Warm

"Clark!" There's an urgency to her call, so I grab my towel, wrap it around my waist, and step out of my old shower. "Hurry!"

As I open our bathroom door, I see her still in the tub, leaning against the back; her shoulders are rolled forward as her hands are held awkwardly below the surface of the water. "What's wrong?" My stomach drops.

She turns to me, her face is radiant, even her eyes are smiling. One hand comes out of the water and reaches for me. "Quick, come here!"

I'm on my knees at her side in an instant and she grabs my outstretched hand and pulls it under the now-tepid water. Opening my fingers, she pushes my hand flat against her abdomen. "What is it?"

"Ooh," she gasps like I stung her and I pull my hand away.

"Did I hurt-?"

"No," she interrupts, "here, feel again."

I allow her to place my hand open on her warm skin again and she watches my face for a reaction. I don't understand, I don't feel anything, and I'm about to say so when something moves under my hand. She gasps again. "What was-?" The bump happens again, it's more of a dull point pushing up on my palm. "What was that?"

She shrugs, but her eyes never lose their glow as she almost whispers, "I suppose it's a foot, a knee, or maybe a little bitty behind." She glances up to the ceiling and I can see moisture building in her eyes again, "Isn't he amazing?"

I can feel tears burning my eyes, too. "It's a miracle, I can't even imagine…" I wait for more movement and her words replay in my mind. "You keep calling this baby a 'he'; do you know something I don't?"

She smiles, her skin pinking deliciously, "I don't have any idea, I just can't say 'it' about our child."

Looking down at our hands, I wonder about the possibilities, what a little boy or tiny girl would be like; which one of us or both would he or she resemble.

"Don't you dare, Clark Kent!"

I wince at her swift rebuke and pop my head back in surprise. "Beth, what?"

Apparently, my shock confuses her and her face turns a deep crimson. "Sorry, I thought you were x-raying the baby." Her hand strokes mine under the water and she blinks a tear out the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry, Clark." At the confusion on my face, she continues shakily, "I want to be surprised, I want us both to be surprised. Is that okay with you?"

Sliding my free hand across the rim of the tub, I stroke her wet hair and temple with my thumb. "I don't mind, sweetheart." She smiles sadly and leans into my hand, "It's good you told me, though, my curiosity might've gotten the best of me. And you know how bad I am at keeping secrets."

She laughs heartily at that, warming me through and through. "Yeah, that's hilar-, ooh!"

There's another substantial thump under her skin, against my hand. The movement thrills me, my chest filling with a new warmth and purpose as I watch Beth lean back and smile, her eyes closing happily, and her hands holding mine in place under the water.

Stroking her temple, I notice soap bubbles forming in her hair under the friction of my thumb. "Beth, you still have shampoo…"

"Oh." She starts to sit up, letting go of my submerged hand.

Touching her shoulders, I reassure, "I'll get it." She looks up at me and I nod, "Just lean back against my hand."

"Okay." Her answer is calm and her eyes content.

As I slide my hand under her neck, she leans back tentatively until she realizes my hand is steady, then instantly her weight relaxes fully. Rising to sit on the lip of the old tub, I get a better position. With my right hand, I scoop the warm water and trickle it down the sides of her face, into her hair. A little water splatters near the corner of her eye and she blinks as I grunt in frustration.

"Here," She peels a washcloth from her chest and blindly holds it up for me to take. "This should make it easier."

I take the washcloth from her, but getting back to my task will be difficult as I am rewarded with an ample view of her chest. In fact, with the weight of her head placed solely in my hand, the softness of her hair swirling around my wrist, the arch of her neck with her throat open to me and unprotected, and the bared curves of her soft, delicate breasts glistening with moisture, I am overwhelmed with a renewed sense of responsibility; a responsibility to protect both my wife and child. They have been placed in my hands for safekeeping, for sustaining, for setting free.

Swallowing, I dunk the proffered washcloth into the water and, with better aim, rub it gently along her hairline, down each side and across her forehead, dipping it anew in the warm water before each stroke. She sighs heavily and smiles peacefully.

Setting the cloth free in the water, I trace her hairline with my thumb, rubbing and soothing her scalp and pushing my fingers through her damp hair, straightening and detangling. Her peaceful smile vanishes, her lips part, and her eyelids tighten as her breaths deepen and increase; her breasts rising and falling at an uneven rate.

My insides are lighting up at the silent moans rising from her husky throat and warmth is burning my eyes. Covering her abdomen again with my hand, I try to focus on the life inside her, without success. She shudders and I realize the water seems chilly, at least to my alien touch. "Do you need me to warm up the water a little?"

Her heavy eyes open halfway and she shudders again, her fingers tightening on my wrist under the water. "No, I want to get out," she chokes between pants, a hint of a smile stretching her tortured lips.

--

I can barely breathe; his heavy hand is holding me down firmly in the tub and his fingers are exploring my wet hair and neck. Judging by his open pupils and coarse voice, he's feeling the same way I am. I need to get out of this freezing tub and share in the pleasure we're both wanting.

To my disappointment, his hands leave their positions on my skin, but my confidence is renewed once again as he slides his palms up my rib cage and, gripping my underarms gently, lifts my drippy body up to my feet. His hands are so large, nearly spanning the width of my back as his labored breaths warm my face. He leans over me, causing my heart to jump when my bare breasts touch his warm chest, and he watches as his fingers remove the hospital bandage and smooth over the unblemished place on my back where the bullet hole healed perfectly. Smiling out loud, he kisses the top of my shoulder.

"Clark," I can't whisper more, my mind is incapable of forming words. I shiver once again; craving his warmth.

He turns his face to find my towel and I catch a twinkle in his eye, but it's hard to concentrate on anything as one of his warm wet hands slides up under my hair while the thumb of the other digs against my collarbone.

I can hear my own tiny whine as he releases my skin to tug my towel off the bar and wraps its thickness around me. "Oh, hmmm," I shiver again at the heat the towel possesses, calming my skin. Looking up in surprise, I ask, "Did you just warm-?"

He nods, his lips pouting in desire as he swallows hard.

Wrapping my now dry arms around his waist, I pull him tight against my nakedness and kiss his smooth chest. "I love you so much, Clark Kent." I can feel his deep sigh on my wet hair and I turn my head and squeeze him, feeling his hardness against my abdomen.

He pulls from my grasp and using the heated towel begins drying my feet and legs, letting it slide heavily as he moves up. I nearly choke for air when his towel-covered fists part my thighs and I let my head fall back as I drown in the electric stimulation surging through me.

The next thing I feel is his breath on my face just before his silky lips open deliciously over mine. His height and strength are pushing me back and I wrap my arms around his neck for stability as his tongue fills my hungry mouth. He drags his hands up my backside, and I gasp as he lifts me off the floor. Moaning, I wrap my legs around his waist and giggle into his mouth as he fumbles to drop his own towel and then stumbles over it to step through the bedroom door.

He bends to lower me to the bed and I can hear myself whimper as his hardness bumps against me in the process. I prop my arms to walk myself up the bed for him, but his mouth is pinning me into the mattress, unwilling to let me go. Leaning on his left elbow, Clark guides the tip of his length to my eager entrance and allows his right hand to slide heavily up my skin until his fingers reach my breast. His thumb toys with my nipple torturously and I fight to breathe even as I tug his mouth deeper into my own.

--

Her body is wriggling more and more each minute and I love it. I love when my touches take her to the edge. Her knees are squeezing my hips and her hands are tugging on my hair and back to pull me inside and I can't resist much longer; her desperation and warmth are pulling me with her over that edge.

Wrapping my arms under her back and pulling from her mouth, I can hear her whine in disappointment until I climb up onto the mattress and slide her toward the pillows. She grips my neck during the movement and her back arches the moment I slip inside her moist center. "H'rrgh." She cries out on a gasp.

Her response is the same as the first time I entered her on our wedding night, but this is different. With all the strength I have I halt myself and pull up on my elbows, looking into her face. "Are you okay?"

She nods vigorously and kisses my chin, her neck straining to reach me. Falling back into her embrace desperately, I bury my lips in her hair and push in just a little further. Her hands pull at my ribs and her face bumps against my shoulder and ear in a frustrated rhythm. "Clark," she pants.

I know what she wants, but I don't want to hurt her or the baby. Holding my breath, I lift my face again and ask silently, hoping she'll be strong for both of us, because I'm faltering.

She reads my thoughts and swallows and as her brow folds up seriously, I'm sure she's going to stop me. Tears fill her eyes and, tilting her head in sweet understanding, she cries out on a coated throat, "Baby, you could never hurt us." She lifts her head and kisses my jaw.

My eyes close against my will and I melt against her, letting my desire control me. My back arches tightly and her fingers weave into my hair as she hangs onto me through our rhythmic motion. I can feel my shoulder push her chin up over and over and hear her cry out happily at the sensations ripping through her. Three more amazing thrusts later and I growl into her hair and fall sideways across her, panting for air.

Laying my head onto the pillow beside her, I listen. The baby's heart is amazingly steady even though Beth's is pounding. Opening my eyes, I see her smiling in the darkness with her eyes closed. She opens her mouth to take in a couple of settling breaths and lays her arms on me like I'm her personal blanket.

The peace and calm in her is infectious and exhaustion from this day of emotional stress overwhelms me. Tucking my lips against her soft shoulder, I close my eyes and slip into a deep sleep.

--