Augusta in his arms, looking up at him with hunger in her mysterious eyes, felt good. Right.
Placing her gently atop the edge of the bed was not how he envisioned their first time, but he also never imagined their first time she would be pregnant, and there was the rub. While her pregnant form was extremely appealing, he still had issues with it—issues he hoped wouldn’t interfere with his or her enjoyment of her overly sensitive body.
While he stood there staring at her and not making a move, she took offense. She pushed up on her elbows, and the haze of passion started to recede. “John? Is this what you truly want? Me? Like this? Am I what—”
He couldn’t let her finish that question. The disappointment and self-doubt that was creeping in…he couldn’t stand that his hesitation was causing it.
“No. Don’t even think that. I have never wanted something more in all my years.” John lowered himself onto the bed beside her and began removing her clothes. “Now, no more questions, no more doubts. No. More. Thinking. Just feel.”
Slowly, he slid her dress off one shoulder and then the other, following the edge of the fabric with a kiss to each. The fabric was stretch, so it moved almost effortlessly across her skin and undergarments. When it was below her beautiful belly, he rose and worked it the rest of the way down her legs.
John noticed her legs were just as slim as they had always been, perhaps swollen a little around the ankles, but not so the casual observer would notice. He pulled the dress over her ballet flats and tossed it aside. With her right leg still in his hand, he kissed the inside of her ankle. “Sensible,” he joked as he removed one shoe and then the next.
“That’s it. We are not doing this, you big meanie. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly built for heels right now.” She struggled get up.
“Stop it, Gussy Girl, I’m just kidding.” He stood between her legs at the end of the bed, caressing the outside of her thighs, up and down. “If you aren’t comfortable in heels, why did you wear them when I took you to dinner?”
Again, she blushed his favorite shade of pink, and he watched it rise. His gaze devoured its path. He noticed her bra and panties weren’t typical date wear. They didn’t even match, but something about them were sexy as hell. Very Augusta.
“Well, if you must know, I wore them for you, you big idiot.”
“Now, now. No need to insult me. If you keep that up, I’ll spank you until you apologize.” The shiver than ran through her was borderline orgasmic for John. My Gussy Girl likes a man in charge. Perfect. Of course, he wouldn’t spank a pregnant woman, but she didn’t know that. “And these?” John hooked his finger under the edge of her serviceable underwear and drew his finger along the inside crease of her thigh—so close to her pussy, yet not nearly close enough. It was his turn to shiver. “The night you went out with me, I felt lace,” he snapped the elastic as he pulled his finger from underneath and bent to kiss her belly just above the waistband, “and satin.”
“So?” she questioned, breathless. Her hands buried in his hair, and he turned his attention to her breasts, still hidden by a soft, pink cotton.
“So, why didn’t you wear satin and lace for Jesse?”
Her hands in his hair stilled, and her gaze clashed down with his. “I am not going to stroke your ego. You are only asking because you already know the answer.” She muttered, “men,” then dropped her head back to the bed, taking her touch with her. Somehow, she was even more beautiful with her arms splayed and an exasperated look on her ethereal face.
“Maybe it’s not stroking my ego but reassuring me?”
She raised her head off the bed and gave him a challenging look. “Fine, I wore the heels and the underwear especially for you. I wanted you to see me in them, and out of them. I wanted you to appreciate me as a woman, see me as someone who was sexy and desirable, not just someone else’s baby hotel, okay? And Jesse, well, I didn’t want him to see me in them or out of them. I didn’t care how he saw me because it was just companionship. Like going to dinner with Stacy or Dax. Are you happy now? Does hopelessly pathetic turn you on?”
God, she is beautiful.
“Yes.” He caught one nipple through her bra, tearing a gasp from her pink lips. “I am extremely happy.” He gave the same treatment to the other. “You are not hopeless or pathetic, but you turn me on like no one ever has.” John reached behind her and managed to unhook her bra and free her mesmerizing breasts. “Perfection,” he breathed.
John fell on them again, sucking and nipping, enjoying her writhing below him…mewling, squirming. Her breasts were sensitive; he knew they would be. Pregnancy ramped that up in woman, among other things. He shifted his gaze toward hers while he kept his mouth working her responsive nipple. The thrill that ran through him at her watching intently sent him into a frenzy.
Keeping their gazes locked, he feasted on her body with his eager mouth. John gave her a mischievous smile against her nipples while his fingers found her clit. No ceremony, no build up, no tease. No gentle caresses on her inner thighs, just his hand on her pussy. The rapture on her face was beautiful. There was something to be said for build-up, but there is also a time and place for getting to the heart of the matter. This was the latter.
John had to rein himself in a bit because of the pregnancy, but this was their first time, and she needed to understand who he was in the bedroom. Sure, he could do slow and sweet. He even mastered following orders when the mood called for it, but as a rule, he was raw, rough, and in charge. Sometimes build-up didn’t require minutes, it could be just as intense with seconds. Her sharp intake of air and whined “John,” were proof of that. The following gasp was throwing jet fuel on a raging inferno. The explosion in his heart leveled him.
“I have to taste you.” John slid down her side, trailing kisses along the way. He didn’t stop until he was completely off the bed. Standing between her legs, he bent, grabbed her rounded hips, and dragged her toward him. Gently, but with authority, he positioned her knees, placing her feet flat on the edge of the mattress. Slowly, as to not overextend, but with a firm hand, John pressed her knees outward.
Eden. That was the one word that exploded in his mind as he got the first look at the place he wanted to own, a place he wanted to be more than anywhere else. John tore his shirt over his head and tossed it to Augusta teasingly. When she caught it in her hands easily and brought it to her nose, John thought he’d die. Then when a look of serenity crossed her face as she inhaled, he was sure he would.
“What?” she questioned while she wadded it up and placed it under her head. “I like the way you smell, so sue me.” She looked unashamed, unapologetic but still slightly embarrassed. He had always believed her to be a walking contradiction, and this was just one more incident where she proved it.
He realized why she had placed his shirt under her head. It wasn’t just for support, she seemed to be enjoying the smell. John walked around to the head of the bed and retrieved two pillows. After raising her head, he placed one there, moved the shirt to the top, and softly lowered her head back down. The urge to place a kiss on her lips was irresistible. When he pulled away, her lips followed him up, trying to stay connected. She opened her eyes, and her head plopped back down onto the pillow.
John winked at her, causing a smile to burst across her face. Her head turned to the side, and her eyes drifted closed again as she visibly inhaled. “What exactly do I smell like?” he whispered before walking back to his previous position. John tapped her hips. She assisted in positioning the second pillow under her, presenting him a clear path to Eden, and she never once turned her head forward or opened her eyes. So, John took advantage of her distraction to free his aching cock and enjoy the view.
The slow rhythmic stroke, coupled with the beautiful pink pussy he was staring at, brought him to the edge of shooting his load somewhere in the vicinity of her knees. That will not do. Not do at all. As he was lowering himself to his knees, he heard, “Spicy Scotch and coffee.” But he wasn’t focused on her words, he was focused on her scent of arousal. That focus shifted to her taste when he kissed paradise.
John thought he might never get his fill of that flavor…or the sounds she made as he feasted. “Oh God, John. I can’t…please?” she pleaded. John knew exactly what she was begging for too; she wanted to come, needed it. It took him just one kiss, two strokes of his tongue, and a finger and thumb to figure out exactly where to pleasure her without sending her spiraling into an orgasm.
Instead, he brought her to the highest peak, held her there, then dropped her just a few degrees from the top and back up again. This kind of control was more integral to him than all other forms. For a moment, he questioned if he could live out of control in other areas of his life if this one remained, but his focus was on what was laid out before him. Those were questions he could mull over later, right now, he wanted to watch a beautiful woman come because of him.
Pumping his finger in and out of her faster, he whispered, “come,” not that she could hear him or that saying it would even work. He just needed to voice it for some inexplicable reason. Using his teeth and lips, he worked her clit until she started to quiver around his finger.
John raised his head just in time to witness her face start to contort in pleasure. Pinching her nipple with his free hand, he ceased the rapid in and out motion of the other. Instead, he let his thumb and first two fingers work in tandem together, stroking a perfect rhythm both inside and out. “Open your eyes,”he rasped, and she complied, just in time for him to see the fireworks ignite in her amber and hazel orbs.
Augusta struggling to breathe through her pleasure was a work of art.
She gasped to intake air but was locked in bliss and wasn’t able to. It was a nuance of rapture that John loved to witness.
The moment of not being in control of even the primary functions of life. John was awed, watching her hang from the precipice by her fingertips, suspended in a haze of pleasure unlike anything else. Then that almost second release, when her body was returned to her control and she got her first taste of oxygen in what felt like both a lifetime and a nano-second.
Stunning.
Augusta’s first intake was almost violent, and as she exhaled harshly, it was John’s name that provided the soundtrack. Not just for the first breath, but the first four, each one the same, but different. Both prayer and praise. This is what made the human experience…human.
John rose to his feet once more, unsteady but sure. When he caught Augusta gaping at his cock, he gripped it once again and stroked with purpose this time. He wanted her to see him the way he saw her. And he didn’t just want her to see him like that, he needed her to.
As he neared his own oxygen deprived ecstasy, Augusta turned her head in a mix of sated satisfaction and embarrassment. “Look at me, Gussy Girl. Watch what you do to me. See me as you allowed me to see you. Don’t look away, and I promise, I’ll make love to you like it’s your first time, but I’ll fuck you like it’s your last.”
John relished the shock on her face and the fascination. No one heard him talk like that outside of the bedroom, but he was a different man there.
It was the appreciation on her face when she bit her lower lip that sent him over the edge. “Fuuuuuck,” he ground out as he came all over her pregnant belly. He felt a bit of shame about that. It hadn’t been his intention, but he couldn’t say there wasn’t something smugly satisfying about it, something that called to the caveman inside him. But his shame was winning out. That was another man’s child, and it felt disrespectful somehow, until Augusta changed the way he was thinking with a simple action.
Her delicate hand came to rest on her belly, right under and on top of where he was still coming. He watched in fascination as she gently rubbed a circle there while he spurted another string of creamy white that connected them for a second. With it still clinging to the back of her index finger, she raised her hand to her face and sunk her finger all the way into her pretty pink mouth.
Her eyes closed in rapture while she sucked. John was already recovering from his mind-blowing orgasm. He couldn’t wait to sink balls-deep into what he now knew would be his own personal Eden.