By now I’m writhing beneath him, needing more, needing all of him. Nate takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, causing me to buck into him. I thrust my fingers into his hair as I desperately pull him closer.
He can sense my need but is taking his time. Laughing, as he teases and tortures me. He looks at me with a satisfied smile, sensing my longing for him as he then licks softly over where he just inflicted pain, and then moves on to do the same to the other. I pull his head off my breast and meet his stare with a pleading voice and begging eyes, “Please, make love to me. Let’s make a baby.”
He groans and kisses me harder, running his hand from my cheek, down my neck, over my breast, and down the middle of my stomach. He palms my pussy and slides his fingers through the lips. “God, Brooke, you’re dripping.”
“Please, Nate, I need you,” I beg, arching my back.
Nate sits back on his heels and looks me over from head to toe. “I love you so much, Brooke. I can’t wait to start our family.”
“Then let’s start it,” I whisper.
He grabs his hard and straining cock and strokes it a few times before settling between my legs. He leans forward and places himself at my entrance and slowly pushes in. Even after ten years there is no greater feeling than my husband sliding inside me, stretching me and filling me.
After a few slow strokes I grab at his biceps and pull him closer. Nate understands and pounds into me hard and fast, hitting me so deep my breath catches. He pulls my left leg from around his waist and rests it up over his chest. While holding my ankle, he peppers light kisses over and down my calf.
I think I’m going to lose it until he speeds up again, pounding me harder and harder. I’m stretched so wide for him with my leg up like this, and I feel him go deeper. I scream out; the intense pressure almost too much to take, and I know I’m close. Nate pumps deep and long into me, continuing a ferocious pace.
My favourite thing is to watch my husband come. The muscles in his arms and chest tighten with the veins pulsing through his beautiful tan skin as he scrunches his face like it’s almost too much for him.
He groans his release as I feel him pulsate inside of me. Falling onto me, he rests his head in the crook of my neck as his chest rises and falls quickly, matching my own.
“Oh God, Nate … I love you … I love you so much … that was …” I get out in between quick breaths.
Nate, who is also struggling to breathe, opens his eyes and looks into mine. “I love you so much, Brooke. You mean the world to me. You mean everything, and I can’t wait for this next phase of our lives.”
I am numb. As I sit here and stare at the coffin in front of me, I don’t understand how we got here, how I got here. My gaze is fixed on nothing in particular, just the sight in front of me. My mind isn’t sure if this is really happening.
The church pew is hard under my bum, and both of my hands are being held and squeezed tightly. My mum is on one side of me, and on the other, my best friend Rachel. Neither one of these women have left my side since the accident.
Although I know all this, although I’m aware of everything around me, it doesn’t feel real. It feels like I’m not really here, like Nate isn’t lying in that coffin, and this is one fucked-up nightmare.
Listening to the pastor read aloud the letter I wrote for Nate, reality comes crashing down around me, stabbing me in the heart. I know this is real. I know I really am here, and I know Nate is lying in that coffin. This isn’t a fucked-up nightmare but reality. The new fucked-up reality which is my life.
I listen to the words I typed and printed onto a beautiful champagne-coloured card, the words I’d bled onto the computer screen. I’d cried massive amounts of tears wishing Nate were here and wishing I could tell him how I felt, how much I loved him and how much I needed him.
My chest is tight and pain flows through me. My heart has shattered into a million tiny pieces. I’m not sure how it’s even still beating. I’m numb to the world around me, numb to all feelings.
I keep replaying that day over and over in my head, wondering how it all went wrong. How did something so precious get ripped out of my hands in the blink of an eye?
After Nate and I made love, we lay in bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms while talking about anything and everything to do with babies. What gender we wanted and why. Would we find out the sex, and the positives and negatives of having a daughter versus a son. How would we decorate the nursery? What stuff did we need to buy?
Our hands had never left each other as we chatted and discussed all our thoughts and feelings on the subject. Nate had rubbed his strong hands up and down my back, caressing my ass cheeks and the backs of my thighs, then working his way up to start the whole process again.