What Goes Around...

Part Fifty One

Chapter Fifty One

Coop held her close to him, he wasn't sure that his heart beat would ever restore to normal. He'd done it, he'd not only convinced her that she was the one, but he'd also asked her to marry him. He hadn't planned that, not now...not yet. Though since he went and confronted Michelle, confronted his past it seemed right, perfect.

After he'd left the house earlier, moments after Oscar challenged him, "are you going to marry her?" he'd phoned her parents, asked her father if he'd agree to it.

His reply was "seems it's a bit late for my permission."

Coop had sighed at that, "I didn't plan things this way around."

Fred Wicker had laughed then, "it's not perfect, but what is? Of course I'm happy, lighten up Cooper. Though me and Margaret are planning to visit, to come scrutinise you soon. You may change your mind after that."

Coop looked at Freya's small hand, with the almost perfectly fitting ring on her finger, resting too low on his stomach, and his body started to respond.

"Again?" she asked finally lifting her head to stare at him.

He shrugged, "it's what you do to me!"

She rolled so she was half over him, the smile on her lips making her look like the cat that got the cream, and that pleased him so much, but then when he'd fallen on top of her what seemed like hours earlier, he'd followed through on his promise, he'd devoured every inch of her, twice. She was a writhing mess of pleasure when he'd finally entered her and they'd both driven over what felt like a cliff edge together. But it wasn't enough. He wasn't sure it would ever be enough.

Her hand and gone from resting against his overly sensitive flesh to trailing erotic patterns in at his hip and lower abdomen. With a groan he tried to roll her over and take control, he was desperate to assuage the need in him, but first he had to light that fire in her too.

But she stopped him, propping onto her elbow, staring down at him, "you have worked very hard so far. It's my turn now."

If he'd been excited before, the thought of what she might do was about to make him explode, she grinned at his expression and ran her thumb over his bottom lip. "I've never done this before though...and it's the one thing you've not taught me. Will you tell me what to do?"

As she waited for his answer, she backed down his body, her tongue tasting him all over as she went. He propped himself on his elbows, watching and feeling, all the while holding his breath. Kneeling between his thighs, she took him in her hand and when she looked up at him through hooded eyes, he knew that this was a ridiculous request.

She cocked her head to one side, "will you?"

He could barely find his voice, instead he mustered a croak, "if you do what I think you're about to do...I don't think I'll be able to speak!"

That made her smile, and tucking her hair behind her ears in a move that in anyone else would be so contrived but in her was as innocent as it was erotic, she dropped her head, and as predicted, he lost control of everything.

"We need food," Coop nuzzled at Freya's ear, but she had her eyes resolutely closed. "You're going to have to open your eyes soon."

She shook her head, "wanna stay here."

He smiled; he knew why she was saying that, a large part of him didn't want to leave the bed ever. But she was pregnant, and she had just been one half of a sexual marathon. "We have to get up, we have to eat...and we have to face up to Oscar."