33. Vincent
“Yes, yes. Just like that,” Wendy moaned into my ear with her head tilted back, exposing her sweat-coated neck. I was positioned behind Wendy, hooking one of her legs under my arm as my body pressed against her back.
Pre-pregnant Wendy loved sex. But, five-month pregnant Wendy was not only insatiable, but she couldn’t get enough of my dick, as her pussy clamped around me, always a sign she was chasing her third orgasm during tonight’s fuck session. My hands found their way down her back, tracing her spine as our bodies rocked in sync. The dim glow from the nightlight bathed the room in a soft amber hue, casting intricate shadow patterns on the ceiling. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, scanning my face for any sign of fatigue. But I was far from done. I wanted, needed to make this night last forever.
We were back in Newport for a babymoon. Thanks to the town and permit issues, we decided to stay in the investment property that hadn’t quite reached its bed and breakfast status. But that was okay. For now, we’d enjoy the beauty of this historical fortress, and I could always flip it into a seasonal rental property.
“Fuck, Vincent. I’m so close.” A lazy moan escaped Wendy as she threw her head back and gazed at me with those bottomless orbs. I recognized that look thrown my way, and I knew what she wanted. Wendy wanted me to be rough, wanted me to degrade her, but ever since she became pregnant, I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to call her anything but gorgeous. Of course, even when calling her my good little slut, she was the most beautiful creature to me, but something in me refused to bring myself to utter those words she yearned for. And forget about collaring her neck. For now, Wendy was my ultimate sanctuary; all I wanted to do was worship her.
I licked my fingers, trailing them along the curves of her body and over the swell of her stomach until I reached the apex of her spread thighs. I reached between and pressed against her swollen clit, rubbing slowly as a tortured cry escaped through her lips. As soon as the sound slipped from her mouth, something in me snapped, and all I wanted to do was twist her hair in my hand and jerk her head back until the veins in her neck threatened to explode from her taut skin.
“Look at your pussy take my cock like a good girl,” I growled, pressing my forehead against hers, my hand stationary against her clit. Her eyes fluttered open again, her pupils dilated with pleasure.
She writhed against me, biting her bottom lip, trying to stifle moans but failing blissfully. She threw her arm back around my neck, her nails digging into the skin, back, etching the map of her pleasure onto my flesh.
“Come for me, baby. Don’t let me down,” I commanded, my voice a low rumble in the otherwise quiet room. Her mouth fell open with a soft gasp as though my words were enough to push her over the edge. Her body quivered, beads of perspiration forming on her forehead. Her skin flushed with the undeniable signs of her impending climax.
“Fuck, Vin. I’m gonna come.”
Her words were the trigger I needed, the last bit of restraint within me vanishing into thin air. I drove my cock deeper into cunt, and my thrusts became hard and wild. Her body responded in kind, matching my rhythm until we were riding the same wave of pleasure.
A guttural growl vibrated through my chest as Wendy’s orgasm washed over her. Her pussy clamped around me tighter than ever, milking every drop out of me.
“Oh fuck, I’m coming,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her arm flung over her face as she rode out her high.
“Yes, give it to me. You know what I want.” I twisted her hard nipple in my free hand as my other rubbed her clit, sending her over the edge.
Her body convulsed as she released a desperate cry echoing through the empty house. Each pulse of her climax sent shivers through me, pushing me ever closer to my own release. The sight of her pleasure, the feel of her pussy tightening around me again and again, was too much.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my voice raspy as I fought back my impending orgasm. I wanted to savor this moment, to watch the pleasure play out across Wendy's all-too-expressive face.
Just as she began to descend from the peak of her climax, I drove into her one last time. With a groan that shook the room, I came inside her, my seed spilling with a sense of finality that left me breathless.
“Vincent,” she whispered. Wendy brushed a few sweaty strands of hair from my forehead, offering a soft smile that rivaled the morning sunrise over the Atlantic.
“Lay on me,” I instructed her softly, pulling out and lying back. Without a word, she propped herself on one elbow and nestled into my side, her glossy hair cascading over my chest. The scent of her, the feel of her skin against mine, it intoxicated me more than any drug ever could. I ran my hands through her hair as she traced patterns onto my chest.
The air between us was electric, filled with an anticipation that seemed to hum around us. Drawing in a breath, I rolled on top of her, capturing her lips with mine. The taste of her was addictive—sweet and salty and uniquely Wendy.
“You’re ready to go again?” Wendy didn’t bother hiding her smirk, and while she couldn’t get enough of me, I couldn’t get enough of her, either.
“Would you say no if I slid my cock into you right now?” I positioned my thickening erection against her dripping entrance, teasing her.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as her lips curled into a coy smile. “Try and see,” she challenged, her fingers tracing lightly over my chest.
“It is our babymoon, right? Isn’t an ample amount of fucking part of it?”
“Yes, but believe it or not, I’m kinda sore.” Wendy half laughed and cupped my face, bringing our lips together, our tongues dancing against the other.
“Fine. I’ll let you rest.” I paused. “For now.” I winked and rolled to the side, my hand still fondling one of her hard nipples. It was impossible for me not to touch Wendy. My body craved constant contact with her warm, silky skin.
“Vincent.” Her voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter, “I've been thinking...”
Sensing the seriousness in her tone, I shifted my gaze down at her. “What is it?” My hand reached up to tuck a thick, stray, dark lock of hair behind her ear.
She bit her lip nervously. “How come you hold back when we have sex now?”
“What do you mean?” A shadow crossed my face, and Wendy must have noticed because she shifted away and drew the sheets up to cover her juicy breasts.
“You know what I mean.” Wendy tucked in her chin.
“Use your words, Wendy.”
“I'm not sure how to...” She fumbled, her gaze rooted to the ceiling above us.
“Try.” My tone was gentler. I turned on my side, propping my head up with my hand as I waited for her to find the right words.
“I mean... before, when we made love,” she started, her eyes finally meeting mine. The vulnerability in them was raw. “You were always... rougher.”
“And now?” I prompted, tilting my head slightly.
“Now,” she paused, “it's like you're afraid. Like you're holding something back...” Her voice trailed off, and she shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.
“Didn't think you'd noticed,” I admitted, running a thumb over her swollen belly. “What do you miss specifically?” My eyebrow raised.
“I miss everything. Don’t get me wrong, you are the best and still the best…”
I threw my head back, laughing while still rubbing Wendy's stomach's sweet, taut skin. “But, there must be something you miss the most?”
“I told you I miss it all,” Wendy insisted, wrapping her hand around my forearm.
“Show me what you miss most.” And I already knew as her grip slid up my arm until her fingers tightened around my wrist.
Wendy considered my request momentarily before guiding my hand and opening my fingers with hers. She positioned my hand inches away from her neck. When I didn’t protest but didn’t grant permission either, Wendy cautiously moved my digits until they pressed against her skin.
I froze, and my eyes shot to hers. She met my gaze, an unspoken question hovering between us. Swallowing thickly, I began to pull my hand away, but she tightened her grip around my wrist, holding me in place.
“Is this what you want?” My voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. The question hung in the air.
“Not if it scares you,” she murmured, looking down at where our hands were entangled together.
“No,” I quickly denied, “it doesn't scare me.” Liar. “But I don't want to hurt you, Wendy.”
“You never hurt me before...” Her voice trailed off as if she was lost in her own thoughts. Her hand relaxed its grip on my wrist but didn’t withdraw from its position over her throat. “I miss this.”
“But why? I mean, I get it. I really do,” I said as my hand closed around Wendy’s smooth, elegant neck, but I didn’t squeeze. At least, not yet. “It’s sexy as fuck, and it gives me a rush, knowing I’m taking something from you, bringing you to that edge of vulnerability. But what does it do for you?”
“But, what does it do for you?” Vincent asked as he applied just the slightest amount of pressure to set my skin on fire, and a gush of warm arousal flooded my pussy.
I had thought long and hard about why one night I suddenly yearned for this treatment whenever Vincent and I fucked. Even when he was gone, I missed it. I couldn’t just accept sex without it. This moment with the man I loved, who shattered me once, where I almost permitted it to happen again, granted me the clarity I needed.
Through it all, the love, the heartbreak, the reconciliation, it came down to trust. I trusted Vincent would make me feel like the most amazing person. At the same time, the unspoken possibility of being hurt always existed. Even the simple things, like walking side by side in the street, taking a wrong step, and falling, I’d trust his instincts would be present enough to catch me or pick me right back up after falling. And when I was in his arms, amid passion, having Vincent’s hand wrapped around my neck, threatening to deprive me of an essential function to live but knowing he’d keep me safe, ultimately made me want to forfeit that control, especially to him. I could have spelled all this out to Vincent, and he must have known it to an extent, except he didn’t need to hear every single thought or rationale flowing through my mind. Sometimes, it was okay to keep reasons to yourself and let the person closest to you figure out the rest.
“What it comes down to for me is the ultimate form of trust, on top of you making me feel fucking amazing during sex.” I sucked my bottom lip through my teeth, quelling a smile as a rush of color flooded Vincent’s cheeks.
He fake hid behind his side of the blanket and playfully pushed my shoulder. “Aw, shucks. Well, if you’re going to put it like that.”
I laughed but didn’t expect it when Vincent sat up and suddenly pinned me down by my shoulders while ripping the covers away to expose my naked form to his hungry eyes.
“So, this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” Except, there was no regret in Vincent’s tone. If anything, I could hear the pounding in his chest, easily syncing with mine.
“If you’re okay with it?” It really wasn’t a question, either. This was how I needed it to be, and I knew Vincent simply needed my permission. Vincent’s smile waned when his eyes shifted to the diamond ring on my finger, and my stomach lurched as I prepared myself for the next question.
“When would you like to set a date?” The velvet timbre of his deep voice pierced the room.
“I don’t want to right now,” I blurted. This was a fact I had been struggling with for the last two months. Just something about what Vincent and I shared now, I didn’t want to rock. It was an easy balance we were maintaining, quite effortless.
“Okay.” His gaze softened as he peered deeply into my eyes. His broad shoulders relaxed, and I felt the tension leave his body. “We take our time. We don't rush anything.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” I cupped one side of his lightly stubbled face, my fingertips dancing along his sharp jaw. “What we have is enough.” I absentmindedly let my other hand massage my belly, still amazed at what was growing inside me, still not knowing if it was a little boy or a girl. It was a detail we decided to let it stay a surprise until delivery day.
“Wendy, you are enough.” Vincent leaned down, brushing his thick lips against me, his warm breath tickling my chin. “And you alone will always be enough.” A growl escaped his chest as one of his hands moved from my shoulder to my throat. His hand stayed stationed around my neck but let it lay there like a not quite heavy enough weighted blanket. “You know, if we start this again, we’re going to need a new safe word,” Vincent warned.
“Why? You don’t like the one we have now?”
“You decided to scream it while we were still tied up and in front of Zachary. So, yeah. I think a new one is in order.” Vincent smirked, his hand toying with a vein on the side of my neck.
“That’s because you wouldn’t stop talking and weren’t listening to anything else I said when I told you to stop.” I grinned and ran my hand through Vincent’s lush hair. The feeling of his soft mane through my fingers was always like free-falling into the most delicious cloud. I’d never get enough.
“Pretty please?” A playful glint danced across his ocean eyes, and he turned his hand to plant a featherlight kiss along my inner wrist.
“Alright, alright.” My eyes rolled in exaggerated annoyance. “I’ll choose a new word.”
“Something that we don't use in usual conversation.” Vincent's grin widened, tickling my skin with his breath as he leaned in. “But also something not silly. Let it be appropriate for how we’re feeling and what we’re doing now.”
Okay , I thought. I could do this, but it was going to come from me. I’d take Vincent’s light instructions, wrap them around my head, and let them settle in my heart. As I gazed up at the man I would spend the rest of my life and build a family with, this word had to be special. He represented a part of my foundation my mind would always require and what my heart would always…
“I have it.” My eyes popped.
“Okay, let’s hear it.” A slow burn laugh spilled from Vincent’s lips I planned to kiss in seconds.
“Desires.”
THE END….