The Lover's Children novel Chapter 52

KLEMPNER

Retracing my path, I circle in, tracing circles around her sex. Not penetrating. Simply stroking…

Waiting for her arousal…

Willing her arousal…

Mitch groans. "God... Larry...”

My shaft pulses and I move, sliding down the length of her, opening my mouth over the cleft between her breasts, the undulation of rib under skin, the bare swell of her belly.

But she tangles fingers into my hair, staying me, “No. It's wonderful. But I want you inside me.”

“I wanted to make you climax.”

She sounds rushy, breathless. “You will.” Her touch on me tightens, urging me back. “Please. Inside me. Let me feel you.”

I kiss the shallow dimple of her navel, the pale lines drawn over her stomach by her second pregnancy with Vicky. I know they trouble her. As though I don’t also carry the marks of the life I’ve led. Drawing lips and tongue over skin tasting a little of salt, and now scented of no more than the perfume of Mitch, I ease my way along until I meet the dip of her collar bone. Rolling atop her, for a bare moment our chests, bellies and loins touch and slide, before I lift myself, taking my weight as I enter her.

I watch as I penetrate, her beautiful face, eyes squeezing closed, lips peeling back. As I'm fully inside, her eyes open, settle on me, and she smiles.

And how can I not smile too?

She reaches to meet me, her face to mine, the lush warmth of her lips, the wet burn of her tongue, the smooth edge of her teeth… The hardness of my shaft within the yielding softness of her sex as I move inside her, pressing in, drawing out, coaxing her response.

Mitch lets her head fall back, eyes closing. “Harder.”

Rearing over her, I drive in, slamming into her hard, revelling in her involuntary gasp as I knock the air from her lungs, and the wild sound wrenched from her throat…

Fingers clutch into my shoulders, clawing in as she arches, straining under me as we ride together. Slanting to support myself on an elbow, I cup under her hind end, lifting her to meet me as I drive in. She gurgles, crying out with every thrust…

Am I hurting you?

… I falter, checking my rhythm, the power of my stroke, but the nails bite again. Her voice is raw. “Don’t stop…”

Again, I plunge into her: deep, forceful, close to violent. But she wants this, her hips pistoning with mine as we move together…

The moment comes: she arches, stills, and tenses. Trembling and quaking, she throbs within, and her cry of orgasm is hoarse, glorious and triumphant.

Mitch clutches at me, within and without. And my own climax is born of hers. It wells inside me: unstoppable, consuming, and complete in the way I never found with any but her. The pleasure takes me and leaves me blind and deaf to anything except the woman who brought me to this.

Gasping, sated…

… exhausted…

…and my head still ringing, I drop…

… then belatedly, at the answering whoof from Mitch, realise I have collapsed my weight onto her. “Sorry.” I roll away.

She chuckles, low and fruity. “That’s okay. I didn’t need a ribcage anyway.”

I loop an arm around her and she snuggles closer.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Forgiven?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It was the last thing on my mind.”

She doesn’t reply…

The silence draws out…

“Mitch?”

“You did wrong to Borje. You should apologise to him.”

Hmmm…

“You think?”

“Yes, I do.” She rolls, stares me in the face, pinches at my chin. “You had nothing on him except unwarranted suspicions.”

“Not unwarranted. I saw him the day of the murder. And he was at the site.”

“A forensic pathologist? Borje had a perfectly valid reason for being there.” She levels a finger at me. “More so than you. It’s his job.”

Diplomatic silence seems my best reply.

Mitch sits up, plumps a pillow behind herself. “Are you going to apologise to him or not?” When I still don’t answer, her face sets. “Why are you so sceptical of him? I can’t see you have any real cause for suspicion. What has he actually done?” Her head tilts. “Or have you simply taken an irrational dislike to him?”

“It’s not irrational, Mitch. I… can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t trust his manner with Georgie, why he behaves the way he does with her.”

Her mouth twitches. “When did you become an expert on human relationships?”

“Alright, “I snap. “Score one for you. But Borje doesn't behave normally with her…”

“In what way, not normal?”

A quick check: Richard’s newspaper lies neatly folded by his place-mat.

From out in the hall, the clunk of the front door.

Klempner strolls in. “Mitch is right behind me. Said something about fixing her hair.”

Michael looks up from where he’s rummaging through the cutlery drawer. “What’s wrong with Mitch’s hair?”

Klempner shrugs. “Damned if I know.”

I unhook a pan from its peg. “Larry, you’ll be having poached eggs, I suppose?”

“Thank you, James, yes.”

“Eggies, Nunky Jammy!” Cara bangs down on the plastic tray with plastic knife and fork. “Eggies!”

“You want an eggy for breakfast, Cara?”

My little black-eyed marigold beams. “Eggy!”

“Charlotte?”

“Sounds good. Cara, would you like dippy toast too?”

More banging. “Dippy! Dippy… Dippy… Dippy…”

I collect another carton from the fridge. “Eggies all round, then.”

Charlotte slides a couple of slices into the toaster. “Anything special on for today?”

“Not really. I may be late back from the office. The car needs some work. I asked Benny to do it. Ah, good morning, Mitch.”

Klempner pours pale green tea into a china cup and saucer, slides it across the table to her. “What’s the problem with your car, James? Want me to take a look?”

“Some odd noises coming from somewhere below. Could be the suspension. These mountains roads take a heavy toll. You’re welcome to look if you’d like to, but Benny’s qualified now and it’ll bolster his confidence. I asked specifically that he be given the job but until he gets back to me, I don’t know when I’ll be mobile again. Ah, Richard, Beth. Good morning. Eggs for you too? And Adam?”

“I’ll come pick you up,” says Klempner. “There’s no need to rush your staff.”

“Thanks, but if I have to leave the car, Richard can bring me back.”

“Ah-ha.” Richard hovers between coffee pots. Shakes his head. “I’ll not be there. Got an afternoon meeting with Mayor Vandervoort and his cronies, about the plans for the teenagers’ refuge…” He nods an acknowledgement to Klempner… “Your idea’s been very well received. So we’re going through the discussions on what services and facilities will be needed.”

I scoop eggs onto plates. “You don’t want me along for that?”