Learning to Love Again

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Learning to Love Again Page 15

by Cynthia P. O'Neill


  Garrett lifted my hand to his lips. “Swimming with the whale sharks, darling. I saw how excited you were yesterday, so we’ll be going out with a trained snorkeler and seeing if we can spot any today.” He leaned in a little closer, nibbling on my ear. “Watch out for the sharks in the bedroom tonight, because they’re on the prowl and ready to push you to another level.”

  I knew what he meant, as we’d talked about kicking things up another notch. He’d shown me some toys he’d packed and brought with us. I had questions about some and concerns about others. All he’d asked me to do was just keep an open mind and if I didn’t like anything, to let him know or tell him my safe word, “Waters Towers.”

  I was thankful that I hadn’t had to use my safe word in a long time. Garrett was very slow and gentle the first few times we tried new things. He wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt me or harm the babies. He knew as I got further along that some of the toys would be forbidden, but we could enjoy what we could for now. He definitely was a lover of passion, wanting to give me all the pleasure my body could handle, which seemed to ignite his desires.

  “Laurel, are you okay?” His voice was laden with concern.

  I shook my head to bring me back to the here and now. “Yes, why?”

  “You zoned out there for a minute.”

  I leaned into him. “I was thinking of all the hot things you’ve done to me lately and it made me crave you more.”

  A low growl came from his throat as he took my lips and possessed them. “If we weren’t almost to the docks, I’d take you back to our bedroom and show you just how hot things can get!”

  I smiled and let my hand graze across his crotch. “I can’t wait.”

  The swim with the whale sharks was amazing. They reminded me more of whales than actual sharks. It was amazing to see something so huge move through the water effortlessly with such beauty and grace.

  It was the last night on the island, before we headed to the last leg of our three week honeymoon. We’d done pretty much everything we could think of in the Seychelles. We watched the sunset while swinging in a hammock, took walks on the beach, came across a giant tortoise, we swam in the ocean, skinny dipped in our private infinity pool, and even enjoyed a few card games with Deidre, Thompson, Dillon and the rest of our detail. They quickly learned I’d been taught how to play poker by my brother Donny; one of his and Freddie’s favorite past times in college.

  Garrett still wouldn’t tell me where we were going tonight, but I didn’t care. I’d enjoyed every minute of our honeymoon together. I just hoped when we returned to the real world that we could be just as happy.

  “Care for a game of strip poker, Laurel?” Garrett asked, coming up behind me after he closed the door to our bedroom and locked it.

  I turned around in his arms, feeling a bit frisky. “Why not just skip the game and get right down to stripping? You know that’s what you want…or did you have something else in mind?”

  He leaned down and kissed me full on the lips, his tongue rushing in and searching out mine. “I was thinking we might test and see if that third plug has you ready?” He grabbed my ass and pulled me up against his hardened cock.

  A shiver of excitement ran through me. I bit his lower lip gently and traced down his neck with my tongue, letting my hand slide over his crotch, cupping him. “I’m whatever you want me to be tonight, lover.”

  If I’d blinked, I would’ve missed how fast he had us both out of our clothes and on the bed. Garrett grabbed several pillows and stacked them up to support my growing belly and leaned me over to where my hands touched the bed. His form pressed against the curve of mine as he nipped my shoulders.

  “You don’t know how wild you drive me, Laurel. No one has ever had the power you do over me.”

  He reached over to grab some lube off of the nightstand and then planted soft, wet kisses across my neck, down my spine, and to my ass, biting each cheek as he massaged them and pulled them apart, rimming my rosette with his tongue.

  “Oh, God!” I cried out.

  “You have no idea how beautiful your ass is, Laurel. You honor me with your trust tonight.” His words made me melt as his legs parted mine, widening my stance. He continued peppering me with kisses as his finger pushed some lube inside me.

  I was just beginning to tense when he spoke again. “You’re so tight, love. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last inside you, but even a moment will feel like a lifetime of bliss.” His words did the trick to make me relax, as his other hand came up to fondle my clit, causing two sensations to run through me. His finger finally slipped in, all the way to the second knuckle. A few strokes back and forth and he inserted a second and finally a third finger, while he increased the pressure on my clit, small waves building inside me. How is it that something so forbidden, taboo even, feels so good?

  My mind focused on his other hand as his thumb played with my clit and two fingers started playing with the outer edges, tracing circles around my core. I was lost to his passion as I felt pressure against my backside and felt his head breach me. “Ooh!” I shivered.

  “Am I hurting you, Laurel?”

  I shook my head. “No. More please.” He was much larger than his fingers and the plugs, but it felt different, unexpected. I never realized how sensitive that area was.

  He moved both of his hands to my ass, parting me so he could work his way in. Little by little, he rocked forward and pulled back, gaining ground with each entry until he was finally seated to the hilt, balls resting against my center.

  He stilled himself. His words came out in large pants, “I-I need…a…moment…love. You…feel…so d-damn good…I’m about to l-lose myself already.”

  I felt full, stretched, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. The longer he stilled, the more accustomed I became to the feeling. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight to him, while the other found my clit and the dampness that was seeping down my legs.

  He kissed my back tenderly and then began to move slowly, gaining rhythm and speed as his thumb ground into my clit, driving me wild. My hands fisted the sheets, trying to give me something to hold onto as I was driven higher and higher.

  “I can’t hold back any longer, darling, this feels so fucking good! Come with me! Now!” he growled into my ear as he slammed into me hard and poured himself into me, sending me climaxing. My eyes went dark as a show of fireworks lit up behind them, feeling both my ass and center clench with need, milking his cock and holding him inside me for as long as I could.

  “Laurel, are you okay?” His voice was panicked as I found myself lying on my back, head against the pillows and him hovering over me.

  “I’m fine, why?” I couldn’t understand his distress.

  “When I went to get a washcloth to clean us both up, you’d blacked out on me. You were out for a few minutes.” His hands were caressing my face. “Are you sure you feel all right?”

  I blacked out? Really? I thought about how I was feeling. Truly, the only word that came to mind was bliss. “I’m fine, you just took me to a place I never knew existed, a plane of sexual bliss, oh masterful one,” I teased.

  He didn’t find my humor funny. “I was so worried I’d pushed too hard or did something to hurt you. Are you sure you’re fine? I can have a doctor here within no time.”

  I sat up and kissed him slowly and deeply on the lips to show him my gratitude for giving me a new pleasure and pushing my body beyond what I ever imagined possible. “Ooh,” I said, as my hand fell to my stomach. “That was weird.”

  “What’s wrong?!” he asked, jumping up. “Are you in pain? Are the babies okay?”

  I didn’t quite know how to answer. I grabbed the baby book we’d brought along with us and looked up what I was feeling to see if I needed to have cause for alarm. I was just over fifteen weeks. I read the information and started to smile as I realized I could feel the babies moving for the first time.

  His breathing was erratic and his face was full of panic. I
reached up and caressed the side of his face. “Everything is right on track, just relax.” I took his hand and lay flat on the bed, placing it atop my belly, where I’d felt the first fluttering, and sure enough, there it was again.

  “What the hell is that? What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” His eyes went wide in horror.

  “That, my dear husband, is our babies moving around. I’ve been feeling some flutters in my stomach, thinking it was just hunger pains or being anxious, but apparently our children are beginning to move about and are big enough that we can feel them.” I grabbed the book and showed him the page I’d read. “See, it says that normally you wouldn’t feel them this early, but since I’m carrying twins and had been slightly underweight, we can feel them sooner.”

  He quickly tossed the book to the nightstand and snuggled up close to me, keeping his hands atop my stomach so he could feel them moving about. “They sure are active in there.”

  I thought about it for a minute. “Maybe it’s all the sex that has them stirred up a bit. Or could be that or the fact that I’m craving some pickles and a turkey sandwich on a pretzel bun and they’re hungry too.”

  I didn’t know what it was lately, but I craved anything salty. Don’t get me wrong, I craved the sweet stuff too, but I knew I could only indulge occasionally in that, pending how my sugar levels were running, which lately weren’t bad.

  Garrett smiled wickedly, wiggling his eyebrows. “Well, we did work up an appetite.”

  The next thing I knew, he’d phoned the chef and put in a double order of my request. “Having sympathy cravings with me?” I couldn’t resist commenting.

  He laughed, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “I don’t know, maybe.” He picked me up and walked me into the bathroom, where we took a shower and dressed in the resort’s luxury robes while we awaited our midnight snack.

  The turkey definitely did the trick, putting me to sleep in no time.

  The last leg of our honeymoon had my friend’s private plane flying us to the airport near the Margaret River Wine Region of Australia, where I’d rented a five bedroom luxury house overlooking the lush wine country. If I couldn’t take Laurel to Italy because of the cold weather, I’d let her enjoy the scenery of a working vineyard right in the Australian outback.

  The area was known for its food, arts, culture, and landscape, with some of the best wines coming from this region. I knew she’d love to look at the scenery and maybe check out some of the local towns nearby. The entire honeymoon was designed to get us away from the hustle and bustle of life and enjoy the peacefulness and tranquility of nature.

  Laurel was jumping up and down as our limo pulled into the winery area and right up the house where all of us would be staying. “Welcome to the final leg of our honeymoon, Mrs. Waters.”

  I offered her my hand as we got out of the limo, and she immediately wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a huge kiss. “Thank you, husband, for giving me the best honeymoon a woman could ever desire.”

  I knew she was about to start in on her belief that we didn’t need so many people with us, mainly half of our security detail, something she did every few days, but I wouldn’t compromise her safety or mine. I refused to budge on our security, citing that we’d always been given our privacy, but at a safe distance.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Chase had figured out my yacht had sailed to the Caribbean and was currently in St. Lucia, about to depart back to Daytona Beach. I just prayed the body doubles worked to throw him a new trail, sending him on a wild goose chase through South America. They had planned to exit the yacht and take a taxi to the airport where they’d board a regular plane headed to Rio de Janeiro.

  While we had been enjoying our time away from the world, Dillon had been using a special computer program designed to bounce the computer signals through numerous satellites so our location wouldn’t be discovered. He was doing heavy research as well; his goal during our trip was to find out all he could on Walt Peterson, every member of his family, his late wife, his health, monetary status, financial holdings, you name it. I wanted every minute detail accounted for.

  It had taken Dillon a while, but he compiled a rather interesting list. I hadn’t had time to look over it until Laurel decided to take a nap one afternoon after I’d kept her up quite late with some extra fun sexual activities.

  As I skimmed the gist of the report, I found something that stood out amongst the financials. There were thousands of dollars being skimmed across various areas of his company and funneled into an offshore account. I pulled out a pen and paper and made note to look into the account name and location. I also wanted to know why the money was being moved. Was it a retirement account? Was it allocated for excess expenditures? What was it for?

  The next part of the report was regarding his family life. His father had disappeared shortly after Walt was born, forcing his grandfather to raise him. Walt married the first love of his life, Penelope Kirkwood, a woman who’d inherited a large fortune from her late father’s estate. Shortly after they were married and Walt obtained my father’s job, his grandfather had changed his will, leaving him his vast fortune before dying only a couple months later. A few years later, Chase was born, and eight years after that, his wife was found dead and his son committed to a psychiatric institution.

  I noted the timeline seemed a bit unnatural. Granted, certain circumstances may have played a hand, as well as coincidence, but something felt off on the whole thing. I put a note on that page for Dillon to check into the causes of death on both Walt’s grandfather and wife. Plus, I wanted a full report as to why Chase was institutionalized. Is this why he couldn’t let go of things? Is this why he chased Laurel around like a mad man? Is he sick? I needed to find these answers and quick in case it might explain some of the behavior and threats we’d experienced. I certainly wasn’t ready to go back to the hornet’s nest that awaited us. Laurel didn’t need that kind of stress, especially not with her high risk pregnancy.

  Walt had been up to his tricks trying to drag both mine and Laurel’s names through the mud with the press. He’d made every false accusation under the sun to make us look bad, rather than have his own dirty laundry aired before the media. My only saving grace was the fact that I was on my honeymoon, so how could I be causing disarray amongst my workers? Never mind the fact that my lawyers were able to counter his every claim with solid proof to the contrary.

  We had only been in Australia for a few days and I noticed that Laurel was tiring more easily than normal and requiring frequent naps, her appetite fading. Something wasn’t right. I could still feel our babies moving around inside her womb, but I had a nagging feeling and used one of the burner phones to call the doctors.

  A couple hours later, a perinatologist named Dr. Nader was flown in from Perth by helicopter. I didn’t care what the cost was; I wanted to ensure that Laurel was fine.

  Dr. Nader went right to work examining Laurel, asking her questions, making note of the coloring under her eyes, nails, and pale complexion. He asked about her morning sickness, whether it had been severe or not, and how her diet had been lately.

  He took a small sample of Laurel’s blood and placed it into a portable machine of some sort. While waiting for the results, he used a portable ultrasound to check the twins’ heartbeats and to check for movement and growth.

  He got on his cell phone and called our doctors back in the U.S. with his findings. They all concluded that she was suffering from iron deficiency. Her earlier vomiting fits must have depleted her reserves and the prenatal vitamins hadn’t been enough to bring them back up entirely. With the growth of the babies, her iron was being depleted more rapidly than it could get into her system, so a supplement would be prescribed to help raise her levels.

  “She should stay on bed rest for the next few days,” Dr. Nader explained. “The supplement can be taken any time during the day, but taking it with orange juice, loaded with Vitamin C, seems to help the absorption rate of the iron. Try to get her t
o eat more red meat, green leafy vegetables, and legumes that are rich in iron.”

  Dr. Nader’s words were like music to my ears. Her and the twins were okay, just needing some extra iron. I was afraid the cross-continental honeymoon or our extra activities in the bedroom lately were to blame.

  “You should see rapid improvement in her energy levels. If she’s not feeling better in a few days, please feel free to call my number directly,” he said as he handed us a card and walked out to the awaiting helicopter.

  When I went back in to check on Laurel, her eyes were full of tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?” I asked as I sat down beside her in the bed.

  “I’ve ruined our honeymoon. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  I lifted her off the pillows and against my chest so I could hold her close. “You haven’t ruined anything, love. Don’t you know any chance I get to spend more time with you in bed, even if it’s just snuggling in each other’s arms, is a wonderful day in my book?”

  A small laugh escaped her mouth.

  “Have you taken your supplement yet?”

  She shook her head.

  “How about I get you some orange juice and we have the chef cook us up some nice filets?”

  She licked her lips, which sent a message straight to my cock, making it stir. “Mmm. That sounds delicious!”

  “I’ll have Thompson talk with the chef right away.”

  I grabbed an orange juice from the mini-fridge and brought it to her, along with her medicine. She took the pills and fell back to sleep for a short while, until she smelled the steaks, which seemed to arouse her senses.

  “Smells delicious,” she murmured when she sat up.

  “I think that meat arouses you more than mine does,” I joked.

  She laughed; it was the first smile I’d seen on her face in days. “Leave it to you to turn feeling bad in to a perverse affair,” she pointed out. “But, frankly, I’d rather eat your meat any day.”

 

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