Chapter 35
Elijah
We wake in the early morning hours...well, I wake.
My wife is lying half atop me, and I’m clinging to her as though she’s a life raft.
This is our norm since the first night we spent together.
I swear, I really wasn’t a cuddler before her.
Even in a half sentient state of being, my body knows it needs hers.
My left hand is already squeezing one soft globe of her ass.
I helped her strip her travel clothes off sometime in the middle of the night, so she’s nude now.
As am I. Kneading the warm flesh beneath my hand, I lightly run the other hand up the smooth skin of her back.
Goosebumps prickle all over her body with the movement.
She’s starting to squirm a bit, and I know it’s only moments before my wife is fully awake.
My wife. Those words. I love to think them.
I love to say them. I love even more to hear someone else refer to her as ‘your wife’ or ‘Mrs. Washington’, which has been the case most often since we wed.
My hand reaches the nape of her neck, continuing on until my fingers are entwined in her hair. Pulling her hair so that her half open eyes are gazing into mine, I place a kiss on her brow.
“Good morning, Mrs. Washington.”
“Good morning, husband.”
That one got me right in the dick. A power bolt to the nutsack, if you will, and this woman knows it. Every time she’s used the word on me so far, I’ve had her twisted up in a pleasing new position, and this time will be no exception.
Our rental has a pool in the back. The moment I saw it, I knew what we would be doing with our mornings. My wife and I have enjoyed many a pool shags pre-nuptials, so it’s time we break in her new name with a nice cool dip, sans swimsuits.
She’s slung over my should in 0.026 seconds and we’re on our way to the pool. Vaughn lets out a “Whoop” when I pull her from the bed but doesn’t ask any questions as I carry her out back. She’s learned to let me lead.
Settling my naked ass onto the fiberglass bench inside the pool, I pull Vaughn’s slick body across my lap.
She’s straddling me now, and I’m kissing her as though I might run out of her.
Like she’s the key to my survival. She is.
Our tongues war for dominance as my wife rubs her wet cunt back and forth, seeking friction against my already throbbing dick.
Our moans mix in the air, and her writhing threatens to unravel me.
My hand finds her clit and pulls, eliciting a gasp from her mouth.
Systematically and with practiced precision, two of my fingers massage and tug on her clit while my other two fingers plunge into her cunt.
This causes her hips to move more frantically above me.
It’s satisfying to recognize the movements in her hips as the signal of her impending orgasm.
There’s nothing about this body that isn’t burned into my memory.
The sounds, the scents, the movements it makes. I know and love them all. I crave them.
“Eli...there.”
My growl would frighten anyone else. Not Vaughn. Vaughn’s response to this guttural sound from my throat is to further soak the fingers I have inside her.
“I don’t need you to tell me where or how. I know. This body is my instrument. I know how to make it sing.”
“Ahhhhh.” A full body tremor consumes her as she shakily continues moving her hips above me. I draw out her orgasm with continued pressure on her clit while hooking my fingers inside her. Draining the last bit of thrill from her.
Before she can settle back into my lap, I thrust up into her tight, wet cunt.
She’s so warm and wet. Every inch of her molds perfectly to my cock because she was made for me.
I wasn’t born here, but I’ll die here. Whatever deals have to be made so that I can leave this world while making love to my wife, consider them sealed.
Vaughn’s mouth is hovering over mine, open in a silent groan.
Lifting her ass, I bring her all the way to the tip of my shaft before sinking her back down again.
Over and over and over again until she’s screaming and her head is thrown back.
She has my hair gripped tightly in her hands, and she’s using it to hang on to me as I almost violently rocket up into her while slamming her back down onto my dick.
Impaling her until she can’t close her mouth or keep her eyes open.
“Vaughn.”
THRUST
“My.”
THRUST
“Fucking.”
THRUST
“Wife.”
THRUST
“Ah, Eliiiiii.”
She detonates like a bomb, screaming my name loudly before shouting “Please” even though we both know she has no idea what she’s begging for.
I continue to growl from the effort and pleasure with every plunge of my cock as I chase my own release until I cum inside my wife with a roar of finality.
Pumping jerkily into her two more times, I’m fully spent.
We both sit there, breathing loudly, trying to regain some composure before we speak or move.
Vaughn is still short of breath when she says, “if that was my wedding gift, thank you.”
“It wasn’t. That’s still inside.”
Suddenly, her previously weary body straightens, and her eyes light up.
“Truly?”
“Mmmhhhm. It’s in my suitcase. Haven’t had a second to unpack it.”
Water sloshes all around us as she leaps from my lap fighting waves of her own making to reach the steps. She’s out and leaves a veritable river in her wake without a second thought as she slips and slides across the hardwood floors on her way to our room. Fucking child when it comes to presents.
Stepping inside the room, I see her on the floor already making a mess of my neatly organized clothing and toiletries as she tears through everything looking for her gift.
She finds it at the very bottom meticulously wrapped in dark, thick floral wrapping paper.
She squeals at the sight of it. Without moving from her perch on the floor, she viciously shreds the paper from the box.
Inside the box is a square foam casing. The contents of this package have taken me more than a year to put together.
I wasn’t about to risk damaging it in travel.
Her hands still, and her smile drops when she sees what’s inside. It’s a book. The title is “The Dreaded End”. The author is Vaughn Washington. Her quiet gasp is almost inaudible, but I hear it. Attune to her everything, I hear it. Opening the front cover makes a soft cracking sound.
Inside the front cover are various illustrations relating to the content of the book.
The first page is the title and some of those same illustrations arranged together.
Then the title again with the publisher information.
She looks up at me. Confused, before looking back down at the book. The next page is the dedication.
Dedication: For my mom, the woman who always said I could but didn’t get to be here to see that I did.
Vaughn told me all about her mom and what an incredible person she was.
She obviously had to be to have raised such an incredible woman.
Vaughn’s dad was never in the picture, and she didn’t have any siblings.
Her mother filled both parent roles until she got sick when Vaughn was only seventeen.
Thinking back on a teenage Vaughn, left all alone to make her own way in the world, brings tears to my eyes once more.
Her mom fought hard to make it to Vaughn’s high school graduation, and she did.
A fighter, just like her daughter. Unfortunately, she passed away one week after that graduation.
Vaughn has never looked for her father, and she says she never will.
I’d like to make the man miserable, but I believe Vaughn when she says her mother was more than enough, and she hasn’t spent a second of her life wishing for more.
She continues flipping through pages. Glossary, Prologue, Chapter One. She continues to thumb through every single page one at a time. Not reading but seeing them. Finally, she reaches the end, and not a word has been spoken between us.
“How?” It’s all she can say. So many emotions are warring for dominance on her face. My favorites are awe and love.
“You read it to me. A single chapter at a time, you told me your story. You went back and filled in the gaps that I missed when I had questions. You did it. Every word in that book came from your head. All I did was put it together and get the right people for editing, interior and cover design, and of course...publishing.”
“Infinity? You got Infinity to publish our book? How?”
“Your book, and that was definitely the easy part. I brought them a complete book. I didn’t realize they’d handle the design and all that until later.
Their editor read seven chapters and said, “we’re in”.
From there it was just a few phone calls and some shipping things back and forth.
It won’t actually hit shelves for another month, but it’s done. You did it.”
She’s still naked. We both are. We stay still. Looking at each other from across the room.
She closes the book in her lap, coming to me and wrapping her arms around me.
“Thank you.”
“I’m just the middleman. You did this. This is your book.”
She’s laughs quietly, and her shoulders shake with it.
“I never got so much as a chapter out on paper.”
“That’s it, though. That’s all you were missing. You had that entire book, start to finish, all in your head, waiting to be put on paper. That was my only job. Get home, get the next chapter typed out. That’s it.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know who got the thing published then. Thank that guy for me.”
“Just doing my job as your husband. If your dream doesn’t come true, who do you think has to answer for that?”
Her captivating smile lights up everything inside me. My rainbow.
“You’re beautiful, little Devil. To the depths of your soul, you are beautiful.”
Somewhere between where we’re standing and the bed, we manage to get tangled up in each other again, and we’re not able to emerge from the bedroom until midafternoon.
“So...beach?”
“Definitely. I just want to read some of the book first.”
“Sure. Pack it. We’ll take it with us.”
She looks shocked and mildly horrified.
“We can’t take this to the beach! Look at it. It’s beautiful. There are monkeys down there. I read about them. Nosy little bastards. No way am I taking my book down there to get stolen by Rafiki.”
My laughter carries to her, and the dimples soften her outrage a bit.
“Okay. No problem. We’ll wait.”
“No. Don’t wait on me. Go down. See the beach. I won’t be long.”
“I’m not going to the beach without you. There’s a huge stone staircase you have to walk down to get there.”
“And?”
“Aaaand you could fall. Or someone could take you between here and the stairs.”
“First of all, I’m the most skilled walker you know. I could descend those stairs in six-inch heels and still beat you to the bottom. Second, take me? Who? You killed everybody who would try. Plus, I’m a badass now. Heaven help anyone who takes me on.”
She’s the reason I smile all the time. I’ve always had a permanent grin affixed to my face, but now it reaches my soul. Just like she does.
“Ugh. I don’t know, V. I’d rather wait here for you. I don’t even care if we make it to the beach, but I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“You’re being silly. I don’t want you here hovering. If I scream, or cry, or throw the book, I’d prefer there be no witnesses to my meltdown.”
“Pffft. Okay. Fine. Keep your phone on and call me before you head down. I’ll meet you.”
She gives me an epically dramatic eye roll before conceding.
“Damn.” These stairs are much steeper than I realized. Vaughn could definitely beat me down these if we’re both wearing six-inch heels.
She was right about the monkeys, too. There are several down here. Is that a weasel?
Google: beach animal resembling a weasel
“Ah. A mongoose.” I knew that.
The beach weasel keeps getting closer and closer.
“Nosy little bastard, aren’t you.”
I’m setting out the chairs and laying towels across them. As I pierce the sand with the pole of the umbrella, the sand mammal uses this moment of inattention to rifle through my beach bag.
“Stop it. You little shit. Hey! Bring that back!”
He took my damn phone. Chasing a whiskered demon all over the beach was not how I planned to spend the afternoon.
The situation quickly spirals out of my control.
Before I know it, I’ve been chasing Timon all over hell and back.
This little fucker is fast. I’m out of breath, I’ve fallen twice, and I’m still no closer to getting my phone back.
I’m convinced the little jerk is messing with me, so I decide to feign disinterest and go back to sit in my chair.
Sure enough, he watches me from afar for a few minutes before incrementally creeping closer and closer to where I’m seated.
Finally, he’s almost within touching distance. This little meerkat of terror makes a soft squeaking noise and holds my phone above his head, twisting it back and forth. He’s still too far to risk it. My multiple dive attempts have taught me that he can dart out of the way quicker than a bullet.
He continues to creep closer until his thieving hand is on my shin and the other clutches my phone, resting on the sand. He lets out a little MEEP, and I slowly lean forward, trying not to spook the rat bastard.
“How ‘bout a trade between friends? Huh? I’ve got a protein bar in the bag. It’s all yours if you give me the phone. Sound good?”
His tiny hand leaves my shin to cover his chest in dramatic offense.
“Okay. Okay. Not a protein guy. That’s fine. My wife has some chocolate and sugary shit in here, too. How about an orange slice? It’s basically chewy orange sugar.”
Mr. rodent of the tropics ticks his chin up, displaying that might be of interest to him, so I grab the bag and shake it between us.
He drops the phone, reaching for the bag, and I make my move.
I throw the bag of candy at him, toppling all nine inches of him to the ground so I can reach out and nab my phone.
Quickly, I look to see if I have any texts from Vaughn, but there’s nothing.
Playing my part as the unwilling participant in this good guy, bad guy struggle of male dominance has taken much longer than I realized.
It’s been well over an hour, and I haven’t heard from Vaughn.
She can spend a whole day getting lost in a book.
She does it all the time. I’m just surprised that she hasn’t wanted to come down to the beach by now.
“Damn it!”
My phone is too hot to make a call. Concern or paranoia or whatever it is gets the best of me, and I decide to make the trek back up the stone steps to check on Vaughn.
“I’m going to head back up real quick and check on my wife. We’ll be back in a bit.”
Talking to a damn beach pirate.