by Katy Winters
She whisks herself away out of the room and I shift my gaze back to Devin. “Care to explain that?”
“Nope,” he says casually. “Help me get dressed and I’ll show you how to get back to the hotel room. I think I’m going to walk out of here against medical advice. After we take a nap, I’ve got some plans that you need to help me with.”
“No plans! We are not having plans! You’re resting, and I’m taking care of you, and--” he captured my lips again, biting warningly. I grip the railing of the bed to keep from falling as I grow dizzy beneath his control, his legs locked around my thigh. I can’t move even if I wanted to.
“No,” he murmurs against my lips, holding me hard. “This is what we call a small setback. We have plans, and you’re going to love them.”
“Fine,” I whisper, blushing faintly. “But our plans need to be rescheduled until Wednesday. Promise?”
He reaches down and squeezes my hip firmly, drawing a soft gasp from between my lips. I sway a little as I climb down from the bed and he grins. “I’m going to need the rest, I guess,” he says softly, reaching up and brushing my hair out of my eyes again. “It’s going to be one hell of a date.”
Chapter Five
Devin
After my “small setback,” as well as an issue with mph/kph while she drove us back to the hotel, I am propped up against the headboard as Jenny sleeps with her head on my stomach. We’re even closer than we were before; Jenny did not leave the hospital once, and even had Sandra bring her extra clothes. She showered in the patient bathroom and refused to leave my side. There’s nothing more I can think of than wanting to be with her.
I’ve spent an awful lot of time kissing her, touching her hips, rubbing her back, being as close to her as possible. The situation is getting a little desperate; every time I see her, there’s a tent in my hospital gown, and she’s not an idiot. We tease each other, with her laying her hip against mine, her belly pressing softly into my engorged cock. I kiss her neck, making her giggle and sigh. She lies on her side and presses her ass into me, wiggling until she gets into place. I show her my tattoo, the thick, black outline of my family’s crest on my chest, and she kisses every inch of ink, licking my skin. We’re playing a dangerous game, and we both know it.
We fill the prescriptions immediately after leaving the hospital; my head is fuzzy now, and all I can think about is how beautiful she is. I’m definitely glad that I’m not the one driving tonight, but no pain pills in the world are going to keep me from what I have planned.
I check the clock; it’s been about seven hours since we’d left the hospital. I swallow another pill and the antibiotics and look at the bag with earlier purchases that Sandra had put in my car.
This date is going to be amazing. I close my eyes, smiling, and lean down to brush her hair off of her face. “Baby girl,” I whisper.
She shifts restlessly, her head devastatingly near my cock. There is nothing in this world that will ever prevent me from being turned on by this girl, whether I’m wounded or not. She exhales slowly, the warm air flowing over the slit in my boxers, and I groan, trying to stay still. My plans do not involve a blow job in the hotel, as much as I want to see her sweet lips around me.
I reach down and caress her lips with my fingers; she shocks me by opening her mouth, pulling two fingers in with her teeth. She suckles strongly, resting her free hand against my stomach, and I moan, head falling back against the headboard with a loud ‘thunk.’ “Baby girl, don’t,” I manage, pulling my fingers out of her mouth. “I did not plan on staying in this hotel room all night, and you’re not gonna wanna miss what we’re going to do.”
She leans up just enough as I pull away to bite my fingers gently and I wince as my hands automatically fly to her head, wanting to grab her and pull her down onto me. She looks torn between being horrified at the movement and turned on by the thick tent in my underwear. “Are you okay?” she finally asks.
“Fine,” I breathe, slowly sitting up and rubbing her back. “Just sore.” I pause, mentally going over my suitcase. “I don’t think I can wear jeans around you anymore, though.”
“Why?”
I grin, grabbing the band of my boxers to show her the effect she has on me. “Because I’ve been hard every moment you’re in my vision from the moment I met you,” I reply, pulling them up with a soft ‘snap.’ “Come button my shirt for me and then get ready. You’re driving.”
Jenny
I don’t know where we’re going until we get there. The soft, dying light is behind the Butterfly Conservatory, making the glass glitter and the butterflies inside move their wings slowly. I turn to him, frowning. “Wait, aren’t they closed?”
“Not for us,” he replies mildly. “I made arrangements.” He saunters up to the door and uses a small, golden key to unlock it. Dropping it into his pocket, he pulls me into the building, and I follow him, in awe. Butterflies are everywhere; the room is thick with humidity and warm. I’m glad I’d bought a sleeveless dress. There was every color of butterfly imaginable and then some; I laugh as we walk slowly toward a small waterfall on a platform, smiling as one lands on Devin’s shoulder.
“This is so beautiful,” I whisper, in awe. “How did you…?”
He shakes his head slowly, and I realize there is a small blanket and a picnic basket on the platform. He tugs me down carefully, leaning back against the wooden railing, and pulls me into his lap. “I have a lot of plans for tonight,” he muses quietly.
He rummages through the picnic basket with the hand on his good arm, gently moving to hold my hip with the injured side. “This may be crazy, baby girl, but I’ve decided that we’re going to get married,” he says as a huge smile brightens his entire face. “I don’t know about you, but everything is just...right.” He takes out a small, bright blue box, holding it out to me. “I can’t open it, but the idea’s there.”
I open the box to find a beautiful ring; a large, emerald-cut diamond with small square accents down the sides. Tears immediately spring to my eyes, and I blink hard, looking up at him. “Are you sure?”
I hold out my hand, shaking, and a beautiful green butterfly lands on me just as he slides the ring onto my finger. We marvel at it, watching it move its wings slowly, and he holds my hand away from our bodies as he leans in, kissing me possessively. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” he whispers, before licking my lips.
I shiver in the heat of the conservatory and feel the butterfly flying away; he lays my hand against my lap and inserts a finger through the keyhole of my dress, stroking the tops of my breasts. “I love you,” he murmurs, and I move to straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck carefully as he deepens the kiss, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.
Moaning, I run my fingertips up and down the uninjured side of his chest, and I feel his nipple harden under my attention. Mine are so hard that they hurt and he leans down, as if sensing my pain, and takes my nipple into his mouth through the silk fabric of the dress. “Devin,” I gasp, tilting my head back in pleasure.
“Yes, love,” he replies absently, moving to the other side and capturing my nipple between his teeth. “How much was this dress?”
“Sandra wouldn’t tell me,” I said, watching the butterflies fly above my head as I breathe raggedly, squirming onto his lap. He’s so hard in his thin slacks; he’d even told me while we were driving that he wasn’t wearing boxers beneath him. I move in his lap until he’s lined up against my slit through our clothes, and listen to the deep groan against my breasts.
“Good,” he says huskily, gazing up at me from between my breasts. He grabs the fabric at my hips with a grunt, and I know it hurts him; I open my mouth to stop him when he tears the dress from hip to knee. “Don’t,” he whispers, holding me still. “Don’t move.”
His hand drifts back onto my hip and I relax as he stops moving; the last thing I want to see is pain in his eyes. His free hand slides under my dress and he moans loudly as he realizes that I’m not weari
ng underwear either. “Fuck, baby,” he breathes, and reaches between us, sliding his fingers against my wet slit. “What are you trying to do to me?”
I’m so wet that I know my dress will be ruined; just resting against his hard cock is enough to make me squirm. When his fingers reach my clit my hips buck hard, grinding into his, and I emit a tiny shriek as he pinches my clit between his fingers, rolling it firmly. “Devin… you should be resting,” I say cautiously, panting.
“I’ll rest,” he replies coolly, leaning down. I can only lean down with him or fall; I lay back against the blanket. He hisses as my heels drive into his ass and arches into me, pressing his thick cock into my pelvis. “Don’t take them off,” he whispers. “God, that feels so fucking good.”
“I’ll rest when I’ve come so hard inside of you that you walk out of here carrying my child,” he says, kissing down the front of my dress. His fingers dip into my pussy slowly, pressing against that slight barrier, his thumb rubbing my clit firmly.
“No,” I whimper, grabbing him by his good arm. “Please. Please, Devin,” I beg, gasping. I hold him tightly with my heels and he groans again, closing his eyes.
“No what? Do you need me to stop--”
I cut him off by reaching down and grabbing his large cock through his jeans. My hand won’t even close around him. “No. I don’t want you to go down on me; I want you inside of me. Now.”
He chuckles, effortlessly sliding up my body. “I don’t think you’re understanding the dynamic of this relationship,” he purrs quietly, and he leans back enough that he can unbutton his pants, sliding them down to his knees. He moves the flap of my dress to the side, staring down at my pussy for a long moment. He swallows hard, his gaze jerkily looking up to find mine. “Then again, neither do I.”
“Tell me,” I taunt him; he presses the head of his dick between my wet lips, teasing my entrance.
“Oh no,” he growls, nudging my head back with his nose and beginning to lick and suck on my neck. “You tell me. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you...” I wrap my legs around him again, lightly resting my heels against his ass, and he rubs up and down my slit. I know his pre-come is mixing with my juices and I moan at the thought, arching into him before he pulls away. “Please!”
He hesitates, feeling the thin barrier inside of me. “It’s going to hurt this first time, baby,” he says quietly, resting his forehead against my neck. “I’m sorry.”
I nod, closing my eyes, my core burning for him. “God, Devin, I don’t care. Please, take me, make me yours!”
I can feel his muscles clench above me as he shudders, and he leans up on his good arm to look into my eyes. He gently guides himself into my slit, taking a deep breath. “God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, and thrusts sharply.
“Fuck!” I shriek, arching my back. Tears spring to my eyes at the pain that blossoms deep inside of me. He stays still, shaking violently, breathing fast and hard.
“Are you okay?” he whispers again, and each word is ragged, clipped. I know it’s taking all of his self-control to not move. I wait quietly, whimpering, while the burning sensation slowly changes to feeling full, full in a way I’d never felt before.
“Yeah,” I reply, dazed, staring up at him in shock. “I’m… fine, I’m good...”
“Good,” he says back, slowly pressing into me, harder, further, until I’m so full of him that it burns again, but it feels so good, especially as he starts to move in and out of me, slowly at first. “Because I can’t stop…God, baby!”
I grab his good shoulder and the other hand grabs the blanket below us as I shudder, rocking my hips into his. “Please, please, please,” I chant, looking down between us. His cock is stained red with my blood, glistening in the moonlight as butterflies float above our bodies, as if blessing our union.
“Please what,” he groans, and his hips twitch, driving him inside of me harder. His hand on my hip shakes and he looks down into my eyes again.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, and I grip him hard around the waist with my legs, digging my heels into his ass again.
“Oh, damn.” He moans loudly, audible over the sound of the waterfall, and thrusts firmly, his nails burying themselves in the ample flesh of my hip, and I rise to meet him eagerly, even as he fucks me so deeply that I can feel him touching my cervix.
I reach between us and start to rub my clit and he cries out as he watches me touch myself. I pull up the hood of my clit and stroke myself hard and fast until he picks up the rhythm that I want. He’s pounding into me, growling with each stroke and I start to moan with each panted breath, my eyes closing and my back arching hard.
“I fucking love to watch you touch yourself,” he snarls, and his thrusts are erratic now. “You better come soon, baby girl, because I can’t keep this up much longer.”
He doesn’t need to worry; my moans become screams as my hand mashes down firmly against my clit and I can feel myself coming around him, drenching him in my juices, dragging my nails down the blanket as I cry out his name. “Devin, come in me, please!” I scream, grinding my hips into his, trying to fuck him more, harder, faster as the soft moonlight turns into a bright white that swirls in my vision as I come for him.
I can barely hear him as he shouts, “I’m gonna come, baby!” thrusting into me until he’s balls-deep inside of me, throwing his head back and howling. “I’m going to come so hard you’re gonna carry my baby,” he groans. I can feel his cock pulsing, feel him coming inside of me, painting my wet pink flesh white with his seed.
He falls to the ground beside me, pulling me against him with his good arm, and we both try to remember how to breathe. I’ve never felt so high, so good, so close to someone in my life, and I start to cry softly, smiling. I think it’s the smile that keeps him from panicking. “What is it, honey?”
I clear my throat, hoarse from screaming. “I love you,” I admit. “I just didn’t know it until Sandra told me what happened. And I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
He nestles into me, closing his eyes, and starts to rub my belly with his hand gently. “Good,” he murmurs against my hair, sounding exhausted. “Because you’re not getting out of here without me getting you pregnant...”
Devin
We wake up to the faint light of morning in the Butterfly Conservatory, listening to the waterfall. She’s awake before I am, and she’s looking at her ruined dress and laughing. “They’re closed on Thursdays, right?” she asks hopefully.
“They are today,” I confirm. God, my shoulder hurts. But looking at her, her lower lips still puffy from the sex we’d had—I’d woken her up once more, and she woke me up with her lips around my cock a few hours ago—she’s so beautiful, and I’m beginning not to care if I hurt. I want her again and again.
Her finger sparkles softly in the light and I smile, satisfied. No one can deny that she’s mine now, not even her. The thought of having her as my wife calms some primal instinct that I didn’t even know I had; after last night, I’ve claimed her, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
“Good,” she observes. “Because you might still have clothes, but I’m gonna have to borrow this blanket.”
I rest my head in her naked lap, closing my eyes. The few birds in the conservatory are chirping and I smile. There’s nowhere better in the entire world than right here, right now. “You’re gonna have to drive in a blanket,” I remind her. “You better not get pulled over.”
She glances at me slyly. “So what if I do?” she purrs, and my naked cock hardens immediately at her teasing. “Maybe we can talk our way out of it.”
I smack her on the breast playfully and she laughs, smiling down at me. “I don’t want to leave,” she confesses, then looks down at her hand. “I didn’t actually answer you.” She pauses long enough that I start to worry. “I love you,” she says again, reaching down to stroke my face. “And you didn’t really ask me, now that I think about it. But yes, I will marry you.”
My mouth wid
ens into a broad grin. “I knew you would,” I reply confidently. “How could you say no?”
She reaches across my body and squeezes my cock, her hand not fully meeting around it, and I shudder. “How could I?” she taunts me.
Oh, God, I’m in so much trouble.
Epilogue
Jenny
I waddle out of the kitchen of our house by Lake Ontario with a steaming hot pie, setting it down on the dinner table. Sandra and her wife, Sarah, are sitting there with Devin. His smile is so bright it could blind me. Every time he sees my swollen belly he has to touch it, wrap his hand around it possessively. I’ve still got three months to go, and I’ve found out the hard way that pregnancy hormones make me jump my husband relentlessly. It’s hard to stay clothed in our house.
“So what are you going to name her?” Sandra asks.
Devin beams even more brightly. When he found out we were having a girl, I swear that our unborn child had already wrapped him around her tiny finger. He immediately went out and started to color-coordinate the nursery (purple; I refuse to allow Barbie-doll pink in our house) with the theme I’d chosen (owls; not an easy combination). “Natalie,” he says softly. They’re the first ones we’ve told.
“Natalie Lauren,” I add. “After his mother.” I’d learned all about his family, about the death of his mother at a young age; I couldn’t think of a better way to honor her than by having her name live on with her grandchild.
Sarah reaches out to touch my belly and I roll my eyes and oblige. It’s a magnet for people everywhere; everyone has to touch the pregnant girl. “You’re lucky, she’s awake,” I observe, and wince as she kicks hard. “Maybe I’m not quite as lucky.”
Devin stands up and wraps his arms around me, hands supporting my belly. His wound really wasn’t that bad in the end; he healed pretty quickly, considering he abused the hell out of his shoulder at every opportunity that he came across that involved me taking my clothes off. “Well, I’m lucky,” he said firmly. “Luckier than I ever thought I could be.” He tilts my chin up and kisses me from behind, and I can feel him smiling against my lips.
