Chapter 27 Penelope
Chapter twenty-seven
Penelope
Daniel tugs me into his room and shuts the door behind us before setting up the monitor receiver on one of the nightstands.
I love how careful and how thoughtful he is with Danny and her needs.
It took me a while to mentally loosen the reins and get comfortable passing off some of the parental load I’ve carried Danny’s entire life.
But after seeing them together these past few months - how caring, kind, and thoughtful he is, and how much Danny adores him, I’m no longer worried.
When he turns to me, though, the hours of teasing touches and heated glances have my panties dampening and my chest heaving. My nipples tighten, and my eyes drop to them.
“Go stand in front of the mirror,” he commands, his voice low, serious, leaving no room for debate.
He has a large, gold-framed mirror that rests on the floor next to the fireplace in his room. So, I go and stand in front of it.
“Strip.”
I drag the side zipper of my dress down and shrug out of it, letting it pool on the floor at my feet.
But instead of looking at myself in the mirror, I’m looking at his reflection over my shoulder.
I watch as he steps in behind me, unbuttoning his shirt. When he lets it fall to the floor, I can feel his body heat at my back. He kisses my jaw, behind my ear, and down my neck as he undoes my bra.
“Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles against my skin.
I don’t know if it was the wine, the conversation, the developing friendships, or his touches all night, but my skin is buzzing with a warm sensation. I let my eyes drift closed as he drags each of the straps off of my shoulders and lets my bra join my dress on the floor.
Delirious with warmth and lust, I let my head drop back against his shoulder and lean back on him - trusting him fully to take care of me.
He drags his fingertips just under my breasts, over my stomach, up my sternum and around my throat, ratcheting up the pressure between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together with a frustrated moan.
He kneels in front of me, and instinctively my hand comes to his cheek.
The image before me is heady. This powerful, gorgeous man, his defined shoulders and chest on display for me, kneeling on the floor, his hands wrapped around my naked thighs as he looks up at me with those gorgeous, intoxicating brown eyes.
And then he does the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me. With his hands gripping my ass and thighs, he drags me to him, loops his tongue under my underwear at my hip and bites the fabric in his teeth.
His eyes never leave mine as he drags my underwear down my legs.
Once he’s past my knees, I rest a hand on his shoulder for balance and step out of them.
Then the image of Daniel, on his knees, powerful as he is, grinning, with my underwear between his teeth, sends a bolt of lust through my veins and a shiver up my spine.
I don’t even try to hide how much he affects me.
He takes my undies and shoves them in the front pocket of his slacks before standing and coming to my back again.
“Look at you,” he whispers, nodding towards the mirror.
I’m not insecure about my looks, but it’s been a really long time since I’ve cared, or even really looked in a mirror.
I’ve been living in survival mode for so long, and Danny never cared about how I looked.
I certainly wasn’t concerned about attracting male attention, or even in the mind-space to put myself and my self-respect first.
But standing here tonight, I let myself look.
I look... okay. Maybe a tad too thin. I did swipe on some mascara and lip gloss when we were getting ready for dinner tonight, but that’s mostly gone. My stomach’s soft from pregnancy, my hips rounder than before, my breasts and little saggier, but I like the way I look.
I really like the way I look next to Daniel, and his miles of tanned skin, muscles, and the goofy grin he’s wearing. It excites me and makes me feel alive in ways I haven’t felt since that night with him all those years ago.
“Are you tired, sweetheart?” he asks, retreating, and I frown at the loss of him.
Eager for more of his touches, I shake my head. “No.”
And then, in the mirror, I watch as he reaches into the nightstand and pulls out a bright pink wand. My eyes widen in alarm. I haven’t played with a vibrator since probably my early twenties, and it was the last thing I was expecting him to pull out.
“Don’t move,” he instructs, as he twists the base, and a low buzzing sound fills the room, along with my pounding heart.
He steps up behind me again, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me back against him again.
I close my eyes again, ready for whatever he’s going to do to me.
I jump, though, when the vibrator touches just above my belly button.
Ever so slowly he drags it up, around my breasts in circles, each pass getting closer and closer to my nipple.
When the vibrator finally caresses my nipple, I break out in goosebumps.
I’m hot and cold all at the same time, and my core aches.
He repeats the motions for so long I get dizzy and lose any sense of reality. He repeats the motions until it’s almost painful.
I must wince because he drags the vibrator down my belly and just above my pubic bone. I sigh in relief.
He taps the inside of my feet, urging me to widen my stance, so I do.
He drags the vibrator down one thigh, around to my ass, over my hip, just grazing my labia but never touching me where I’m so desperate for him to.
I let him continue his torture until finally, finally it grazes my clit.
The buildup, the foreplay, the night has me almost coming from a quick graze, but as he moves the vibrator down the inside of my thigh, the feeling subsides back into a powerful ache.
My entire pelvis is tight, poised for release.
On one pass, the vibrator grazes my back entrance, causing me to clench in surprise. A wicked chuckle skates across my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t take you here tonight. But someday...” the dark promise in his voice sends another shiver down my spine.
Finally, the grip around my waist tightens, and he circles the vibrator around my swollen clit. My clit that has its own heartbeat at this point.
My toes curl. I moan, loudly, my orgasm building sharp and strong, but he moves it away before I can come. My eyes shoot open. They take a moment to refocus, but instead of the wicked grin I’m expecting, there’s a look of awe on his face.
He brings the vibrator back to my clit, but instead of closing my eyes, I maintain eye contact with him.
The orgasm builds hard and fast again, and just before I’m about to come, he pulls it off of me.
Something changes between us. It’s not a game; it’s not teasing; it’s a challenge.
The third time he denies my orgasm, frustrated tears build and I clench my fists, anger and desperation clawing at my skin.
Still, he maintains eye contact.
The fourth time, I do cry. I want to scream. I want to lash out. I want to touch myself and push myself over the edge. My clit is painful now, with the need to come. Cum slides down the inside of my thighs, and I’m so hot I could combust. My nostrils flare.
And then it goes quiet. All that need, all that desperation and anger, just vanishes.
My shoulders relax, my fingers loosen. Staring into his whiskey-brown eyes, I succumb.
He knows my body better than I do, and if this teasing, this orgasm denial is what he wants to give me tonight, I trust him.
He’s never done anything that hasn’t been focused on me and my pleasure.
My nose stings as more tears streak down my cheeks, but I ignore it, lost in the eyes of the man in the mirror.
“There’s my girl,” he whispers reverently.
And that’s when I realize he was waiting for my submission - not on my knees, not verbally, but a soul-deep submission to him. An accepting that I’ll happily take whatever it is he wants to do to me because I trust him with my body, mind and soul. And I do.
And when I study my own face in the mirror, I see what he sees. Peace. My hair’s a mess, my pale skin flushed and blotchy with red, my cheeks stained with tears, but there’s a set to my shoulders, a clarity in my eyes that wasn’t there before. I like it.
He turns the vibrator off and scoops me up before laying me down on the bed. The soft sheets stick to my sweaty skin, but I watch as he reaches over and pulls a condom out of the nightstand.
“I’m wearing a condom tonight because it’s not the right time to have this conversation, but you wanted more kids before, and I’m going to be the man to give them to you.” He says it was such utter clarity and certainty that I believe him.
“You okay, baby?” he asks once the condom is rolled on.
I nod my head, unable to speak.
He reaches a hand up and palms my cheek. I press into his touch, loving the feel of him.
“I love you, Nell. I’m so proud of you.”
I still can’t speak, but a soft smile grows on his lips from whatever he can see in my face. Because I love him, too.
He lines himself up between my legs, presses down gently on my lower belly, before sliding himself inside.
The pressure from his hand causes his first thrust to drag along my G-spot and I come with a scream.
He presses his other hand across my mouth, but I’m only vaguely aware of it.
The buildup from the last hour means every inch of my body feels this orgasm, from my nipples, my painful clit, to the roots of my hair.
I grip his arms, digging my nails into his flesh as I come and come and come.
He pulls out and thrusts back in with a snap of his hips, over and over again, which only prolongs the world’s best orgasm. I’m boneless, mindless. I’m coming so hard I’m afraid I’ll never be the same after this.
Daniel buries his face in the crook of my neck and with one last thrust of his hips he comes, too. The hand covering my mouth moves to the back of my head as he holds me closer to him. I wrap my arms around him and feel him shudder.
For a good long moment we simply hold each other, breathing together.
“I love you.” I whisper the truth that’s been on my heart for so long.
He kisses my temple. “I love you, too, baby.”
***
The next morning I wake up to sunshine pouring through the window. I blink and rub the sleep out of my eyes. Last night, Daniel did all the normal aftercare things, but I think I was asleep for most of them.
I stretch and enjoy the ache deep in my muscles. My entire body feels wrung out and put back together again in the most delicious way.
I sit up, realizing the bed is empty.
I check my phone. It’s nine. Crap! Danny’s usually up before seven.
I grab the nearest things I can find - Daniel’s button down and a pair of boxers - and throw them on before rushing down the hallway to Danny’s room, which I find empty.
Voices float up from downstairs, and I realize Daniel must have gotten up with her.
I tiptoe down the stairs, wanting to watch them together without them knowing. And when I get to the bottom of the stairs, I’m able to peek around the banister, through the sitting room and into the kitchen.
“Shhh!” Daniel scolds a giggling Danny, holding up a finger to his mouth. “You promised me you could be quiet and let Mommy sleep in this morning.”
“I forgot!” Danny whisper-shouts back, not at all bothered by the scolding.
“Open your mouth,” Daniel says, kneeling, and I watch with happy tears as he sprays a can of whipped cream into Danny’s open mouth. Unfortunately, his aim misses a squirt, landing on her nose, causing Danny to sneeze whipped cream all over Daniel’s face.
I bring my hand to my mouth to cover my gasp as I wait to see what they’ll do.
They stare at each other, both with their faces covered in whipped cream, stunned, before Danny’s face breaks out into a wide grin.
“Why you little...” Daniel starts, and Danny takes off running, laughing so loudly my heart swells.
Daniel chases Danny around the island, wiping whipped cream from his face and flicking it at her retreating back.
She squeals as she races through the sitting room and right into my legs when she sees me.
She hides behind my legs as Daniel kneels in front of me, pretending to grab at Danny from the front.
“Well, if you won’t help me clean up, maybe Mommy can,” he says and before I can react, he buries his face into my stomach and rubs it all over my shirt.
When he looks up again, he still has whipped cream stuck to his hair, and a smudge on his cheek, but God, he looks good.
I run my hand through his hair and admire how handsome he is.
“Good morning,” I say, one hand in his hair and one hand on Danny’s head.
“Morning, Mama, did you sleep well?”
“I did. Thank you for letting me sleep in.” I dip down, pick her up and hug her to my hip.
Daniel leads us back into the kitchen, where they’ve apparently lined up a waffle buffet.
When I set Danny down to help her make a plate, Daniel slides up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and dropping a kiss to my shoulder.
“This could be us, baby. Every morning,” he whispers against my hair.
It could be. The image is right there, and so beautiful it’s almost painful.
I could have every night like the one before, and every morning like this one.
All I have to do is betray my family.