Chapter Twelve Healing #3
“Always?” Andrea looks up at me, black pupils so wide in beautiful brown eyes that sparkle all of the time. “Like, forever?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“I’d like that.”
I expect a “but...” to follow.
It doesn’t.
“You would?”
“Uh-huh.”
Maybe it’s the pleasure talking. I know when Andrea is wrapped around me, I can barely think.
I don’t think now. I’m not thinking about logistics, or anything but a want. A need. “I love you. I need you.” My hand fastens around her wrist, holding hard.
Andrea could wriggle right out of my grasp if she wanted, but instead, her fingers lock over my thumb, and she lifts her head to lick from my tusk to the ticklish spot under my jaw.
“I need you, too, Gordon. I need you so much. Ohhh. Oh, fuck,” she whimpers, eyes closed, legs and hands tightening their grip on me, mimicking her pussy.
“I need you to fill me up and make me come. I’m so close.
So close, so fast every time that big cock is in me. ”
It’s a good thing I can withstand fire, because Andrea’s words burn me with lust. I rut into her harder, my hands and mouth greedily grabbing all of her that I can reach. Then, I pull her tight to my chest and roll onto my back.
Andrea lets out a satisfied laugh, and her hands knead my chest just like Chopin’s little pink paws, staking her claim as her hips bounce on my cock now. Hammering. Harder, faster, and then—
“Ohhhh, fuck, yes!” Andrea crows, telling the entire world (or at least the apartment) just how good I make her feel.
I get to watch. I get to watch her put one hand on her hard pink clit and rub furiously as she rides me, coming hard, milking me as her orgasm sluices over my cock. In less than a second, I follow, pumping a thin, almost clear load of my seed inside of her.
“Troll cum is compatible with human birth control pills, right?” Andrea suddenly asks, panting from her triumphant perch on top of me.
My eyes go wide. I love the sight of Andrea full of my come, and I knew that she was taking birth control pills ever since the night I brought her home and fetched her Tylenol from her medicine cabinet and saw the little pharmacy package beside it.
“I... I don’t know if they’ve tested that, Andrea. I doubt that they did.”
“We’re testing it now,” she sighs, slowly rolling off of me. “I’m not worried.”
“You’re not?”
“No. It’s not the right time in my cycle for ovulation, even if I wasn’t on the pill. But since you and I want to keep doing this forever, for always,” she smiles at me, a loving hand tracing over my awed face, “we should think about that, right?”
“You seem happy?” I ask, slightly upset that my safe, natural thing has suddenly become a confusing, uncertain thing, a ball of tension in my stomach that won’t go away until we talk about this very important matter.
“Well, yeah. A lot of girls don’t know if their boyfriends will commit. I never knew—and frankly, Current Andrea wants nothing to do with Past Andrea’s boyfriends. On a scale of one to Gordon, they were negative a millions.”
Sometimes I worry that she has had a concussion. Or that troll semen is a mild hallucinogenic. “We are talking about me being the top of the scale? With all my flaws?”
“Your flaws make you extra sexy and adorable. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you talking to my cat behind my back, telling him all the things you don’t understand about humans,” Andrea teases.
“You were in the shower. You weren’t supposed to hear any of those discussions,” I mutter. “But I don’t see—”
“I have a job. I have great insurance. I have six months maternity leave if I need it. I have a wonderful family that would provide an annoying level of support if I ever had a baby. I could have a baby without worrying about the logistical side of it—but I wouldn’t want to.
I would only want to have kids with a man who was an example of upstanding, rock-solid commitment.
Someone I knew was all in from the start.
” Andrea cocks her head, which makes her look entirely too cute.
My heart squeezes as I suddenly picture a little boy with tiny tusks and the same curious brown eyes, a smile on his face, unafraid to ask questions, unafraid of touch. He would run to Andrea’s arms, and she’d talk to him in Tagalog and English, and put him in my arms.
I hate the hot, wet feeling she’s suddenly bespelled into my eyes. “I would always love and protect you and our children,” I whisper. “They would have the best mother ever,” I choke out. I blink, horrified.
Andrea also looks horrified, then amused, the same way you laugh when you spot a puppy with its foot stuck in a peanut butter jar. You know it isn’t serious, but the puppy isn’t so certain. “Oh, Gordon,” she half-laughs, hands on my cheeks. “Oh, God. You are a total softie.”
“I am not. I am hard in plenty of places. You’ve tested this yourself,” I grumble.
“I mean that your heart is soft in the best, most loving way. Your kids would have the best father. No, seriously, Gordon.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve never taken care of little ones before, but... but, like my talented girlfriend says, ‘No one has a baby until they do.’ And one day, I would very much like to have babies with you. And cats.”
“And cats,” Andrea giggles. “Now, come on. We need showers, clothes, and breakfast. How about we have dinner at your place tonight?”
My cabin. Our cabin. I could build a swingset.
And there could be a little outdoor cat kennel, with places for the cats to run and claw, and not get stuck in trees.
A little toy piano on the floor next to Andrea’s.
Rooms built on, trails lined with wildflowers into the woods, down to the little creek.
A firepit, where we can roast marshmallows.
“Yes. Come home with me,” I whisper. Come home, and a home it will be.