Chapter 18: Finding Forever: Chapter 17

She was going to kill him. This fucking near virgin had Cade literally on his knees in front of her, and she was going to murder him. He could have wept in both frustration and relief when she relinquished her hold on his cock and lifted her face up toward his to stare at him with those seductively innocent eyes.

Cade shoved his pants down over his hips, then to his knees, before in quick—but awkward—movements, shedding them completely and dropping them onto the floor.

He refocused his attention on Fern, closing his hands around her upper arms and dragging her up so that she went from sitting to kneeling in seconds. She was so close to him that his cock grazed her torso with each painful twitching throb.

He fisted her hair and yanked her head back, trying hard to be gentle but finding it fucking difficult when she was clearly so turned on by everything they were doing.

He took her mouth with no finesse, that beautiful mouth that he’d fantasized about for the last two weeks. He ravaged it, ate it, claimed it.

Mine, he thrilled, even though he was a little repelled and appalled by his own savage possessiveness.

Mine alone.

His lips blazed a trail down her neck, sucking hard at the frantically fluttering pulse point he found there and then—when he encountered the fabric of her T-shirt—lifted his head to glare down at the offending garment.

She shouldn’t be wearing another man’s clothes.

Never again.

If she was going to wear anyone’s T-shirts it would be his.

He dragged the thing off her, hearing it rip in the process, but she didn’t protest and he didn’t give a fuck. He’d burn it later. Have a blazing bonfire on the patio and throw every single one of that anonymous fucker’s T-shirts into them.

But the T-shirt was forgotten as soon as he’d tossed it aside. Now all he could see… think about, obsess over, was her skin. All that perfect, unblemished skin.

She was going to bruise. And he was going to hate it. But even those would be his. Caused by his lips, his fingers, his teeth, his stubble.

Mine alone.

His burning stare fell to her nipples. They were prominent, big ripe raspberries on top of a two small mounds of cream. His mouth watered and he dragged her down, until she was flat on the bed… and then laid waste to her breasts. He sucked, sipped, licked, tongued, and scraped while she begged and moaned and writhed beneath him.

So fucking beautiful.

How had they not done this before?

How was she fucking pregnant and they’d never done this?

He had a pang of shame that he’d failed her—failed both of them—so badly before.

Never again.

His woman would know nothing but pleasure from now on.

She was begging him for mercy by now and he realized that he’d been teasing her relentlessly, keeping her on an edge that she’d never experienced before.

He kissed his way down her still flat stomach, and tugged her panties off, sending them in the same general direction as her T-shirt, and then took a moment to stare at the froth of sparse pale curls at the juncture of her thighs.

He crouched in front of her, and pushed her legs apart, lifting and spreading them so that he could curl his arms around her thighs. He palmed her inner thighs and held her spread out in front of him. Then he simply gazed at the pink perfection of her already spasming little pussy.

He smiled. Not one to talk during sex, he found himself wanting to rhapsodize about this pussy, write sonnets about—and heap praise upon—its sheer perfection.

His mouth watered and he swallowed thickly and finally took a greedy taste of her. Running the flat of his tongue over her in one long, slow motion, from her creamy entrance all the way up to the swollen little nub of nerve endings at the apex.

She shuddered and cried out in shock and he grinned.

He gave her a couple of more licks and she twitched in reaction.

“Cade.” She sounded breathless. Panicked. “I don’t… this is…”

He didn’t give her a chance to formulate the thought. He sucked her delicious, firm little bead into his mouth and her butt lifted off the bed as she strained toward him, while her back bowed. He didn’t let her come though, he kept her on the precipice. Not applying enough pressure. Light suction, soft flicks from his tongue, occasionally grazing with his teeth. And he kept going, until she was a sobbing incoherent mess.

He was so massively turned on that he was humping the sheets. He knew he should end this—delaying her very first orgasm so ruthlessly and for so long, bordered on cruelty—but she was so fucking delectable, he couldn’t help himself.

He relished the thrill of it. And so kept her on that edge for another full five minutes, while he soaked the sheet with his precum, before he finally gifted her with the release that she craved. One of his hands found a sweet breast to thumb at her hard nipple, while the other went to her helplessly twitching pussy.

He gave her three fingers, sinking them knuckle deep into her melting heat, and sucked hard on her clit which had swollen to nearly twice its original size thanks to his merciless ministrations.

Her breath caught, her hands went to his hair and yanked so ruthlessly, he was sure he’d lose a few strands—her back bowed and she flew apart.

It was fucking spectacular.

And even though she’d been vocal with her cries and moans and pleas while he was eating her out, her orgasm was wholly silent. He loved it. It was a thing of beauty and he thrust his fingers into her with ruthless efficiency, while she drenched his hand and the sheet. He lifted his head—replacing his mouth at her clit with his thumb—so he could watch her come undone.

Her hands finally fell from his head and her eyes drifted shut, but he shook his head, shifting up over her, nudging her legs further apart with his knees as he moved his hips between her limp, splayed thighs.

“Uh uh, temptress… no going to sleep yet. It’s my turn. Thank fuck we don’t need a condom.” The last was a muttered aside, because the thought had crossed his mind that he had none on hand. The elated recognition that he didn’t have to leave her side to get one because it wasn’t needed had followed a mere instant later. Looked like there were some perks to her pregnancy after all.

Her eyes flew open at the words and she met his eyes just as he pushed into her still pulsing channel without warning. He watched her eyes widen and he smiled when she wrapped her legs around his waist and welcomed him in.

“Very good, Fern,” he praised, just to watch her glow at the words. “Now hold on tight. This is going to be hard and it’s going to be fast.”

He was as good as his word. This time he took; thrusting mercilessly as he fucked her senseless. He was gratified when she had a couple of smaller orgasms along the way, but after what he’d just put them both through, all he could focus on was his own gratification. It was brutally quick and efficient, but fuck, it was goddamn phenomenal.

She was tight, swollen, slick and the way she moved around him, squeezing, milking him… was bliss and when his climax hit, it rushed through him like a geyser. The buzz and tingle sizzled down his spine in a snap of electricity, his balls contracted, and he groaned—the sound deep, hungry, and fierce. He clamped his hands onto her hips, holding her still, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he lost control of his thrusts. He reared up onto his knees and sucked in a breath.

Another long, deep, slow groan and he was gone, pumping himself into her. Thick, hot, endless jets of cum that flowed and overflowed, spilling out of her onto the already soaked sheets.

It felt like it went on forever. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come like this. No… he’d never come like this before. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was bareback—a first for him—or if it was because it was her.

Fern.

Whatever the reason, it was transcendent and singular…

And it terrified the shit out of Cade.

Cade removed his weight from Fern almost immediately, dragging himself off her and pulling them both out of the huge wet spot in a single, efficient movement. After that he remained prone and motionless. A heavy arm was flung across her stomach, his head turned away from her, one leg straight and the other bent at the knee, while he fought for his breath.

Fern was on her back, staring up at the warm, yellow circle of light on the ceiling. Her heart was racing, breathing fast and shallow and she wasn’t at all sure how she felt right now. Every nerve ending she possessed was hypersensitive, even her hair felt like it was crackling. Down below—in the place which her husband had so relentlessly toyed with and plundered just moments ago—she felt stretched and aching. An uncomfortable sting, a lot of dampness, and still those helpless, greedy, clutching-at-air spasms, as if that suddenly insatiable part of her was still blindly searching for his delicious thrusting stiffness. Her nipples remained hard, painful points on her tender breasts and she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to recover from this.

She felt as if she’d never know normal again. Her body, once so familiar to her, was now foreign territory and belonged wholly to the invader who’d so remorselessly and efficiently plundered its secret depths.

“I get it now,” she marveled from between snatched gasps of air, but he didn’t so much as move a muscle in reaction to her voice.

One of her hands fell to the arm he had wrapped around her waist, helplessly stroking its way down that strong, corded forearm, learning every vein, scar, muscle, and soft blade of hair along the way, while her other hand cupped her own breast, thumbing the painfully erect nipple absently.

She bit back a moan at the overstimulation, but was helpless to stop herself, fascinated by both her body and his and how they’d moved together to create such mad, mysterious alchemy.

“I get it,” she whispered again, burrowing her face against his bicep, nuzzling closer, loving the warm, spicy scent of him, enjoying how it mingled with the musk of the sex they’d just had.

Everything about this moment felt surreal, yet perfect. Despite his silence, she knew he was conscious, she could feel it in the alteration of his breath as she moved closer to him, and sense it in the slight buildup of tension in his strong, beautiful body.

She backed off, not wanting to send him fleeing from her bed quite yet, enjoying his nearness, even if it didn’t quite translate into closeness. This was what she’d signed up for. It was the agreement they’d made. And Fern was a woman of her word. She wasn’t about to make more of this than it was.

She was just flying high on a puffy cloud of post-orgasmic happy hormones and didn’t quite know how to contain herself.

Her fingers went back to lightly stroking his arm, and connected with the cool metal of his bracelet on a desultory downward sweep. Inquisitive, she explored the smooth links of the bracelet—Cade didn’t strike her as a flashy man and she’d been curious about this piece of jewelry, which—along with his wedding band and watch—he wore every day. Her sensitive fingers found what felt like a narrow plate with something engraved on it.

Too lazy and relaxed to lift her head and look, she ran her thumb over the surface of the plate a couple of times, until her nosiness finally won out and she lifted her head slightly to peer down at it.

“You have a medic alert bracelet,” she murmured, almost to herself, a little staggered by the revelation. She’d been so certain she was about to see a treasured gift from a past lover that she wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new knowledge. Instead, what she found was a bespoke, brushed silver chain link bracelet, with the words: Mr. NC Hawthorne, Allergic to Penicillin inscribed on the embedded face.

“Hmm.” The deep rumbly sound resonated through her. A sexy dragon’s purr that thrilled her. There was a long pause before he sighed and asked, “Why don’t you?”

She dropped her head back onto the pillow and went back to contemplating the ceiling, her hand still lightly caressing his arm.

“I did once. When I was a child. I outgrew it and when I told him I needed a new one, Granger pointed out that I was old enough to inform people about my peanut allergy. The lack hasn’t really been a problem.”

He turned his head—seemingly with great effort—to look at her, and she shifted her eyes to meet his dark, hooded gaze.

“It’s a problem,” he said, his voice uncompromising. “I’ll have one made for you.”

“That’s not ne⁠—”

“Fern, don’t argue.”

She chewed the inside of her lip and stared at him for a moment before huffing an aggrieved sigh.

“That’s really annoying,” she told him. “You can’t simply command me not to argue and then expect obedience.”

“Why would you argue about something that is in your best interest?”

“It’s not the bracelet, it’s the demand that I not argue.”

His lips twitched. Another almost smile, which only served to irritate her further. Stubborn man and his pathological need for control. He was seriously harshing her post-sex mellow right now.

“Go on then,” he invited, his voice mild. “Say your piece. Tell me why I shouldn’t have a potentially lifesaving medic alert bracelet made for you?”

She was glaring at him now and he was still staring at her with that amused, non-smile lifting the corners of his lips.

“I don’t know, Cade, I might start to think you care,” she told him with a smirk.

Sadly, it didn’t have the effect she’d hoped for, instead his eyes gleamed with amusement.

“I do care, Fern. It wouldn’t be great PR to have my new, pregnant bride keel over and die from anaphylactic shock, would it? Now do you mind? I need a nap.”

She felt—for the first time in her memory—her lower lip protrude in a sulky pout.

“Has anybody ever told you that you’re really, really infuriating?” she asked him.

“Infuriating? Not really. Abrasive, frustrating, aggravating, fucking reprehensible, harsh, uncompromising, stubborn, dour, exacting, overbearing, domineering, tyrannical? To name a few… Yes. Often.”

“You don’t have to sound so proud of it,” she said, fighting to hide her amusement from him. Even though his voice and face remained completely expressionless, she was certain she caught a whiff of self-deprecating, acerbic wit in that response. And it surprised, charmed, and entertained her.

“It all translates to knows his own mind to me. You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”

“I’m not sleepy,” she told him, instantly distracted by the erotic timber of his voice as it deepened meaningfully on the question.

“You’re being very selfish, Fern,” he chastised without heat, his eyes flashing as they fell to where she’d gone back to absently thumbing her nipple. “Thinking only of yourself and your own needs.”

“Well, it’s your fault, really. I didn’t know what I was missing before. I thought—after the first time—that I knew all about sex. And I admit to being somewhat underwhelmed by it all. I didn’t understand why people wrote books and songs and poems about it. It was novel and a little confusing, but not at all earth-shattering.”

“And what do you think now?” he asked, his voice dropping to a strained whisper, as the hand on her stomach began to knead and caress the sensitive flesh of her abdomen.

“I told you… I get it now. I understand why you were so negative about that first time. It was nothing compared to what we just did. I felt none of those intense sensations, and definitely none of the heat… I burned, Cade. You made me burn. And I loved it. I want more.”

“Such a greedy little temptress,” he murmured, his voice almost affectionate.

He flipped over onto his back, the move so fast and unexpected it shocked her. Even more startling, he pulled her on top of him in the same movement with bold, confident hands until she was straddling his hips.

He was hard again, his erection arching up over his abdomen, throbbing gently in time with—she assumed—his heartbeat.

“I’m knackered,” he told her covering his eyes with his forearm, leaving only that wickedly curved mouth visible. “You want more? You’re going to have to take it. “

Take it?

“How?” she asked, wide eyes riveted on the fascinating thick length of his hard penis.

One broad shoulder lifted and fell in a desultory movement, making the muscles in his chest and abs flex appealingly. Fern licked her lips and swallowed to lubricate her suddenly parched throat.

“Figure it out,” he invited in a hoarse whisper, his taut tone telling her he wasn’t as indifferent as he was pretending to be.

Well then, she thought as her appreciative gaze swept over his beautiful, perfect naked body, pausing at all the places she longed to explore more thoroughly, time to play.

Forty-five minutes after the most exquisite torture he’d ever experienced, Cade wrapped his arms around his limp, finally exhausted, and thoroughly replete wife, as she collapsed onto his chest.

She’d surprised him. Her sweet, innocent touches had been shy and tentative at first, but that shyness had gradually given way to a brazen, lingering, and thorough exploration that had taken both of them by surprise. She’d used her hands, mouth, tongue, and teeth to touch and taste every part of his body. Loitering at his chest, then licking along the ridges of his abs, until she’d finally lapped at the head of his cock like it was hard candy.

Despite the fact that his massive climax earlier had increased his staying power, the sweet, hesitant suction of her mouth on his length had nearly made him come again. Luckily, her inexperience had saved him from the sheer indignity of shooting his load too early, when she’d shifted her mouth from his cock, to plant a chaste little kiss on his abdomen.

That’s how it had gone for nearly half an hour, with her flitting from place to place, focusing on whatever random body part caught her interest and attention. There was no rhyme or reason to the seduction, her inexperience revealing itself in the lack of coordination, or focus, or knowledge of which erogenous zones to target. But that complete lack of skill had somehow been a lot more erotic than any of the more practiced efforts he’d experienced before.

Funny how things changed. Their first night together, her innocence and lack of technique had been a major turn off but now it edged him to the point of agony.

When she finally, with some aid from him, slid her hot, tightness down his hypersensitive shaft, he hadn’t lasted longer than two strokes. Thankfully, she’d been so turned on it had taken only the slow slide down his cock to set her off, so he hadn’t completely humiliated himself. But he was staggered by just how fast and how hard she’d make him come.

Again.

Now he lay—her slight body trembling in his tight embrace, his lazily throbbing cock still semi-hard and buried inside of her, slick wetness coating their thighs—confused and unsure of what his next move should be.

He couldn’t stay here with her. He had to get up, go to his own room, take a shower… but she was now completely limp, telling him she’d fallen asleep, and he hated to disturb her. Maybe he’d stay for a little while. Let her rest. Then he’d leave.

They both needed to get cleaned up. Her sheets needed changing. They were wet and sticky… it wasn’t comfortable. Say what you liked about condoms, at least there wasn’t this much mess afterwards. Cade was fastidious, he didn’t like how messy—literally and figuratively—sex could be, and this was way out of his comfort zone.

He would normally have left by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. He swept a lazy hand up and down the slender, silky expanse of her back, fingers discovering the shallow indentations along her spine. The other was buried in her hair, protectively cupping the base of her skull.

He considered the events of the last couple of hours.

He wasn’t one for regrets. He owned his decisions and his actions. But his feelings about this development were ambivalent at best. This should not have happened. It was bound to complicate matters. It was an uncharacteristically stupid move. He’d never lived with any of his previous lovers, he wasn’t even sure how that would work.

He nuzzled the hair at her temple, enjoying the clean scent of her shampoo and the silky slide of her hair against his skin.

He should leave.

His arms tightened around her for a second, as if in protest of his decision, and then he painstakingly shifted her to the side. He winced when his half-mast cock slid from her pussy, and instantly yearned to be back inside of her snug, welcoming warmth.

He ruthlessly quashed that weak longing, and—once she was curled up on the dry side of the bed—didn’t allow himself a moment’s further hesitation.

He got up. And he left.

Without a backward glance.