The Closer I Get To You: Chapter 34a (NC-17)

[Mimi]

4.3 But You Guarded Them Like A Lie

“Once you have traveled
The voyage never ends,
But is played out over and over
Again in the quietest chambers,
That the mind can never break
Off from the journey.”

-- Pat Conroy The Prince of Tides

They swim together. They are a life, mirrored souls, and mirrored hearts. Without eyes, they see; without ears; they hear. And they wondered together: why is she always so sad and lonely? Didn’t God give her joy? He makes her happy; they feel that strongly whenever he’s near her. The speed of her heart increases in his presence. Their attention always turns raptly toward his voice. It is a soothing elixir in the usual tumultuous regions of her body. He will be a voice they will love forever. She will be the love they will feel forever no matter what happens after they are freed from the security of her body. They will forever know, in some chamber of their mind that in the place before birth and life, they had each other; they will always have the quiet of their gestation. They will always be two youthful princes.

She slept in a relatively peaceful slumber in the center of the overwhelmingly lonely bed; the bed that John chose for her. Unbeknownst to her, he was creeping through the darkness of the penthouse below her. The officer keeping an eye out for Roman remembered him; he had actually admired John when he was still living the life of Roman Brady. He looked the other way only after giving John an understanding smile and pat on the back. John then used his key to enter the penthouse quietly, he took measured steps toward the stairwell. The sound of tiny feet padding down the hallway caused him to linger on the stairs until the shadow of Brady’s emerging body passed. Brady, whose familiarity with the layout of the apartment was apparent, scurried toward Marlena’s bedroom. He pushed open the wooden door and ran to the side of the bed where he proceeded to climb up until he reached the flat surface. John followed silently behind him shadowing the partially opened door where he stood to listen.

Marlena startled awake, sitting up quickly to identify the mysterious intruder. Smiling, she welcomed Brady with open arms, allowing him to stand to his full height in order to wrap his arms around her neck. “My boy…my favorite little boy.” She said nuzzling her nose against his hair.

“Mama.” His words were becoming very distinct. He was clear about who owned the Mama title for him. “Da – Da.”

“Daddy.”

Brady’s eyes shined, even in the dark looming about them. He wasn’t so much John’s son in terms of his countenance. He’d inherited Isabella’s small mouth and warm face and her darkish brown hued hair color. Marlena hooked her pinky beneath Brady’s chin. Her warm fingertip tickled his skin and the sensation sent a current of laughter through Brady.

“You’re a goofy boy. Do you want to sleep with Mama?”

A slobbery kiss showed his approval and she lay him down at her side. When he appeared settled his banter broke the silence. “Da – Da.”

“Brady, I promise we’ll see Daddy tomorrow.” She grazed his hair with a series of kisses. Placing her hand around his middle, she pulled him closer to her body, and started humming a light melody to sooth him. Brady’s body grew heavy with sleep after a couple of bars of the tune she’d sung to Sami and Eric as babies. When she was certain that he was asleep, she allowed herself to fall back into a comfortable rest.

John observed the intimate sight of his son sleeping peacefully beside Doc. Her hand covering him in a motherly way, as Brady’s hand found her hair in his sleep. John didn’t have the heart to awake either of them. Kneeling beside the bed, he hovered over them protectively. Running his fingers through Brady’s hair caused him to stir in his sleep. His boy. When Isabella died, he worried how he could give Brady everything a little boy needed, without a mother. He had never expected Doc to take her place in Brady’s life. But it was her nature to mother. She was a very maternal to every child who encountered her. John had seen the same level of love and adoration in Marlena’s eyes for Carrie; she was giving Brady all those same things that her children profited from.

Watching her lying unaware, pregnant with his child, with the very possibility of a future that would resemble him, stirred an urgency within him. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Touch her in the way that men love to love their lovers; to cause the quickness in her breath to erupt slowly until she was fighting to catch her breath.

She was breathing very lightly while Brady continued to sleep soundly. He reached beneath Brady and lifted him swiftly from the bed. Marlena was undisturbed by his sudden lost. John carried Brady back down the hallway, placing him into the crib he’d been occupying in Belle’s bedroom. Dipping into his little girl’s crib, he kissed her head while covering her sufficiently with her blanket. He eased back down the hallway. Closing her door behind him as he walked to the foot of the bed, he slowly undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt. He couldn’t be sure of her reaction to him. He wasn’t sure it mattered anyhow. After the initial connection with her skin, control fell irredeemably out of his clutches. It was that simple. Her skin, freckled and smooth, beneath the pulse of his finger or the span of his leg, aroused him. They could never turn back. She would open those honeyed colored eyes, drunk with lust and lascivious disregard and John would lose himself there. He finished the unbuttoning the shirt and moved in lion-like movements up the center of the bed, hovering over her curled frame. He felt pangs of want stiffen between his thighs as he examined the delicate material of covering her body. The lavender nightgown – long, silky, and delicate – hugged her curves. He admired the low cut of the neckline as it showed her ample cleavage spilling over the top. Lowering the blanket slowly, he examined the rest of her sleepwear; the material hid the natural shape of her legs, the tiny ankles and slender calves and thighs. He lowered himself on top of her gently. The weight of his body awakened her immediately. Expecting to see Brady, she’s stunned to see John. Her reaction is slow. He is touching her face before she can say or do anything. Stroking the lower regions of her cheek as softly as he would Belle. Her throat is thickened with sleep, and she struggles to murmur the question on her tongue.

“What are you doing here?” She finally says after locking eyes with him. “John the restraining order.” Her protests were quieted. His hands moved quickly to both sides of her face to lock their eyes. She lowered her lids to the intensity; he looks as if he could hurt more than he could love her.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded unapologetically. When she does, he’s watching. She likes that. She wants him to see her – only her, in the grips of the vulnerability that his touch provides. She’s undone beneath his touching. Kissing her lightly on her mouth and pulling away causes her to lift her head from the bed to connect their lips again. It’s the breath of life she’s yearning for, the only breath she can actually find. Pushing his tongue urgently into her mouth and she clenches it into place with her teeth as she tickles the tip with her own tongue. His nerve endings explode from her maneuvering. “That feels good baby.” He says breaking away from her mouth. She drags her tongue in linear patterns across his neck stopping at the bottom of his ear where she nips teasing bites along his skin. His focus has shifted from her mouth onto the rest of her body. He stares unnervingly into her eyes while his hands roam across her neckline slowly, and then travels beneath the silky nightgown across her breasts. “Take this off.” He commands, lifting himself from her body to watch her peel the nightgown off, giving him a show as she lowers the thin straps from her shoulders and pulls it slowly down her hips. “I don’t think you know how sexy you are Doc.” She leans forward to run her finger across the waistband of his pants. “You need help with these.” She asked. A seductive voice has replaced the usual proper tone. Her fingers expertly unbutton his pants and glide them down his hips and off his legs. “Those.” She points to his boxers and immediately helps him dispose of them.

“I’m going to make love to you like I’ve never done before. I want you to feel me,” he said bringing her to his lap, “inside of you like you’ve never felt before.” He can’t force himself to take her lacy panties from her body. He’s more aroused with them on. “Get on top,” he tells her as he extends his legs in front of him. She moves up, sealing her middle to his pelvis, grinding slowly as she does. He grabs her hair from the back, yanking it enough to tilt her head back. The kisses start gently, across her neck, down her shoulder blade, the tiny swell of her stomach, the nape of her neck. After touching nearly every part of her body with his mouth, his fingers resume his wanton exploration. Soft moans escaping her as her body responds to John’s intense scrutiny. There are no sufficient words for his unselfish attention to her body.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You…” she whispers breathily, “I want you.” Her eyes are barely open when she moans those words.

“Where doc?” He prodded her. She had to say it; he wanted those raunchy words to fall easily from her proper mouth.

She opened her eyes fully to his face, “Inside me,” she said boldly.

John responded quickly, “here?” He slipped his hand into her panties.

She moaned her appreciation. “I love it when you do just that…there.” She was completely turned on. Necessity sent her hand down John’s chest until she reached his hard erection between them. Cupping him between her slender fingers, she leaned forward for a wet kiss, slipping her tongue between his lips to probe his mouth. Her stroking fingers and mouth induced John to tear the seam of those lacy panties from her body. He rubbed the pools of moisture between her legs in correlation with her continued stroking. The slow stimulation between her thighs sent those familiar waves throughout her body and she cried out as she came rocking against John’s fingers.

“Shh.” He said covering her mouth with his hand as he inserted two fingers into her. She pried his hand from her mouth and sucked slowly on each finger eyeing John as he continued to pleasure her. Dizzying waves struck her as her pleasure erupted again. She exploded with John’s fingers still pumping inside of her. Falling back onto the bed, exhausted and trembling, John pulled up back up and guided her to his lap again. Her body hadn’t settled from the multiple orgasms when he lifted her hips, placing her thighs across his pelvis as he leaned onto the bed, and entered her recklessly. Fighting the urge to cry out, she pulls John’s fingers to her mouth and again sucks each limb as they make love. Perfectly. Gently. Beautifully. Mind-alteringly. He helps her find a rhythm that satisfies them both. Her timidness was apparent in her initially clumsy movements until John cupped her hips and guided her body up and down the length of his shaft, touching the folds of her slick innermost regions. She’s not concerned with their ending, feeling him inside her is the greatest pleasure she’d felt. Their connection, beyond its physical nature, fulfilled a spiritual gap between them. She was concentrating on his body, on his pleasure, tightening her muscles to increase the friction for him. Joining their hands at their sides, she intertwined their fingers in another unbreakable connection.

The intimacy of being inside her, with her maneuvering stirred him as he watched her riding him with intense and increased rhythm. He was lost in the unspoken connection surrendering them into silence. Without warning, he lifted her and pushed her onto the bed, reentering her promptly. She accommodated their new position by wrapping her legs around his waist and digging her heels into the back of his thighs. She’d abandoned the timid nature of her sexuality with John. It always took a minute to find her comfort level, especially after not having this connection on a routine basis. It was John’s doing that she could be so free. She enjoyed the feeling of his grinding with abandon into her body passionately. Loving John had always been her most natural reaction to their connection; making love, incredible, soul-connecting love was a reward of that equation. She found herself wishing that each time they made love could be as sweet and loving as this. Their last encounter – if she was being honest – had frightened her. John as a forcefully brute lover had given her unspeakable pleasure as well as unsettling worry. He always made certain to incite consummate gratification when they made love. Now was no different. He pulled her face to his, yearning to feel every inch of her near him. His hands traveled to the space between the bond between their slick skin and began to rub sensitive center in rhythm with his pumping. He kissed. Sucked her lips. Licked her lips. Gripped them between his teeth. She was starting to tingle all over from the constant attention. She reached and secured her hands across his bottom, pulling him closer, helping him dig further into her, as she lifted her hips form the bed to meet the impact of his body crushing against hers. The manual meanderings of his finger sent her to the top of the erogenous hill again. Nerve endings tinged in every part of her body as she came quivering against him. He continued stroking and pumping until he fell to the will of their incredible sex, coming forcefully into her. He collapsed on top of her with their bodies still connected, his manhood still filling her completely. He shifted them without severing the connection, placing her on top of him, where he held on to her securely. He reached to pull a sheet over their bodies, exhausted.