Please note - this is a series. A long one that began with the prequel, The Arrangement. It continues with three other as yet unwritten books. The apocalypse is not coming fast (unlike Lauren and Brent). Think Game of Thrones & Walking Dead. If you don't have the patience for that, or it is not your cup of tea, I understand. Literotica is home to a plethora of excellent short stories. But this is not one of them...
***
Lauren's world shook like a nine on the Richter scale as Brent's lips captured hers. This kiss was not sweet nor tentative nor comforting. It was her husband claiming what was his. What honestly always had been and always would be. But at that moment, she did not care as she wrapped her arms tighter about his neck and gave as good as she got.
She pressed her breasts against him as her nipples hardened within the thin lacey bra. She knew he felt them by the deep rumble at the back of his throat. When his hands abandoned her waist to cup them, she would have sworn she almost came from the way his fingers pinched and tugged through the thin t-shirt and bra. She was the one moaning then.
She knew that this was not going to be one of their long, slow burns like Kilauea's almost constant eruptions. No, this was Mount Saint Helen's. Quick, fast, and powerful. And that was just what she needed then.
When Brent's hands abandoned her nipples, she whimpered and pouted like a child denied its favorite toy. But she did not have much to worry about as his hands slipped between them, undoing her jeans and pushing them down her over her hips.
She was not sure how they managed it, but she wiggled them the rest of the way down her legs and kicked them off while Brent pushed the worn t-shirt up just enough to reveal her lace covered tits. He made equally quick work of the bra, just pushing it aside to free her engorged breasts for the skin-to-skin contact they so craved with this man.
And they did it all without breaking the fiery kiss. Then her fingers were tearing at that belt buckle. But it was frustratingly slow, at least to her mind. Brent's hands pushed hers aside and finished the job.
He turned them so that she was against the desk as he lifted her onto it. Her first orgasm raced through her even before he was inside her. Her muscles contracting so tightly made it a battle of nature's forces for his cock to get inside of her, but Brent was not deterred.
One orgasm built into the next and the next and next. It was not even like a roller coaster as there were no dips or valleys; each thrust only pushed her higher and higher like the engines on a rocket ship. Until she finally did leave the earth's atmosphere. She floated weightless and breathless with the stars bursting all around her. She felt freer and more alive than she had in...
Then the whole mountain exploded, its north side giving way and bursting outwards as Brent plunged deeper than she would have thought possible. Her legs wrapped about his waist to hold him to her as two forces of nature fully merged like one tectonic plate slipping beneath the other, leaving some of itself forever behind. And the other sprang forth, rising from the ocean floor to tower over it.
Lauren was not sure how long they stayed locked like that. It could have been mere seconds or an eternity. Her first thought as she began the descent back through the layers of earth's atmosphere was, "Where is the rain coming from?"
Brent chuckled, and she moaned as his half-hard cock slipped deeper inside her. She lifted her hips and ground her pubic bone against his as a decent-sized after-shock exploded in her core. When that too passed, she finally managed to open her eyes long enough to see her ex staring down at her with that winsome, eat-shit grin that she knew meant he thought he had won.
She shoved at him reluctantly. It was not that she wanted him to go anywhere. Her own body called her every name in the book as he leaned back just a bit and half slipped from her body. She bit her lower lip hard to stifle another whimper.
But the look in his blue eyes told her that he knew. That fueled her anger at his arrogance. "Damn it, Brent, you're sweaty."
***
His grin broadened as he had to unlock her legs from about his waist as he stood up. He moved so quickly that she was caught unaware and could not stop the needy moan as he withdrew entirely from her. This time he had the good graces to look away, though merely to hide an even bigger grin.
Did Lauren even realize the significance of her words? Not 'fuck me' but 'make love to me'? And while this one might have been hot and heavy, over far, far too quickly, the next time he was taking his time.
And not in one of the available cabins either. No, in his bed, where she belonged. Their bed. And screw a meaningless piece of paper, their marital bed.
Now all he had to do was find her damned shoes. It might be fine for them to walk the short distance half naked, but not barefoot. He smiled, though he was not above carrying her. He inhaled, and his cock stirred to life again...already. Damn, he supposed it had seven years of loving to make up for too.
He scooped her jeans up off the floor and paused for a long moment as it occurred to him, "They're under the desk, aren't they?" he quizzed.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Your shoes. You had taken them off earlier, hadn't you?" he teased as Lauren blushed.
It was yet another reminder of just how well they knew one another. She nodded her headed as she stared at her bare feet on the cold tile floor.
"I always loved how you did that," he said as he began to unbutton his shirt.
Lauren shook her head, "What are you doing, Brent? We can't, not again," she stammered. "We shouldn't have the first time...not here...anyone could find us..." She paused.
He chuckled again, and her blush deepened, "It is after midnight, sweetheart. No one is even up, except us. Early to bed and early to rise around here," he teased her.
He had missed teasing her like this. It was how their whole relationship had gotten started actually. Her never-ending questions that challenged all his theories always brought forth the incessant need to tease the troublesome little brat. It still did. Of course, there never had been anything mean-spirited about it.
"But Megan just brought me dinner," she protested, looking even more confused now.
He chuckled at how easily she lost track of time. If he were the stereotypical 'mad' scientist, then she was the absent-minded one. When they were together, he had always assumed the responsibility of making sure that she ate properly and got enough rest. The weight loss said that it was a task that had been severely neglected, but no more.
He motioned to the barely touched plate of cold food on the desk, "That was hours ago, darlin'. I would have come for you sooner, except Megan said you thought you were onto something. So, I helped Grandmam and Katie get the girls to bed and checked on a few things first."
***
She nodded her head slowly. It was not uncommon for her to lose track of time when she worked, when they worked. It was a trait they shared.
She tried her best to dampen the smile as Brent shrugged out of his shirt. His bare chest always made her smile. It had become her favorite pillow since the first time they had...
Made love. She reluctantly used the words he had chosen on the plane. She always hated to admit when he was right, but it seemed that he might be more often than she liked. If not the magnitude of seismic events, at least about their impacts. And the impact of his body on hers was a proven scientific fact.
She was so caught up in that thought that she almost did not catch the shirt as he threw it to her. "Put this on."
She shook her head, "Give me my jeans, and I will get dressed, Brent."
"Why, darlin'? We are just taking a one-minute walk to our cabin. Then that sexy ass of yours is getting some rest. You have worked hard enough today. Besides, there is nothing else you can do now. Not unless..."
"We get more data points," she nodded. "But still someone might see us. What would they think? You shirtless and me wearing..."
"They would think that we had been fucking our brains out. Which is exactly what we have been doing," he teased, and the lines around his eyes softened. "But everyone is asleep. Like you should be. Besides, my shirts always were your favorite nightwear. So, get dressed for bed here."
"What will the girls think? Grandmam?" she argued as she complied with his order nonetheless.
"They won't see, because you are sleeping in tomorrow. You have done your part; now the rest is up to us. I don't want to see your sexy ass out of bed before noon, do you understand me?"
She frowned, where had this new, more demanding Brent come from? She was not entirely sure she liked it. Well, certain parts of her might, she reluctantly confessed as the tingles in her tummy multiplied exponentially. "We'll see," she replied as she buttoned the shirt.
Brent walked back, standing so close that she could feel the heat of his body in the mere centimeters that separated them. His hand cupped her jaw and forced her face up to look into his eyes, "You will do as I say."
She chuckled, "Since when, Brent."
She jumped as his hand came down hard on her outer thigh, "Since now."
She wanted to argue, to tell Brent where he could shove his new domineering attitude, to remind him that the world did not work that way anymore. That women had come out of the cave over a century before when they got the right to vote.
