I had no idea how much I needed this.
Beau keeps kissing me, tongue on my clit now as I ride out the orgasm.
When it’s over, I laugh. Relief pools inside my stomach, cool and quiet. My fingers loosen their chokehold on Beau’s hair. I’m surprised I didn’t tear the damn stuff out from the root.
Beau grins at me from between my legs, wiggling his brow. His face is covered in lube.
I grab him and pull him up to me, my legs falling from his shoulders, and wipe his cheeks and mouth with my hand. He’s laughing now, too, our lips tangling, knees and teeth knocking. It’s awkward. Delightful. Hilarious.
Looping my arms around his neck, I pull him in for a hug, licking what’s left of the lube and my arousal off my own lips.
“That’s…an interesting flavor,” I say.
“Are you kidding? It’s you. Best fucking thing I’ve put in my mouth in a while. And that’s saying something because I get to eat some of the greatest food on the planet.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re gross.”
“You’re delicious.” He bites down, hard, on my bottom lip. “See? Patience pays off.”
“Who taught you that?”
He grins, even as the mirth in his eyes fades. “You. By way of gnocchi schlongs.”
I laugh, the lightness in my center making me feel high.
Beau’s eyes flick to my dimple. He covers it with his thumb, pressing down and circling.
“Drives me nuts,” he murmurs. “I want to bite it.”
“That a good or a bad thing?”
“Good.” He trails his lips over it, then actually bites it, making me laugh all over again.
I think, maybe, the joy of motherhood isn’t always about kids. It’s about you. Us. Mothers, finding strength of spirit and of self so we can let go of the women we think we should be, and become the women we truly are.
I have never felt more trapped than I do as a mom.
But when I experience freedom, fleeting and seldom though the occasions may be, it’s all the more intense and genuine.
Joyful.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Beau
Sex.
That’s all this is. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I need to keep this, our encounter, there. On the right side of the hookup scale.
Bel and I have had the conversation on said scale many times.
There’s fucking, which is purely physical.
There’s sex, which is physical with just a dash of emotional connection. Enough to make the sex better, but not enough to fall for someone.
Then there’s making love. It’s sex at its physical and emotional peak, the stars aligning to enhance the experience to an almost divine degree.
I can tell by the look in Bel’s eyes we are bordering on dangerous territory here.
She’s sated. Soft.
When I reach down to play with her pussy, I can still feel the pulse of her muscles. Distant, but there.
An orgasm like that doesn’t happen from manual stimulation alone. Annabel is feeling aroused and cared for in every part of her being. Physical. Emotional. Spiritual.
I could fucking die of happiness, knowing I’ve made her feel this way.
I’m having a really hard time not feeling that way myself.
I shouldn’t. If anything, I should take things slow.
But the adoration I have for this girl is spilling over in my chest. It’s difficult to control.
She’s covering my hand with her own between her legs, guiding my middle finger inside her. She’s hot and tight. I imagine burying myself inside her and how good she’ll feel.
The head of my dick nudges her belly, seeking release. I’m rock hard and heavy with need. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.
The bottom knuckle of my thumb grazes her C-section scar, and her hand goes still.
“Is it sensitive?” I ask.
She tucks her head into my shoulder. “Not really. It’s actually kinda numb. So weird, right? I admit I have a hard time looking at it, much less touching it.”
“Let me know if I bother it at all.”
Her hair glides against my skin as she shakes her head. “This is gonna sound funny, but your touch…it’s gentle but also firm but careful but also, like, really confident. It makes me feel confident, too.”
Lord above.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice gruff.
She starts to move our hands again.
“I’m ready,” she breathes, mouth finding mine. “For you.”
I groan against her lips. She’s trusting me with her first time since Maisie arrived. I can only imagine how scary it must feel, attempting sex after going through what Bel did.
But she’s being brave, and she’s trying, and kind of like my confidence makes her more confident, her bravery makes me braver.
Her trust is sacred to me. I can’t let her down.
So I kiss her hard and good, then I stand up to grab a condom and the lube. I try not to worry too much about how the hell I’m going to leave her when we’re done.
Later.
I’ll deal with the fallout later.