Dear Readers,
Thank you all for sticking with this story. To the reader who said that this story is like War and Peace on Literotica :D I didn't set out to tell such a long story, I only wanted to tell the best story about these two that I possibly could and fill it with all the passion and joy that they feel for one another and their bond.
Enjoy this latest installment! Headed toward a conclusion but I want to show the growth between these two.
***
He was awakened by the harsh light shining in the window. Beside him his bride slept with her head tucked into his armpit. She slept the slumber of the truly satisfied, her snore buzzing adorably into his pit. Lynne slept so soundly he wasn't afraid to move because he knew even the movement wouldn't disturb her.
He gently untangled himself from her, letting her rest on his pillow. She was only covered from the waist down, those lovely, small perky breasts peaking out from the curve of her side as she slept on her stomach. He kissed one of the globes from the side.
Lynne would be hungry. She'd only ate three pieces of delivery pizza yesterday. He was determined to make her a good breakfast. She needed the nourishment after a long, pleasurable day of being teased, and titillated, and coming continually. He prayed that the orgasms that he gave her satisfied her to the depths of her soul, the way his orgasms with her satisfied him. He loved the feel of her body on his, and the special smell of her scents and juices upon him. He didn't even want to shower, and clean up. Not yet. When he did he would wash her intoxicating scent off of him.
He loved imagining his cock still covered in her creamy juices. If his dick still smelled like her a little bit, he could prolong the feeling of ecstasy. He went into the kitchen, starting to whistle but then remembering he didn't want to awaken her, despite how happy he was.
He chopped some potatoes that Lynne had gotten the other day when she made him those omelets. Leif began making one of the only dishes that he knew how to make for breakfast, home fries with as much care and attention to detail he could muster. He was not the cook in this relationship at all, so the idea of cooking for his talented wife made him shy. Still he thought she would appreciate a nice breakfast.
He'd packed some of her favorite strawberry jam from his Mom's herbal farm in his suitcase, and he got that out, and he toasted a few English muffins. He saw they had a teakettle too, so, remembering how much Lynne loved a hot cup of tea, he made some tea for his bride.
Somewhere in all the sounds he was making in the kitchen, he heard Lynne stirring in their bedroom.
He went back down the hallway and stood in the doorframe of the bedroom, where Lynne was just getting up.
"You can relax back here if you want. I'm fixing you breakfast. I can either bring it to you, or we can eat it on the porch," offered Leif.
"You fixing breakfast? You need help baby!" insisted Lynne.
She yawned and stood on her tippy toes, and walked towards his long, lean body in the doorframe.
"I don't need any help Lynney, I can manage. If you want your breakfast on the patio, go ahead and sit out there," said Leif, swatting her ass with his bed pillow.
Lynne chuckled and beamed at him. She threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him solidly on the check. She reached into her suitcase and put on one of the bridal shower gifts she'd been given, a skimpy, flimsy little robe, which as far as he was concerned, may as well have been no clothes at all, not that he was complaining.
He loved the perkiness of her tits, and the duskiness of her nipples through the sheer white fabric, and that perfect tone of her honey caramel flesh hinted at beneath the lighter fabric.
"Something for you to read. Need to study how the pop starts give those interviews for when it's your turn on the cover," he added, pushing a copy of the latest rolling stone into her hands.
"Damn Leify, I love to read this on the weekend," said Lynne.
A gratefulness was in her voice that made the air thick between them. The details. She knew that he knew, and she knew that he cared.
"Duh! I know. I'm only your husband remember. And it's my job to learn those type of things to make you smile. Now get on out to the patio before the breakfast I'm trying to fix is cold," he added with a tweak to her nose and a swat to her ass.
Lynne's eyes were watery.
She leaned in and nuzzled him.
It was all he could do to pull himself from her, and he dotingly patted her rear and led her out to the patio.
A beautiful morning for his baby, and she could relax and take in the view. He hated to think about so many harsh mornings before he came into her life, maybe being forced out there early and bleary eyed to preach. Maybe feeling worried about what the day could bring when she couldn't really be herself.
It gave him a little bit of anger which was good as it helped him scramble the eggs for the potatoes really well. He didn't like to think about her parents trying to call her continually and ruin their honeymoon. A number change for Lynney might not be a bad thing. He'd think about bringing it up without worrying her about the phone calls. The woman deserved her peace. And she had so much integrity and wanted to be such a good daughter that if she knew they were calling, she would pick up that shit, or at least listen for a voicemail.
They couldn't want anything but bad news. Since he'd met them they'd been anything but supportive, and had downright abused Lynne, especially her father. And Lynne was like a pretty little rose, badly trampled underfoot, but still sprouting. She would continue to grow and her broken pedals would fall off and much stronger ones would grow in their place, but as her husband it was his sworn duty to keep her from being crushed underfoot.
If he walked to the edge of the kitchen, near the breakfast bar, he could see her out there in her tiny robe, looking over at the waves of the pacific ocean occasionally and engrossed her rolling stone. She looked peaceful, and safe. His baby. His sweet baby.
He'd never let anymore harm come to her.
Finally he finished the eggs, folded in the potatoes. He sat the Jelly and the toasted English muffins on a serving platter along with his generous helping of fried potatoes.
He started to open the patio but he needed help and banged on the glass and Lynne opened the door for him, smiling and he sat the bounty down before her.
"You bought the jam! And my favorite too! Strawberry!" she squealed.
"Yes I did. You'll get all your favorites from now on sweetness, and you can lick the jam off my fingers and suck them as much as you want," he added.
His voice was so gruff with emotion. He knew that was his baby's first foray into true emotional tenderness now, and now that he knew the pain she'd been raised with and the abject denial of affection and that fucking religious abuse, and how soothing it must have been to be someone's special sweetheart and licking all the wonderfulness from his fingers, and to know that he wanted to feed her body and her soul and fill her up with love.
His throat was lumpy because he knew something she didn't know. That they would still torture her! He would give her his last name and they were still trying to punish her! He wouldn't let anyone punish her anymore! She was sweet and full of happiness when she was with him.
And she knew she was cherished. He didn't even have to motion for her, as soon as he was seated, she climbed in his arms, right in his lap, where she knew she was adored.
"I'll always protect you," he added, patting her knee adoringly and kissing her forehead.
And she looked at him like he was the silly one, as though, yes, she knew he would protect her and so let's get on with breakfast.
He chuckled with warmth.
He wanted to throw her damn phone into the ocean.
He wanted to know if there was a plausible way he could break the damn thing and not have Lynne be the wiser that it was purposeful and buy her a new one, with a brand new number. She didn't need that kind of stress and drama in her life and he remembered the pallor that their phone call had cast on the wonderful trip to Cali before they were married. He didn't want that happening again.
She looked at his fingers, and at the jelly and at his fingers again.
"It's our jar of jam sweetheart, you enjoy it however you want okay," he added sweetly.
He knew it was the best part for her, and she couldn't wait to lick jam off her loving husband's fingers. He wanted her to know it was okay to lick his fingers, and she didn't need permission.
She grabbed his finger and grabbed the jar, opening it with the sleeve of her silk top to give herself traction.
She was in a hurry.
"You can enjoy it from my fingers just like this, for the rest of our lives, as often as you want. No need to rush at all,' he murmured kissing the crown of her head.
