Dawn Page 12
Did all couples enjoy the familiarity that Lorna and I shared?
I wasn’t one to ask others questions about such matters. And yet I hoped they did. From the first time Lorna and I were intimate, we had a connection I’d never imagined. My comfort around her and hers around me seemed so natural and over the years has only intensified.
Placing my elbow on my pillow, I lifted my head to my hand and stared through the darkness of our bedroom at my wife. Even in sleep, she radiated not only her external beauty but her internal heart. Lorna loved without pause, cared for everyone, and gave of herself without question.
The thoughts and feelings circulating through me at the sight of her naked beside me ran the gamut from acceptable in polite company all the way to downright erotic. For only a moment, my thoughts drifted back in time.
Our first meeting.
The day I proposed.
The day we married.
For some reason, in my extremely limited knowledge of love and marriage—because I’d never thought it was a route I’d take—when those milestones occurred, when we held hands and were pronounced man and wife, I believed we’d reached the pinnacle of our journey.
We were two people with completely different backgrounds who found themselves in the same world. We’d successfully met, fallen in love, and made it official before God and man.
What more could there possibly be?
I teased a brunette curl, springing it between my thumb and forefinger before pushing another stray curl away from Lorna’s stunning face and peaceful expression. As my sight adjusted to the lack of light, I took in her features. It was amusing how I could see her every day and never tire of anything about her. Her long lashes fluttered, her pert nose pointed subtly upward, and her lips parted slightly with each breath.
My mind went to what the world thought of love. The older I became, the more my reading interests strayed away from fiction, focusing more in the reality of nonfiction. Biographies, as well as scientific, political, and mathematical research held my attention. Yet over the years, I’d picked up a few of Lorna’s romance novels. Many of them ended with the saying of vows and the committing of two souls to one another, as if that was the end.
Looking back with the hindsight of almost a decade, I realized how incredibly wrong I’d been and how misleadingly superficial those storylines were.
The day Lorna and I committed our lives to one another wasn’t the destination. It was only the first leg of our journey, one that I hoped would last for at least another fifty to sixty years. The love and pride I felt that day as she walked down the makeshift aisle holding tightly to Patrick’s arm was greater than any emotion I’d ever known. It had felt as though my chest would burst with adoration, and now my same chest ached with the hunger for more.
While the overabundance of emotion currently within me could easily be attributed to our recent traumas—the reality that I could have lost her in Montana or she could have lost me in Englewood—I believed the cause was more substantial and less superficial than that.
I knew from experience that the overwhelming love I was experiencing tonight paled in comparison to what I’d feel tomorrow or in another ten years. Perhaps it was what the officiant meant when he’d said to love and cherish from this day forward.
The love he described wasn’t static. It wasn’t an emotion that could be placed in a box to open now and then when it was convenient or practical. No, what he’d meant was that true love was dynamic—a living, breathing entity. It needed to be nurtured. And when it was, it satisfied while simultaneously created a hunger for more of that other person.
Our other half.
Watching Lorna was no longer enough. I needed more. Softly, I ran my fingertips over her warm curves. Even in slumber, her parted lips came together, curling into a grin. As I circled each nipple and moved my touch lower over her flat stomach, Lorna squirmed against the soft sheets and rewarded my effort with soft mews that threatened to reroute my circulation.
That love we shared on our wedding day wasn’t meant to be the greatest we ever knew. Instead, it was a seed that we planted together, tended, and allowed to grow.
Exhaling, I laid my head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.
Images of Maples and Zella infiltrated my purer thoughts.
Lorna deserved a good man in her life. My participation in recent events, as well as a long litany of previous crimes, precluded my ability to qualify for such a descriptor. I wasn’t good. I couldn’t even claim a desire to change my ways.
As I recalled the recent deaths, I didn’t feel satisfied. The blood I’d tasted hadn’t quenched my thirst for justice and retaliation; it whetted my appetite. I wanted more.
My list grew.
Andrew Jettison, a.k.a Jet, was at the top.
Stephanie Moore/Morehead or whoever the blonde woman was came in second.
A new thought occurred to me.
Anna Maples.
Where was she now?
How had she added to my wife’s distress?
I stilled as Lorna’s petite hand came to my chest and she lifted her head. “Are you going to leave me?”
“Never.”
The tips of her lips curled upward as she rested her chin on my shoulder. “Good. I meant, are you headed to 2?”
“Soon. I was momentarily distracted by the fucking gorgeous woman in my bed.”
Lorna’s hand slipped lower until her fingers surrounded my now-hardening dick.
Exhaling, I closed my eyes, stretching my neck as I lifted my chin toward the ceiling. “Fuck, Lorna.”
Her hand moved up and down as she lifted herself. Short brown hair veiled her profile as she gently peppered my chest with kisses. Flipping back her hair, she turned, her seductive gaze meeting mine. “You’re the one who took off the bandages. How do you feel?”
“Like I could fuck you and then run a marathon.” That wasn’t entirely honest. I’d probably need to choose one or the other. At this moment, there was no question which one would win.
The emerald of Lorna’s gaze sparkled with the perfect combination of desire and naughty thoughts. This was the moment where the emotions I’d recognized earlier tilted away from the purity of wedded love to the erotic musings of one man and one woman.
“What if we take it slow?” she asked.
Rolling toward Lorna, I held myself over her. Her pert tits stared up at me, her nipples reddening as they grew harder by the second. “Mrs. Murray, I will go slow, but I want you to know I’ve come to a realization.”
Smiling, her shorter hair fanned out around her beautiful face like a dirty halo. It was perfect for the thoughts I was entertaining. “What realization would that be, Mr. Murray?”
Bending my neck, I seized one of her nipples, sucking it taut. Her whimper reverberated through our bedroom as I did the same to the second. “You, Lorna Murray, married a bad man.”
Lorna shook her head against the pillow. “I married the best man.”
“No, sweetheart, because at this moment, I want to do very bad things to you.”
Reid
Lorna’s breaths deepened as my lips connected near her collarbone and worked south, kiss by kiss, and nip by nip, until I made my way to her core. One lick told me that my wife was already wet and ready for me.
“Reid,” she called out my name as I spread her legs and buried my face in her slick, warm cunt. One arm over her hips kept her in place as her body writhed at my onslaught of ministrations. As her hands searched for something to grasp, her fingers came to the top of my head. The more I tasted of her sweet essence, the harder my dick became. I could drink from her fountain as her moans of ecstasy floated through the air for hours and never grow tired.
Every now and then, I’d tease her clit with my tongue or teeth. The latter caused her to gasp and her legs to push toward me, creating a vise I had no desire to escape.
“Reid, shit, I’m going to come.”
“Let go, Lorna. Enjoy it. I pro
mise it won’t be the last time.” As my tongue continued, I added two fingers and my thumb pressed against her tight hole. It was as my thumb pushed through the resistance that her body stiffened, her cunt quivered, and satisfied noises filled the air.
When Lorna opened her eyes, I was there, our noses touching. “Tell me, sweetheart, how slow do you want it?”
Her lips met mine as her tongue sought entrance, sharing her sweet taste. When she pulled back, she said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I sat back. “Roll over, Lorna, show me your ass.”
For only a millisecond, she hesitated.
I was a smart man. My knowledge wasn’t a quality I gave much consideration, but this move I was about to make, I’d considered. I knew exactly what I was doing.
Running my hand over her ass, I hummed. “Your ass is perfect. My cock is so fucking hard.”
Lorna’s forehead fell to the pillows as I spread her legs and worked my way in between on my knees. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I worked her clit with one hand as I pumped her cunt with two and then three fingers.
The expectancy was more than I could take. Spreading her folds, I lined up the head of my dick with her entrance. For a moment, I waited.
A soft whine came from my wife as she wiggled with anticipation.
Without further hesitation, I plunged balls deep inside her warm, wet pussy. Lorna’s gasp filled the air as my fingers gripped her hips, holding us both in place.
I tried to do as she said and move slowly though my instinct was to do the opposite.
I didn’t know if my chest no longer hurt or if it was that my cock felt too good to think of anything else. I refused to give it more thought. My concern was the sensual woman who not only took everything I could give but pushed back, giving of herself and wanting more.
Slowly and deliberately, I pistoned my hips, moving in and out. This position allowed me to plunge as deep as possible. The friction was off the charts, setting every nerve in my entire body on alert. It was as if there was a time bomb within me, ticking away. Detonation was imminent.
The wanton desire within me continued to build until moving slowly was no longer a possibility. Perspiration beaded on my forehead as my speed increased. The way Lorna’s body contracted around mine was like a silken glove two sizes too small. My balls tightened as the sounds of our union filled the room until beneath me, Lorna cried out. Her fucking cunt squeezed me in a series of contractions as she came undone for a second time.
With my cock slick with her come, I pulled out, finding my next destination.
“Reid?” she asked, her neck craning as our eyes met.
“I’ll make it good.”
Lorna nodded before sucking in a breath as the head of my dick pressed against her tight hole. Her fingers gripped the pillows as I pushed through the first barrier. I ran my hand down her back, beginning at her neck, feeling each vertebra down her spine. “I don’t need to tell you to relax. You can do this.”
I knew my wife, inside and out. As moments passed, I sensed her conscious effort to grant me entrance to her most-guarded opening. Such as a series of connections, each link loosened until the lock was freed. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, her muscles relaxed.
“That’s it.”
Reaching around, I found her clit, rubbing circles as I whispered praise and adoration in her ear. With the sound of my voice combined with my attention to her bundle of nerves, Lorna’s breathing slowed and her knees began to bounce. Deeper still, I moved. “Almost there.”
Lorna nodded against the pillows as I found my way home. “That’s my good girl. Your ass is so damn tight.” I reached forward, stroking her neck and cheek. “Talk to me, Lorna.”
“Fuck me, Reid.”
Closing my eyes, I did as she commanded.
Every move felt too good, too tight.
“Touch yourself, Lorna.”
Beneath me, she repositioned to do as I said.
Soon our bedroom filled with sounds, primal noises that had passed the lips of men and women for centuries. Words mixed with utterances, some making sense while others simply cried out with wanton desire. These were sounds shared by two people who found the utmost pleasure when joined as one.
“God, Reid, shit, I’m going to come again.”
Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The rush came from deep within me as I held tight to her hips and we both came undone. Lorna’s body quaked as my cock pulsated and I filled her with my seed. My knees gave out seconds after Lorna’s as we fell to the bed.
Summoning all my strength, I pulled out and climbed from our bed. In less than a minute, I cleaned myself and returned with a warm, damp washcloth, ready to tend to the woman I loved more than anything.
After I was done, Lorna rolled over to her back and reached for my hand. Her head tilted to one side. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I’m surprised after what I told you about Jet—”
I brought my finger to her lips. “Don’t say his name or Maples. Sweetheart, I took you, your wet, warm cunt and your tight ass for one reason.”
She grinned. “Because they’re yours.”
“No, Lorna, because they’re yours and you let me. For not the first time, you shared yourself, all of you, with me. It’s the fucking best gift you could give and I’ll accept that gift every time, and I promise to care for it, to treasure it, and to love you not because of it but always.
“I’m not living with the ghosts of those deviants in our bed with my wife and neither will you. One is dead. The other one will die sooner rather than later.” I touched Lorna’s forehead. “When you think about a dick inside you, think of mine. Only mine.”
Her emerald eyes glistened as she nodded.
“Lorna, there might be some women who would have had a problem with what we just did.”
Lorna shrugged.
“Be honest with me, did you have a problem? Are you one of those women?”
“No, because as I’ve said a million times, Reid Rendell Murray, I trust you.”
“I can make love gently, but that wasn’t my plan tonight.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No, I’m not treating you like glass, Lorna. You’ve shown me time and time again you’re not going to break. I guess, I wanted to show you that I know that about you. I know you’re the strongest woman in the world, and I don’t need to treat you with kid gloves.”
“Thank you.”
“You and me, sweetheart, we’re going to move forward from all of this. When we’re making love, there will be no thoughts of anyone else. You can be certain that you’re the only one on my mind.”
She grinned. “You make it hard to think of anyone else.”
“No, Lorna” —I winked— “you were the one who made me hard.”
Her smile grew before fading as she brought her hand to my chest. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m not made of glass either.”
“I guess that makes us an unbreakable team.”
“I guess it does.” I brushed my lips over hers. “You have a few more hours before your alarm. If you think you can sleep.”
Lorna stifled a yawn. “I had at least three earthshaking orgasms in the last hour. I’m positive I can sleep.”
Standing, I lifted the blankets over her and planted another kiss on the top of her head.
“You’re going to 2,” she said, more as a statement than a question.
“If you’re all right with that.”
“I’m afraid if you stay here, I won’t get any more sleep.”
“You’re right. I’d be too tempted to help you with number four.”
A soft pink hue filled her cheeks. “That wouldn’t be so bad.” She sighed. “Go, Reid. Do what you do. But before you leave, you need to know something.”
“What is that?”
“You’re wrong about something you said. You’re not the bad guy. You, Mason, Sparrow, and Pat
rick, are the good guys. I don’t need to know by what means you accomplish your goals because I know you and all of them. You are the good ones. I married the best.” She craned her neck upward and kissed me. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Lorna.”
Her eyes closed as she settled under the covers.
As I dressed and headed to 2, my wife’s praise rang in my head. I wasn’t certain I deserved it, but I wouldn’t deny it was a comforting lyric to have playing in the background.
Lorna
All five of us ladies turned toward the archway of the kitchen at the sound of footsteps upon the tile. The discussion the four men had been having stilled as they turned the corner, passed the grand staircase, and entered the kitchen. Simultaneously, the discussion the other four ladies and I had been having also quieted.
Our conversation hadn’t been anything consequential. After all we’d been through, including the memories Araneae and I were having, insignificant fit the bill as we worked together to create a breakfast fit for nine. Once, after Madeline and Ruby moved in to the tower, Reid asked me how I felt about no longer being in charge of the penthouse kitchen. I’d smiled and told him I still was. Officially, it was Araneae’s home, and while she could toast and butter English muffins with the best of us, cooking wasn’t her forte nor did she want it to be. She was content to let me lead.
And if I were completely honest, breakfast and its preparation was my favorite meal of day. The sun rose and grew brighter outside the large windows as each of our inhabitants started their day alongside the others. No matter what had transpired the day before, the week before, or even privately in our own apartments, each morning was a new start.
My green gaze met the dark brown one I adored as a smile curled my lips and my mind slipped back to some time before the sun rose. Simply recalling Reid’s and my time together made my nipples tighten and my core twist. It wasn’t that Reid had left me wanting; that couldn’t be further from the truth. After he’d left me, my completely satiated body had melted blissfully into our bed under the warm cover of blankets, and I’d drifted peacefully into a hard-earned, sex-induced slumber.