Across the Pond Ch. 08

I took a difficult moment to center myself as much as I could at such a heightened state. Unraveling her hair from my hold my hand instead began at the nape of her neck and slowly traced the form of her spine. "You are giving up so much to be with me. Your family, friends. Your livelihood. I fear you'll grow resentful and I would rather die than for you to be unhappy."

"Babe, I'm happy. If that changes we might fight and talk and fight more but we'll get through it. The butterflies and mushy shit may begin a marriage but that's not what sustains it, and I wouldn't have married you if I wasn't 100% sure I could see myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm not going anywhere, I swear." I watched her fingers anchor onto the back of the chair right as her arse pushed back against my strained erection. "Are we okay?"

"More than, little one." I let her words sink in while teasing her delicate folds with my knuckle. I'd never taken Sydney to be maliciously deceitful let alone saying anything solely for my benefit. If she said she loves me, she won't run scared, she'll stay -- she meant it. It wasn't that I didn't believe her. Every morning I wake next to her, this imperfectly perfect woman, it takes everything I have not to convince myself it's only a dream and I'll be without her in my arms. My insecurities were my own, however, and not something I should project onto her. "Tell me your safe word."

There was no denying the nervous catch in her voice when she responded. "California."

"Again."

"California."

We didn't need to use it often and it was the only preparation she would have. "Is it alright? I will never without your permission, my love."

"Y-yes, it's okay." Her words stuttered when I removed my hand and unbuckled the Italian calfskin leather around my waist, pulling it from the loops and dropping it on the floor with an ominous clang. When my trousers were pulled down and kicked aside my cock aligned with her slit, slipping it easily between her slick lips, over her clit, damp and teasing and taking her by surprise by brusquely filling her with the entirety of my manhood while she screamed. Normally the precursor leading up to the main event was thoroughly drawn out - making sure she was relaxed, writhing and practically begging before I took her.

Rare times, such as this, I wanted her submission. She was mine to take how I pleased. How I needed.

I gripped her hair in the middle and snatched back so hard her back abruptly arched, giving me a glorious view of her defined curves every time my cock disappeared and reappeared wetter than before. My other tightly grabbed her arse, using the firm flesh as leverage to pull her back into my punishing drive, the rhythmic slap of our muscles and skin crashing together causing me to grunt wickedly and loud. I let go and backhanded each cheek twice, moving on to handling her breast, pinching the nipple with my nails like a bite and she pierced my ears when my name spilt from her mouth. The sound was always the most pleasing to me; I took my pleasure, yes, but without hers it wouldn't matter at all.

When the chair began to tip from the weight behind my thrusts I pulled away and snatched her flailing body upwards before practically tossing her onto the floor. In my fog I managed to secure a pillow beneath her cheek so at the very least her face wouldn't scrape across the rug, and to minimally ask if she was alright. When she affirmed she was I penetrated her even rougher than before, so hard her body surged forward until I stuck my arm beneath her to grab onto the opposite shoulder, giving her no respite from my cock and the rambunctious way I was giving it to her.

I covered her body with mine and rutted her like an unhinged animal. Her core was so fucking hot I broke into a fever sweat, letting drops from my hair fall onto her neck and back. She tried to reach behind to push her fingers into my hair but I slammed her hand down and held it, threading my fingers through hers as if I were making love to her as opposed to growling my sweet little slut is taking this dick so fucking well in her ear. It was hard, unrelenting and overwhelming and I couldn't stop.

Her greedy cunt pulsed around me and it wasn't long until I shouted a long stream of profanity, emptying inside her. My head fell back in the following seconds, it felt as if my entire being was buzzing with adrenaline for I was shaking all over. Sydney was making these tiny whimpering noises into the pillow. "Are you...alright...love?"

She said nothing and it wasn't until I glanced down that I saw her nodding silently. I took care pulling out of her and the moment I did her body slumped to the floor in fatigue. Reaching past to grab one of her quilts off the couch I took care bundling it around her, but her faint cry when I gathered her in my arms and stood was impossible to ignore. She was no doubt tender, feeling vulnerable and raw from me using her body. Yet when her hand popped out to touch my chest that was when I knew she would be okay. She didn't hate me, the way I was. The way I am. I whispered my affection for her, my appreciation of her, all the way to our bedroom so I could get my aching girl in the bath for a soothing soak for both of us.

***

IV: Never Gonna Give You Up.

"She lov'd me for the dangers I had passed, and I lov'd her that she did pit-hehehehe!"

I smiled against her navel, inhaling her citrus essence. "You're a dark woman to laugh at Othello, wife of mine."

"It's not the play, your dumb face hair tickles." I playfully nuzzled my chin against her skin and she giggled once more. "Stop that! I'm gonna make you come out of there."

"I'll behave." From the moment we'd woken up -- apart from two toilet breaks, a coffee run and a search for wireless earphones, one for each of us - I'd been lying between her legs with my head snuggly underneath her shirt to rest on her stomach. There were times she'd discuss the meaning of a certain passage or ask to replay a song and my fingers would absentmindedly tap on my mobile, and a few moments I would run my lips across her skin with content sounds - but for the most part we lied in silence. She read and I rested. Immediately following a night as strenuous as the previous one my first and only priority was to make sure she was physically and emotionally taken care of. A long bath together, two pain relievers and a conversation on how she was feeling before her falling asleep in my arms usually did the trick. The mornings after I attached myself to her, refusing to let her stray far. For her to allow me to physically bond with her showed she still love me. I suppose I needed aftercare as well. "Little one, do explain these knickers."

"Definition or functionality?"

"The latter. These seem awfully small for...what were they called, boy shorts? I thought they were supposed to have more coverage."

"I don't know why you're complaining, you're the one who took me to that bougie-ass boutique and bought them for me."

"I'm not complaining, I'm merely pointing out the illogical design." I crawled out of my cave and sat back on my heels, taking her hips in my hands and rotating her onto her stomach to get a good look at the back - and to openly ogle her full figure when a smack on each cheek was delivered. "This is what I mean. Approximately sixty percent of your bum is exposed."

She snorted at my assessment and turned her head to the side, looking at me out of the corner of her gorgeous eyes that were sporting quite a bit of green today. "That's how they're cut and European sizes run small. I can't help it if I have a big booty."

"Again, not the issue. What is the point of paying ninety pounds for a piece of fabric that doesn't cover anything? You might as well go without, for if you're wearing a short skirt and you bend over you're going to give the whole world a show."

Sydney turned back around and stretched her upwards, causing her breasts to strain against her top. "So I'm supposed to wear granny panties because perverts can't keep their eyes off Tasty Treats? Fuck that sexist bullshit. And what exactly do you think I'm gonna be doing that requires me to bend over so far people can see up my skirt?"

I retrieved my coffee mug from the breakfast tray -- a charming little gift my wife purchased for me that boasted the phrase Fuck off until my second cup -- and warmed my hands around it much like her shapely legs curving around my back to keep me still. "Oh, I don't know. I recall that night at the pub when you brought me back for dinner and you had on that saucy little leather number. When you leaned over the bar top to pilfer champagne it wouldn't have been so hard to crane one's neck to have a peek at your knickers. If one wanted to."

"Oh yeah?" I took a sip and her eyebrow cocked up. "So what color were they?"

"Nice try." I wasn't about to incriminate myself. She took my coffee from my hands and when she placed it on the bedside table I took the opportunity to remove the ridiculously tiny strip of fabric and fling it to the other side of the bed. Yet when I went to spread her legs she pulled them up and cinched tightly. I frowned. "Are you afraid, Sydney?"

"No," she answered briskly though her body was still rigid. "I'm just, um...I'm still a little sore."

"I understand. I'll be gentle." The tautness of her thighs gave beneath my fingers as I ran them up and down, attempting to relax her enough to open for me. It took a few tries until she drew up her feet and her legs gradually fell apart, knees resting on the mattress. I leaned over to kiss her special spot on her neck while whispering against her skin she was safe, how I loved her dearly. She wanted all of me as I wanted all of her, but I wanted far more than her body. I wanted her trust.

I moved down enough to come face-to-face with her center, which was still a bit puffed and swollen from the night before. I took two fingers and carefully spread her labia apart: she was glossy with fluid from the both of us and a bit more flushed than usual inside. My arms curled around her thighs before running my tongue up the left side, hearing her shudder. "Oh my God."

I repeated with the inside of the right. I kissed her mound, nipped at the skin just below her navel, selfishly grabbed handfuls of her "big booty" while whispering I adore you into her ribcage. Nails dragged across my scalp when I moved back down to plant a gentle kiss on the blooming button between her legs. "You're stunning, Sydney. Every inch of your body is positively, sinfully stunning. If we didn't need to ready ourselves for your friend's dinner I'd keep you spread for me the rest of the afternoon."

"I mean, I don't like Tess and Shane that damn much." I grinned and lovingly lashed her clitoris with my tongue, letting the prickliness of my five o'clock shadow brush against it as well. Under normal circumstances I would have agreed with her but I had been planning a surprise since our wedding day two weeks prior. I predicted her despondency over leaving long before her father ever said anything and I wanted to lessen the pain, even for a little while. "Sure we can't skip? I think one weird dinner a week is enough."

"You wanted me to meet your friends before we left, and much as I'd enjoy making love to you for the remainder of the day I don't want to isolate you from your loved ones either. We'll make an early night of it, alright?"

"Fiiiiine," she droned on dramatically. "That reminds me, I still owe you a sparkly pink dildo slapping. I have it around here somewhere."

"You locate it and I will meet you in the shower." A tender kiss and she rolled from under me to trot off to the bathroom. When I heard the water running I sat up to read the message received when Sydney was in the middle of Act I. Fine. 6:30. was all it said. I wasn't particularly pleased with this part of her surprise but I arranged it anyhow. Satisfied all the pieces were in place I joined my wife for, hopefully, a long and loving wash.

***

V: Sleepy Brown.

"Babe, we're already half an hour late to dinner, can't we do this tomorrow?" Sydney questioned when we pulled into Antonio's parking lot, which was practically empty for six in the evening. I turned off the engine and got out to open her door for her, and as soon as I did she shut it behind her before leaning against it, crossing her arms. "Why do I have to go in with you to get it anyway?"

"Because we've been apart for almost a week and I want to keep you close to me." Securing her face in my hands I took in her irritated - albeit always gorgeous - appearance. "Is it so terrible to be near your husband, little one?"

She smiled and shook her head. There she is. "Yes, it is. I don't like you."

"I don't like you either. Kiss me anyway." Her hands on my stomach kept her steady as her facetious lips brushed against my own. "The sooner we locate this file the quicker we can go to see your friends, then I shall take you home and have you all to myself." I rubbed her nose with the end of mine twice before pulling away, tugging on her hand until she reluctantly walked with me through the front door. All the lights in the pub suddenly turned on and was followed by a booming and jovial "SURPRISE!"

"Son of a bitch!" Sydney startled and the large group inside began laughing and clapping. Contessa and Shane were front and center beneath a banner boasting Bon Voyage! surrounded by Sydney's friends, Sorority sisters, classmates from her private school and college: essentially her entire contact list was in front of her for the going away party, holding champagne and cheering. My energetic love began jumping up and down. "What did you do?!"

"What I pledged on our wedding night -- making you happy." She grabbed onto my face and pulled me down for a lengthy embrace, squealing into it when I lifted her off her feet as everyone hooted and hollered around us. When I let her go was when she asked, "How did you even do all this?"

"Through FaceTime, mostly," the lovely Contessa explained when she walked over to my giddy wife and I, dark curls bouncing around her shoulders with every step she took. "Your charming husband stole all the names and numbers out of your phone and emailed them to me. The rest is just details."

"Details? Everythin' I did to put this together gets lumped into details? I want my credit, woman." We laughed good-heartedly as her husband Shane griped, handing both of us a tall flute of Cristal. Sydney tugged on my tie and replied, "I guess I don't have to introduce you guys, sneaky bitches."

"Shush. Tess, a pleasure to see you outside of a laptop." I bent to give her a kiss on each cheek before extending my hand to her husband. "Thomas."

His intensely green eyes squinted when he shook mine. "Holland."

I watched my wife link her arm through her friend's, asking as the gathering carried on in full swing around us, "Uh oh. Do they not like each other?"

Tess patted her hand gently in response. "Oh no, it seems we've married the same person. Stubborn as mules. The other day they argued for an hour over the War of 1812."

Reminding us of our debate only served to fire it up again and Shane was raring to go at the mention of it. "To just dismiss the conflict as a "minor theatre of the Napoleonic Wars" is insultin' to both the casualties and trade agreements that resulted from it."

I jokingly groaned and began loosening the knot in my tie. "We've been over this, mate. There's no shame in admitting the US army spent most of the conflict poorly-led and overwhelmed."

"Hey nerds, quit trying out for the debate team and go get your wives more alcohol," Sydney interrupted graciously. The massive redhead gave me a friendly thump on the shoulder before taking his wife's hand in his and heading to the bar. My own love pulled the tie from my neck and positioned it around her own, humming happily. "My friends like you."

"I like them. I like you." I began to steer her through the crowd, speaking only loud enough for her to hear me say "I have one more surprise for you."

"Again? What do I have to do to wear you out, babe?"

"That is something I'd be happy to explore at length, but not that." I briefly glance at my phone for confirmation and tucked it in my pocket. "Come with me, sweet girl."

I led her through the crowd, past the industrial kitchen and out the back door leading to the parking lot. "Where are you taking me, you weird-" She stopped in her tracks the instant she stepped outside, gawking at the reluctant guest leaning against the stone wall. "...Sam?"

Her former flatmate looked up from his feet and gestured a small wave. "Hey, Kitten."

"I'll be just inside." Sydney clasped onto my hand when I whispered against her temple. I then turned my attention to him. "Mind your manners toward my wife. I have no qualms about hitting you again if you step out of line."

"Fuck you too, asshole." He replied whilst rolling his eyes. I made my way back in and closed the door behind me. Well, mostly. I hid in the corner of the wall to eavesdrop, for her safety I told myself. "How have you been?" Sydney asked.

"Good. School's...school and my new roommate is cool. He's quiet, which I'm still getting used to."

"Oh, good. That's good. Do you want to...?"

"Nah, that's okay," he turned down what I assumed was an offer to join everyone inside. "That guy...your husband called me yesterday and said you guys were leaving soon, so I...I just wanted to say goodbye and good luck."

My nosy post was terminated by a graceful hand placed on my bicep, and when I turned to see who was behind me I was greeted by Contessa's wide, bright smile. "Come on, leave them alone," she whispered and tugged me by the hand, but only led me only feet away. It was then she said at a normal pitch. "It was nice of you to invite him."

"Yes, well..." I trailed off. "I wish I could say it was purely out of the goodness of my heart, but the truth is she wouldn't have felt settled in London if she hadn't gained closure."

"You're probably right." I heard them shouting at each other and it took every ounce of self-control I had to not run out there and wreck the bastard. "Look Max, I'm going to give it to you straight. I know you and Syd have this whole whirlwind romance happening and that's great. You have been so good to her, for her. But the way she talks about you...she's practically obsessed and judging by tonight I can see you're the same about her. I'm a little worried that you don't just love her, you idolize her."

"Perhaps. Is that such a bad thing?"

"You tell me." She took a seat on the stool to my left, crossing her legs at the ankles and demurely placing her hands on her lap. "She told me about your ex-wife -- not everything, but enough. I think that you two have been through hell and back and you need each other, for sure. The way you interact with her is like she's this perfect center of your universe that could do no wrong. And far be it for me to give relationship advice, believe me, but if I could impart one nugget of wisdom it would be to be careful not to put Sydney up on too high of a pedestal. Because when she falls and your perception of her changes, it's going to hurt her far more than it will hurt you."

I gave her assessment some careful thought before responding. "I'm not able to say you're wrong, because I do. I do see Sydney as perfect. She has the perfect pout when she doesn't get her way. The way she rows when I've angered her -- the attitude, the fire in her eyes, comes from pure chaotic perfection. When she wakes up crying from a dream, of how she laughs with her entire body, the way she pops her gum and leaves cabinet doors open when she's finished and oh, my God would it kill the girl to actually run the dishwasher when she's finished loading it?" I opened the floodgate and couldn't stop myself. "Her taste in music is the absolute worst, and she hums jingles from advertisements so then I have them stuck in my head for days after. She leaves her shoes and nail lacquer bottles open everywhere and I ruined a 12,000-pound rug when I tripped and knocked it over! She is scattered, and moody, and..." it was then I couldn't help but to laugh and shake my head. "And she's perfect. She truly is, and there isn't a flaw she could project that would make me think any different. I understand your concern, I do. But I will never put her up so high I couldn't catch her should she fall."