Page 138 of Sombra
I can see her shaking. Her mouth open. She’s panting. She’s … she’s … she tilts her head back and roars out an orgasm, her body sucking me up her fingerssplayed on the bedspread. She’s quaking from the core where we connect to her head and toes. Her ass loves my finger, her pussy my dick. And that vibrator?
Joder.
The earthquake of her body triggers me, so I let go too, pumping into her, feeling the deliciousness of complete orgasmic release.
Fuck. Yes.
We both breathe hard for a while. Once our bodies come down, Ipull out and we settle on the bed. I wrap her in my arms. We’re so messy, so full of our love, but I don’t care. We’ll clean up later.
Right now, all I want to do is hold her. And feel her for myself.
After we takea shower and lie naked in bed, I cuddle up behindher, playing with her belly as she strokes my arms up and down.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to tell me no. I want you to know that I’m going to ask you to marry me someday, Kim. If you wanted to marry me now because of the baby, I’d do it in a heartbeat, because I know you’re the one for me.”
“But no.” She smiles.
“Right. No hasty marriages. No marriagesthat you’re not ready for. That said, the very second you want to get married, we will.”
She rolls over and turns to me. “First, I think it’s the most romantic thing for you to ask me not to marry you. Because you’re considering my feelings and our history.”
“Right, amor.”
“But you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m gonna say yes. Our bonds are stronger than marriage.Our love is at the deepest level. And I want to show the world who I really am. Who we really are. I love you.”
My heart leaps, and I squeeze her so tight. She’s mine forever.
A weekafter we bring Sebastian de la Guerra home from the hospital
Mybaby boyis tinier than I thought he’d be. More precious. Someone else for me to protect.
I can hold Sebastian over one forearm, my hand supporting his head and his legs on either side of my elbow, although most of the time he’s up on my chest where he nestles up by my neck. The nurse taught me how to hold him, how to support his neck, but he’s so small in my arms. A bundle of light, summerblankets and new, warm, skin. His mop of dark hair comes from me, but his light eyes match his mother’s.
He’s a sturdy sack of flour with arms and legs that kick out spasmodically. They’re the same joyous kicks I felt under my palm for the past few months. The first flutter of his kicks made Kim’s eyes widen in realization and both of our hearts soar.
Was it only a week ago thathe was inside her?
This morning, Kim’s completely sacked out in our bed. Drool drips down the corner of her mouth. He didn’t ever let her sleep well while he was in her ever-rounding belly. While I did my best to ease her discomfort, much of the time I was helpless to sooth her tears from exhaustion, aches, and hormonal changes. Panicking if we were doing the right thing. And those tearsof happy anticipation, of wanting so badly to gaze upon this little human we created. Now that he’s out, his cry is soft, but even that quiet mewl induces us to mobilize immediately.
What is it, son? Hungry? Diaper change? Too hot? Too cold? Sleepy?
I already know that most of the time, I haven’t got a clue what he’s asking for, so I try each balm in turn. Even though I only methim a few days ago, I know there’ll be a point where he’ll fuss too much for me to handle. For now though, as she sleeps, I can hold him off for a while longer. My little conejo needs as much rest as she can get.
“Cálmate, mijo,” I croon, and begin to sing every lullaby I know.
I pace in our casita, cradling him in my arms and gently rocking him, hoping my voice will put him backto sleep.
While I sing, his cries turn to whimpers, and his whimpers turn to coos. With a sigh and a yawn, he snuggles into me, and I grin against his little head.
Turning around, I see that Kim’s opened her eyes and is watching me.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I whisper. “You sleep now, amor.”
She shakes her head into the pillow, and her blinking slows down. Then shecloses her eyes to savor the moment. When she talks, her voice cracks with emotion. “If I went back to sleep, I’d miss this.”
Smiling at her, I go back to singing to our son.
I know in my heart that our adventure has only begun.
