Whispering Rock

He rolled her gently onto her back and rose above her. “Let me look at you, Brie,” he whispered. He ran a slow hand down her body from her neck to her pubis and over, letting his fingers slip into her damp softness for just a second, causing her to writhe against him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this beautiful,” he whispered. He put his hands on her hips and gently squeezed. She was soft and lush. He began a line of gentle kisses from her neck to her shoulder, her chest, her breast, her belly. Then he rose to kiss her neck again and with his lips against her ear, he whispered, “Trust yourself, Brie.” Then he resumed his kisses, less gentle as he lowered his mouth until he was at the center of her body. He parted her legs and put his mouth on her, delicately at first, and then with more pressure. She moved her hips against his mouth; he heard her groan and cry out, then felt her hands on his shoulders, gripping him fiercely, and he pulled on her carefully with his lips, massaging with his tongue until he could feel her tremble, open up, clench, vibrate against him. It was glorious, the way she let it go, let him take her to that pinnacle and beyond. This pleased and surprised him; he had prepared himself to have to coax her into pleasure, into orgasm, but she was quick and hot, consuming him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. As she relaxed, he drew away, rising slowly, kissing her belly, her breast, her neck, her mouth. “Brie, you are wonderful. Delicious. You honor me.”



She had trouble catching a breath. She said, “Oh, God. Oh, my God.”



“I don’t think you’re going to have trouble feeling….”



“God,” she whispered, weak and spent in his arms.



“That’s better, isn’t it?” he whispered, gently pecking at her lips.



“I want more of you,” she said.



“Are you sure?” he asked her.



“I’m sure,” she whispered.



But he took his time again, allowing her to recover, slowly arousing her with slow hands, sweet lips. There was a fierce ache in him that wanted to dive into her and experience her quickly, bring his own release, but he ignored it. He concentrated on her responses, sure that she was rising to that ultimate pleasure again. And then, because he was honor bound, he whispered against her ear, “Brie…I have a condom.”



She froze. “No,” she said emphatically, shaking her head. “Please, no.”



“Very well, my love.”



“I’m sorry, I can’t…”



“It’s all right, Brie. We’ll do without….”



He gave her a little time to forget about that, spreading his kisses over her once more, lingering at her breasts, her neck, her lips. Then finally he rose over her and with a knee placed carefully between her legs, he gently moved them apart again. He looked at her face; her eyes were closed and her head turned away from him. She held her bottom lip between her teeth, tensely. With a hand on her chin, he turned her back to face him and kissed her tenderly, lightly. Then harder, opening her lips with his. Her hands went to his hips, whether to hold him back or draw him in, he wasn’t sure. He lowered himself to her and the moment he touched her where he might enter her, she flinched. Stiffened. “Brie,” he commanded softly. “Look at my face. Look at me, baby. It’s me. Say my name, mi amor.”



In a breath it came. “Miguel.”



“Put your hand on me, Brie. Show me the way. You’re in control.”



She wrapped her small hand around him, and at the merest touch he was ready to lose it. He wasn’t sure he could last long enough to please her again, but he was hell-bent to try. Slowly, cautiously, she led him into her. “My love,” he said, “focus on my face, Brie. It’s you and me, and I love you. I’ll never give you anything but love.”



“Miguel,” she said softly.



“Brie,” he whispered. He slid into her slowly, filling her, and she tilted her head back, her pelvis up, and with her hands again on his hips, pulled him deeper. Being inside her like that, he thought he might die, it was so good. He pulled up her knees and balanced on them, moving within her, rocking, stroking, making sure to create the friction that he knew from experience worked, while pushing himself deeply inside, which also worked. It was so important that she reclaim the joy of this. It wasn’t just feeling again, but feeling to her very core; feeling that was so shattering, it would leave her consumed. She was straining against him, bucking, losing herself in the moment, reaching for another orgasm, and this time from the feared penetration. This was what he wanted for her, that she could have success now, like this, with a man who wanted only to please her, with a man who adored and respected her and loved her more than life itself. He knew she would have to trust him completely for her release to come.



When her orgasm came, it closed around him with a powerful grip and he felt her fingernails dig into his butt. He moaned in deep appreciation while he pushed harder against her, deeper into her. She clung to him and cried out. He held her fast, held her close, still, his body her body, as one. “Brie,” he gasped. “Dios.” And when he sensed that she was almost complete, the storm nearly past for her, he moved inside her again, deep and strong and quick, and that was all it took to bring her up and over the top once more. She gasped and rose against him, pulsing around him all over again. When it stole her breath away and she was again at the peak, he let himself go. He went off like a rocket inside her. The strength of it overpowered him and caused him to tremble.



“My God,” she whispered, astonished by him. By herself. “Oh, God.”



He nearly collapsed, but held his weight off her. A fine mist of perspiration covered them. Recovery was a long time in coming for both of them; she lay weak and spent beneath him, her hair scattered across the bed in disarray, her eyes closed, a small smile curving her lips. “Brie,” he finally said in a breath. “You’re smiling.”



“Hmm,” she said, not opening her eyes, her lips curving a little more.



He chuckled. “I think we have it back, love.”



She shook her head slightly, eyes still closed. “No, we don’t,” she said, groggy.



“We don’t?”



She shook her head again. “I never had anything like that before….”



He laughed at her, smoothing the hair back from her brow. “You’re incredible. Like a shooting star.”



“Hmm.” Her arms lay spread wide, limp, on the bed above her head. “Thank you,” she muttered.



He kissed her tenderly, tugging at her lips with his. “Feel better?” He kissed her again, small, delicate kisses. “You seem pretty relaxed,” he teased.



“Hmm. I never give good sex enough credit,” she said. “You didn’t slip me a Valium, did you?”



“Not Valium, no.” He laughed. “I wanted you to feel good. I didn’t know you were going to give back so much.”



“Hmm. Neither did I.”



He sucked gently at the lobe of her ear. “I didn’t know it could be like this,” he whispered. “You didn’t turn into stone.”



“No kidding,” she said softly. “I was hoping to feel nice.” She opened her eyes, but only a little. “Warm and cuddly. Feminine. I didn’t know you were going to blow my brains out two or three times….”



He lifted a black brow. “Two or three?”



She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but that’s okay—I’m fine now. Better than fine. Do you think you can remember how you did that?”



“I could go write it all down.”



“I just wanted to feel like a woman again….”



“Oh, baby. You did—trust me. Congratulations. They just don’t make any more woman than that. Now I’m doomed,” he said. “Now I can’t live without you.”



“All right, then,” she said with a weak little chuckle. “I’ll hang around awhile.” She ran her hand along his hair at his temple. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done that without you.”



He rolled onto his back. “Well, if you figure out how to do that without me, we’ll get a patent. Retire in the Swiss Alps. Eat caviar for breakfast.”



She giggled again. “Really, that was so good….”



“Really. I know.”



“I think you fixed everything. It seems to be working fine.”



“Hmm,” he answered. “That doesn’t touch it. There are no words…”



“You said you were in love with me,” she reminded him.



“I am over the moon, I’m so in love with you. But right now, after sex like that, it might sound insincere. Because I’ve never had sex like that in my life.”



She rolled to her side and propped herself up on an elbow. “Really? You haven’t? How is that possible?” she asked him.



“Can we worry about that tomorrow?” he asked her. “I’d hate to screw this up.”



“If you insist.”



“We’re going to try this again before tomorrow. See if we know what we’re doing…”



“If you insist,” she said again, laughing.



“I want you again,” he said. “Already. I think you have a magical effect on me.”



“Oh.” She laughed. “Poor you.”



“By morning, you might regret this.”



She sighed. “Betcha I don’t…”



And he began with soft kisses on her lips…



When Jack got home, the baby was asleep and Mel was sitting up, comfortable in one of his shirts, the laptop on her knees in front of her, either researching something on the Internet or writing e-mails. It always made him smile to see her like that. She said she liked to wear his shirts right after her shower, smelling his musk on them. He liked to wear those same shirts the next day, a reminder of her body inside, the faint memory of her fresh scent apparent. “I have a surprise for you,” he said.



“What?”



“Brie is back in town. She’s with Mike.”



“Really?” Mel said, suddenly giving him her attention. She closed the laptop and put it aside.



“I haven’t seen her. When I was leaving the bar, her Jeep was parked next to Mike’s car. She came to Mike. Not to us—to Mike.”



She shrugged. “Well, that makes sense. He loves her.”



“How do you know that?” Jack asked.



“How could you not?” she asked.



Jack sat back on the couch. “I thought he was just trying to get laid.”



“That’s pretty irrelevant,” she said, laughing. “You’re all trying to get laid. Some of you actually love the women you’re trying to get close to.”



“You act like we’re all just a bunch of bulls being led around by our dicks.”



She laughed at him, gleefully for a woman who was annoyed to be pregnant, and moody to boot. “Do I? I wonder why?”



“So you think this makes sense?”



“Extraordinary sense. It even makes me nostalgic.”



That caused him to smile devilishly. “Nostalgic enough to take me to bed?”



“Tell me something—are you letting go of this weird control thing you have over Brie?”



“Yeah,” he said, almost tiredly. “It’s not like I haven’t wanted her to have a full life. I thought she was going to have that with Brad, the shit. It was Mike who worried me—he’s been such a frickin’ tomcat.” He glanced at his wife’s disapproving expression. “Yeah, yeah, let’s not go over that again. We all made our rounds.”



“I doubt he made any more rounds than you,” she said.



“It was just the marriages that got under my skin,” he said. “So help me God, if he marries her and walks away from her, I am going to kill him.”