Chapter 45 #2
I sit at the vanity, removing pins while steam spreads from the shower.
Artur’s naked body remains visible from shoulders to feet at first, broad back darkened by water while the scars along his right ribs shine pale when he turns.
Soap moves across his chest, down the firm muscles of his stomach, then through the black hair surrounding his cock.
He is already hard.
Fog whitens the glass from the top downward until his body becomes a dark outline; I wait, smiling before he moves.
Artur’s palm wipes one clear patch at the exact height of his cock.
The thick shaft appears through the clear oval his palm made in the fog, fully erect and heavy in the shower light.
Water pearls along the broad head before traveling over the vein underneath, and when Artur shifts his hips, his cock swings behind the glass with the same shameless display that made me blush on our first morning as husband and wife.
Steam turns the rest of him indistinct, leaving that obscene, deliberate glimpse framed like expensive art. This time I don’t pretend to look away.
“Still checking whether anything important drowned?” I ask.
“The inspection remains necessary.”
This time, he opens the shower door.
Steam reaches me with the smell of cedar soap. Water runs over his chest toward the hard length rising between his thighs while he stands aside, leaving the entrance clear.
I remove the red bra and underwear, then step inside.
Only after I pass him does Artur close the door.
Under the spray, his hands settle on my hips and turn me while his gaze moves over the body pregnancy has remade.
Beneath warm water, my breasts look larger, the nipples dark and tight.
Between us rises the triplet curve, round and unmistakable above the dark curls at my thighs.
He kneels.
Water follows his hair as he kisses my stomach. Both hands support my hips while his mouth travels lower, passing over the underside of the curve before reaching my pussy.
I brace my hands against his shoulders, and Artur lifts my left thigh over his arm, holding all the weight while his tongue parts me.
Heat gathers faster than it did before pregnancy, and one stroke over my clitoris makes my muscles tighten. He repeats it slowly, then slides two fingers inside while his mouth works above them.
My head falls against the tile.
Artur chooses the pace, deep fingers curling while his tongue keeps pressure over the swollen flesh, and water runs between my breasts. It gathers beneath my stomach before spilling across his face, and he doesn’t release me to breathe properly.
The orgasm buckles my supporting knee, but Artur holds me upright, mouth still between my legs while my pussy pulses around his fingers.
He rises after the contractions ease.
His cock presses along the side of my stomach when he kisses me, wet head leaving a slick line against my skin, and I taste myself on his mouth. One broad hand closes around my ass, lifting me carefully until my legs wrap above his hips without compressing the pregnancy.
“Bedroom,” he says against my lips.
The single command makes me laugh because the shower has become too slippery for security approval.
Artur carries me through the open door as water follows us across the bathroom floor, places me on my left side near the center of the bed, then fits his body behind mine.
He enters in one slow stroke.
My pussy opens around his cock, slick from his mouth and sensitive enough that fullness spreads through my entire pelvis.
Artur supports my upper thigh while his other hand covers the front of my stomach.
He begins carefully, drawing out until the head catches near the entrance before driving deep again.
The bed rocks beneath us.
His pace strengthens without pressing the babies between our bodies, and wet skin strikes mine at the ass. His chest covers my back while the thick shaft fills me again and again, reaching the angle that makes my thighs tense.
Artur’s fingers find my clitoris.
“You chose this house,” he says near my ear.
“I chose the man with the cock.”
“A sound legal basis.”
Dialogue gives way to breathing and the wet sound of his body entering mine. He holds me through each thrust, taking control while keeping his weight away from my stomach. Pleasure builds beneath his hand until my body tightens around him.
I come with his name against the pillow.
Artur drives deep, cock pulsing inside me as warmth fills my pussy. His hips remain pressed to my ass through every release. The hand over my stomach trembles before becoming still.
Afterward, he cleans us and returns with water before lying behind me. The bathroom door remains open, steam thinning through the bedroom while the clear patch on the glass disappears.
“Three cribs won’t fit,” Artur says.
“They will if you remove your side of the bed.”
“I have ownership concerns.”
“You have no ownership.”
He kisses my shoulder. “An addition may be required.”
“You need the property owner’s permission.”
“She is difficult.”
“Offer supporting evidence.”
His hand moves beneath the sheet.
“Architectural evidence,” I add.
Artur sighs with enough suffering to satisfy me.
Across the room, my old bag rests on the closet shelf, and the zipper is open. Nothing waits inside it, because every shirt hangs beside his and every important paper sits in a drawer only I can unlock.
No landlord, foster parent, employer, or husband can force my life back between those worn canvas sides. Home no longer depends on being ready to run.
I leave the bag empty.