Elizabeth woke up in darkness. She turned slightly to look at the glowing
face of the alarm clock. 3:15 am. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of
light, she turned back to Robert. He was lying on his back, his right arm
folded over his chest his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Elizabeth
picked up his arm and slid herself under it so that she could press her
cheek against his shoulder, safely encircled. Robert's gentle fingers
traced a tickly pattern over her hip, making her wriggle a little and sigh.
She inched up so that their faces were closer and so that his hand could
find just the right spot to stroke on the inside of her thigh. When he
found her favorite rhythm, she moaned her contentment. She arched her
back, encouraging him, but he suddenly stopped, froze, and pulled away.
She heard a loud swallow as he fought for control of his desire over on the
far edge of the bed. "Robert?" she questioned, emerging slowly and
disappointedly from her transe.
"You know I want to, Lizzie," be began, haltingly, "but there's so much happening here. I can't." She bit her lip to stifle a protest and just nodded, reaching out for him all of the same. And he couldn't resist her sad little expression, her delicate fingers and forearms stretched towards him. He half-growled and grabbed her up and held her close, kissing her hair fiercely and possessively. He moved his face away from hers a little to look at her face, then he moved his body away just a bit to look at her body. With one finger he traced a line between her breasts and then over her belly, finally wrapping his hand around the small of her back to draw her to him again. Burying his face in her hair, he whispered, "You're really pregnant?"
She nodded and made a little sound between a yes and a whimper, and suddenly his mouth was pressing against hers, his hand on her lower back was moving her towards him, their bodies were melting into one another, he was inside her and moving gently, carefully, rocking against her slowly if not to wake the child sleeping within. "Hmmm" she moaned as his fingers stroked her ear, her lips, her throat, then her breasts, before his mouth moved down to join their tender motion. He loves us, she thought triumphantly.
And she reached down to thread her arms through his, to pull him up towards her and deeper into her. Gazing into his dark eyes, Elizabeth smiled and nodded, assuring Robert that she was feeling exactly what he was, that this was real and good and true. An unusually powerful surge of emotion took Robert by surprise so that he gasped and lost his balanced and fell away down onto his side, eyes wide with astonishment at the incredibly strong sensation he had just experienced.
Elizabeth turned to him and laughed, stroking his face with her hand and closing his still-open mouth with her fingers, "You were looking at me as if you'd never seen me!" she teased. He swallowed, "Well," he began slowly, "I've never seen you quite like this. Your eyes..." he trailed. He didn't want to start with the old clichés about the radiance of a pregnant woman, but Elizabeth looked as if she was lit up from the inside, like she was aglow with warmth, with an inner light that made him want to be so close to her, to be inside her, that drew him to her like...a bug. He laughed aloud at his thought. "What?" she asked irritatedly swatting at his cheek. He just chuckled and shook his head before pulling her into a hug.
Holding her, he thought about how happy he was at this moment, and how the idea that there might not be an endless series of moments like this to light up his nights was a dark and scary prospect indeed. But would he take away her happiness to assure his own?
And how could he persuade her against having this baby that he too was beginning to love and want? His desire for her that night was uncontrollable despite his best efforts, it was an instinctive desire to possess the mother of his child, to greet the new life inside of her, to bring pleasure and joy to the woman he loved. To express his amazement at what was happening to her, what was happening in their lives. Lying next to her in bed, the deepest natural urges of his body had been stronger than all of the arguments he'd been turning over in his mind while she'd been sleeping, his irrepressible desire -- to touch the delicate silky skin of her breasts and belly just beginning to stretch almost imperceptibly against the push of life burgeoning from within, to savor the warmth of her, to be inside the source of that life -- had been stronger than any resolve to remain rational about their situation. Despite himself, he had shown her that he desired not only her but this child, that he desperately and deeply wanted her to be pregnant with his baby, even though the thought of losing not just the child but the mother terrified him.
Looking at her there, stretched out slim and languid with her long auburn curls twisting over her neck and shoulders and tickling her breasts, he strangled back a cry. He was torn between an urge to protect her and an urge to give in to what she wanted: to share each moment of the next months with her, to watch their baby being born, to hold it to its mother's breast for the first time, to be part of a new life from the very beginning. To be part of Elizabeth's life forever.
"You know I want to, Lizzie," be began, haltingly, "but there's so much happening here. I can't." She bit her lip to stifle a protest and just nodded, reaching out for him all of the same. And he couldn't resist her sad little expression, her delicate fingers and forearms stretched towards him. He half-growled and grabbed her up and held her close, kissing her hair fiercely and possessively. He moved his face away from hers a little to look at her face, then he moved his body away just a bit to look at her body. With one finger he traced a line between her breasts and then over her belly, finally wrapping his hand around the small of her back to draw her to him again. Burying his face in her hair, he whispered, "You're really pregnant?"
She nodded and made a little sound between a yes and a whimper, and suddenly his mouth was pressing against hers, his hand on her lower back was moving her towards him, their bodies were melting into one another, he was inside her and moving gently, carefully, rocking against her slowly if not to wake the child sleeping within. "Hmmm" she moaned as his fingers stroked her ear, her lips, her throat, then her breasts, before his mouth moved down to join their tender motion. He loves us, she thought triumphantly.
And she reached down to thread her arms through his, to pull him up towards her and deeper into her. Gazing into his dark eyes, Elizabeth smiled and nodded, assuring Robert that she was feeling exactly what he was, that this was real and good and true. An unusually powerful surge of emotion took Robert by surprise so that he gasped and lost his balanced and fell away down onto his side, eyes wide with astonishment at the incredibly strong sensation he had just experienced.
Elizabeth turned to him and laughed, stroking his face with her hand and closing his still-open mouth with her fingers, "You were looking at me as if you'd never seen me!" she teased. He swallowed, "Well," he began slowly, "I've never seen you quite like this. Your eyes..." he trailed. He didn't want to start with the old clichés about the radiance of a pregnant woman, but Elizabeth looked as if she was lit up from the inside, like she was aglow with warmth, with an inner light that made him want to be so close to her, to be inside her, that drew him to her like...a bug. He laughed aloud at his thought. "What?" she asked irritatedly swatting at his cheek. He just chuckled and shook his head before pulling her into a hug.
Holding her, he thought about how happy he was at this moment, and how the idea that there might not be an endless series of moments like this to light up his nights was a dark and scary prospect indeed. But would he take away her happiness to assure his own?
And how could he persuade her against having this baby that he too was beginning to love and want? His desire for her that night was uncontrollable despite his best efforts, it was an instinctive desire to possess the mother of his child, to greet the new life inside of her, to bring pleasure and joy to the woman he loved. To express his amazement at what was happening to her, what was happening in their lives. Lying next to her in bed, the deepest natural urges of his body had been stronger than all of the arguments he'd been turning over in his mind while she'd been sleeping, his irrepressible desire -- to touch the delicate silky skin of her breasts and belly just beginning to stretch almost imperceptibly against the push of life burgeoning from within, to savor the warmth of her, to be inside the source of that life -- had been stronger than any resolve to remain rational about their situation. Despite himself, he had shown her that he desired not only her but this child, that he desperately and deeply wanted her to be pregnant with his baby, even though the thought of losing not just the child but the mother terrified him.
Looking at her there, stretched out slim and languid with her long auburn curls twisting over her neck and shoulders and tickling her breasts, he strangled back a cry. He was torn between an urge to protect her and an urge to give in to what she wanted: to share each moment of the next months with her, to watch their baby being born, to hold it to its mother's breast for the first time, to be part of a new life from the very beginning. To be part of Elizabeth's life forever.