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He cupped her, feeling her delicious weight in his hands. Had she…gotten bigger? Fuller? It seemed so. He reached behind her back and undid the bra strap, and she came tumbling out, beautiful.
He took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked, and she groaned for him, making his whole body come alive. He let it go and took the other one, and she pressed against him, and all he could feel was her heat and want. Mark came alive, growing stiff as her mouth found his, and their tongues competed in an ancient dance.
She pushed her own bottoms off, and then it was just them, skin on skin. He could feel her delicious wetness. God, he wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything he could remember in his life. He belonged in her. She moved against him, teasing him, and now it was his turn to moan as he felt her silky wetness.
Then he remembered condoms. How had he almost forgotten again? He reached backward to the drawer on the nightstand where he’d put them, but she reached for his wrist.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, we don’t need them.”
“We don’t?” he asked, puzzled. “But…” Pregnancy, he thought distantly, and then the thought evaporated as she moved him inside her. All rational thought disintegrated in his mind like shells pulverized into sand by the endless lashing of the waves. She felt so amazing, so deliciously wet, he didn’t want a barrier any more than she did. She seemed so sure, so confident. His mind thought of a million reasons she could be so sure, but in the end, it was the all-consuming desire that made the decision for him. All he wanted was to get deeper inside her, and he did. Thrust after delicious thrust.
She cried out almost instantly, a high-pitched come. He decided he’d make this last, make her scream in delight. He wanted to feel her bare, as long as he could. Mark felt at last he’d finally found home, here in this woman. This was where he belonged.
Finally, when he felt he could hold back no longer, he flipped her over, stomach down on the bed, and began his own journey to quench his need as he took her, harder and faster. God, so good. Then, at the very end, he remembered—no condoms. He withdrew before he came, spilling himself across the small of her back.
The come was so hard, so fast, he’d almost not had time to withdraw, but now he felt at least he hadn’t put her in danger of a pregnancy. They couldn’t repeat the mistakes of that first night, which had been reckless. Irresponsible. No matter how much she believed she might not carry a baby to term, Mark knew how biology worked.
Laura lay still and quiet as he gently cleaned her back with his own dirty T-shirt, and then he rolled her up in his arms, spooning her from behind. The wind rattled the boards on the windows, but here, holding her, he felt safe.
“You could’ve come inside me,” she murmured into his arms.
He squeezed her tighter. “I know, but…we should be careful.” He thought about after that first time, so hot with passion, how neither one of them had been thinking clearly. He’d never acted so rashly his whole life, and he didn’t plan on repeating the same mistake.
Laura, back to him, traced the line of his forearm with a delicate finger. “You’re afraid of a pregnancy.”
“Well…” Of course he was. “Yes,” he admitted.
“You don’t want any more children?” The question came out sounding small, a whisper almost. He knew what children meant to her, and how she said she was worried she might be getting too old to have them or that her body didn’t know how to have them at all. He knew he had to tread carefully here. But he had needs, too. He had wants. And he had fears.
“No,” Mark admitted. “After Timothy died, well, all my hopes for children died with him. I’m not going to be like Elle. Trying to replace one baby with another, or so I assume. Somehow, it just…disrespects Timothy’s memory. I’m not going to do that to Timothy.”
Mark couldn’t imagine having another child, if he were honest with himself. Would that make him love Timothy less? Or even worse, forget him? He couldn’t take that risk.
“I told myself I wouldn’t have more,” Mark said. “Not ever.”
“Never?” Laura asked.
“Never,” Mark echoed, remembering the day he stood at Timothy’s small grave in the city cemetery on the far side of the island. He’d promised his small gravestone that he’d name a boat after him and sail around the world. That he’d never be replaced in his heart, no matter what happened. The more he thought about the possibility of having a baby, the more he worried that he could break his promise to Timothy. And Mark’s memories were the only thing Timothy had. If he forgot Timothy, it would be as if that amazing little boy never existed.
