our secret was out.
Before the miscarriage. Before the extravagant wedding.
Before our daughter, KJ. Before discovering my pregnancy with our second daughter, Love.
We’d been here, and I’d fallen head over heels for him.
I’d manifested this moment. I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was heavily intoxicated but not out of my mind that day.
“What are you doing?” I chuckled.
“Waiting for you to climb on,” Keanu informed me.
“On your back?” I was utterly amused, throwing my head back in laughter. He couldn’t be serious. I imagined it was a joke until I realized he wasn’t moving.
“On my back,” he clarified.
After a few seconds, reality sunk in and I understood it was far from a joke. If I didn’t want to walk, I didn’t have to. Without expressing it, that’s exactly what Keanu was telling me.
With a silly smile on my face, I climbed onto his back and shifted until I was comfortable. It wasn’t until then that he stood tall and gripped my legs tighter. I couldn’t help myself, drunk and a bit out of my mind, I kissed the side of his face.
“Can you take us a picture and a video? I want to send it to Ever.”
Someone has to see just how much this man loves me and how much I love him back.
The thought registered. There wasn’t anyone else I could scream to the top of my lungs about Keanu and me, so Ever was subjected to my shenanigans. She knew everything. She was the one who convinced me to write the message to Keanu in the first place.
From the moment we encountered him at the mall while picking up clothes for her first date with Luca, she’d recognized the desire in both of our eyes. For so many years, we’d suppressed it, but that had all run its course. We were happily in one another’s arms for once and it felt so damn good.
Before taking off, Keanu dug into my purse and retrieved my phone.
He held it up to my face so that it would unlock.
When it did, he began snapping pictures one after another.
After I gave him the green light, he began recording instead.
As the video began rolling, I squeezed his neck a little tighter, kissing all over his handsome face, and screaming into the camera.
I felt like a mad woman, but for good reason.
“I’m going to marry this man and give him chocolate babies. Girls. We’re having girls,” I yelled into the camera.
I didn’t have a care in the world at the moment. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the limitless feeling that I had and how much of a beautiful feeling it was. It was everything and the complete opposite of the pain that I’d felt in my last relationship.
Manifestation. It’s real. The two beautiful girls that I wanted to give Keanu had come to fruition.
Keanu Jade was almost two years old. The little one that was still cozy in my belly had only eleven weeks before she made her debut.
We were impatiently waiting for Love to enter our lives.
I prayed that she was as sweet as her sister with the same sandy skin and big, beautiful orbs.
The thought of my little baby had me missing her and my boobs lactating without my permission.
I’d happily jumped on the bandwagon and breastfed KJ.
She wasn’t quite ready to wean, and I didn’t mind a bit.
With Love on the way, it would be helpful to continue nursing so that I didn’t have the same sensitivity issues I had when I began feeding Keanu.
The wetness of my bikini top didn’t stop me from stepping out onto the deck with my seven-month pregnant belly in search of my husband. He wasn’t hard to find. I followed the smoke from the blunt that he quickly put out at the sight of me.
I stepped into the jacuzzi where he was waiting for me, lowering my body until I was seated on his lap.
His hands wrapped around my lower back instantly before cupping my ass.
I couldn’t resist the mouth-splitting smile that formed.
Still, after well over four years, his presence still melted me like a warm stick of butter.
“Hi,” I greeted.
“Hi,” he responded.
With his right hand, he rubbed my growing belly.
When his eyes closed and his head lowered, I knew exactly what time it was.
It was his time with God. After losing our first child, more of his time was spent with the Man upstairs.
As a family, we prayed relentlessly. And we’d been blessed abundantly.
Following suit, I, too, closed my eyes. When I felt Keanu’s lips on mine, I knew that our brief prayer had ended. Contentment covered me. This was it. This was my life. And, I loved it more and more each day. Though the journey here wasn’t ideal, it was mine and it was well worth my happy ending.
“How’d you sleep?” He questioned.
“Like a baby.”
His smile lit my entire world. He popped a piece of gum into his mouth.
“Where the heck did you get gum from?”
“Your purse.”
“Is that where you’ve been stealing it from this entire time?”
He nodded.
“I replace it, too.”
The thought hadn’t occurred to me. I’d never run low on bubble gum yet I hadn’t purchased any in years.
“You sneaky thing.”
You considerate thing.
You lovely thing.
You perfect thing.
My thing.
“What else have you been replenishing without my knowledge?”
“Your favorite fragrances. Deodorant. Body wash. I like that watermelon one you love. Hand soap. That brown night gown you love. I bought every one they had in your size. When I see it getting a little snug on you, I switch it out. During pregnancy, I go up a size, cause I bought them, too.”
“With plans to keep me pregnant.”
“I mean–”
“Yeah,” I chuckled.
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay, baby, I love carrying your children. You can keep me pregnant as long as you understand you are the primary parent. Always.”
He shook his head. “You love hearing yourself lie, huh?”
“No.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“To make myself feel better.”
“You feed them, baby, and I’ll take it from there. Same deal. New day.”
He was right. Keanu was the ideal partner, but he was a dreamy father. He was involved. He took charge. He changed diapers. He stayed up all night when our daughter couldn’t get to sleep. He cuddled. He built doll houses and toys.
He had tea parties. He painted rooms and changed them around to fit our growing family. He put money aside. He rubbed my feet. He wiped my tears during postpartum.
He learned to plait my hair. He did my nightly skincare routine when I couldn’t bear the thought. He washed my body. He catered to my heart. He made my life as a mother as easy as it could be.
“Thank you.”
“For what, baby?”
“Being everything I’ve always needed.”
“Everything you’ve always deserved,” he explained, cupping my chin.
“I love you.”
“Til death.”