Raw and Broken Ch. 06

He fucked me leisurely from behind, his height putting him at the opportune angle. My incoherent cries were in syncopation with his pants and groans. His hands squeezed and parted my cheeks. Gripped and guided my hips. I was so close. I just needed something more.

And then suddenly, he smacked my ass with his open palm. I screamed. Gasped for breath. Then begged him to do it again. After three more swats, I was trembling beneath him, blubbering tears of joy.

He continued to thrust hard and fast until he was shaking as well. His own release came with a spewing of grunts and obscene words with my name intertwined. Afterwards, he gathered me in his arms and carried me over to the couch. He held me close, kissing all over my face as he whispered how much he loved me. I could only whimper as I drifted on the edge of consciousness.

I would have to talk to him about the spankings later. Was it a masculine instinct to smack a fine ass? Or had he thought—somehow known—I needed the extra boost to get over the pinnacle? Maybe I didn't need to give up all of my desires. Maybe there was a middle ground.

###

I took one last look in the mirror and smoothed out my skirt over my knee-high boots. I was checking my hair when Stefan wandered out of the bathroom. With a towel around his waist.

"Why aren't you ready to go?"

"It's just a few yards away. You don't need to wait for me if Becca needs you in the kitchen."

"It's Christmas. My first one with the people I want to be with in exactly the place I want to be. We should go together. Besides, the second I see her, I'll spill the secret."

"You've kept it for a month now. Surely, you can hang on for a few more hours."

"Don't ruin this for me. Please."

He kissed me on the lips. "Yes, mon amour."

I followed him around, handing him pieces of clothing until he was dressed. I noticed it had been another fifteen minutes before we made it downstairs. We were finally heading out the door when he said he'd forgotten the bottle of champagne he'd purchased just for today. I tried not to grumble as I waited on our beautiful front porch that was just beginning to be dusted with fresh snow.

Malcolm opened the front door before we'd reached the mansion. "Good of you to join us. My wife has been complaining that she was afraid no one was coming to Christmas dinner."

"I thought Alexander and Cameron were here already with Beth?" I shrugged off my coat and toed off my shoes, thankful to be in the warmth of the house. The wind had picked up since my walk just a few hours ago.

"They are. Darryl and Ginger, too. But you know Becca. If you're not here, no one's here."

"Aww."

"We don't see you enough," Stefan said dryly, and I could practically hear his eyes rolling. "We really should get together more often."

"Don't mind him," I said, swatting my fiancé's arm and returning Malcolm's hug. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, sweetie." He kissed my cheek and let me step past before he slapped Stefan on the back in their manly hug. "The women are battling the stove. The men are drinking beer."

"Typical." Before I could head toward the back of the house, Becca came waddling down the hall in a long sweater dress. I'd picked it up in Milan, and it looked absolutely adorable on her. "There's the mother of my future niece or nephew. And you're rocking that outfit!"

"I feel like a model in it!" She embraced me as best as she could with her basketball-sized belly now, rocking me side-to-side for a moment. "Thank God, you're here. What took you so long?"

"You know men. They take forever to get ready."

"Yes, I do. It's just..." She suddenly took my hand and pressed it to her belly.

I grinned, feeling the baby kick three times. I couldn't stop the longing inside for when I'd be at that stage. I hadn't gotten that far with Lilly. "Do you think he or she can smell this wonderful food?"

"Probably feels my stomach rumbling because it's making me hungry."

"He's not the only one," Stefan said, giving Becca bises.

She was grinning and her cheeks turned red. "What makes you think it's a boy?"

"I'm a man. Men want boys."

"But I'll love a daughter just as much," Malcolm laughed, gesturing we should all get out of the foyer.

Every time I fidgeted during dinner when someone brought up Malcolm and Becca's baby, Stefan squeezed my hand under the table. It had been our silent agreement to hang in there. I was trying to hold out until we did presents.

It also helped that I had anxiety about Beth's reaction to finding out I was pregnant with another man's baby so close to the death of her eldest son. She had been very quiet when I'd announced our engagement over a phone call. While I'd promised she'd always be a part of my family—she was like a mother to me—and she'd given me her blessing, I'd cried for an hour in Stefan's arms after we hung up. I understood where she stood. It had only been a year. Yet, wasn't it for me to decide when I was ready to move on?

Ginger and Cameron offered to bring in the pecan pie and vanilla ice cream. As soon as everyone was served, Darryl turned the conversation to me. My back stiffened as soon as he said my name.

"So Daphne," he said, "have you given any more thought about what you're going to do now that you've settled in?"

I squeezed Stefan's hand this time. "Well, I've been going over my options. I know that Claudette was disappointed we weren't going to move to Paris. And the same for Muriel when I told her I wouldn't be coming back to Chicago."

"Are there even opportunities out here?" Becca sighed as she swallowed a spoonful of the sweet dessert. "For modeling that is?"

Malcolm patted her other hand on the tabletop. "I'm sure they thought of that."

Stefan cleared his throat. "We did consider it, and there really aren't. But—"

"If you tell me you've changed your mind and you're leaving for France again, I swear..." Becca said, her smile falling.

"No, we're not leaving," Stefan said, moving to put his arm around my shoulders.

"Then what?" Darryl said.

"I'm not going back to modeling." I took a deep breath. "At least for a long while."

"I echo him," Malcolm said, pointing to our mutually kinky friend.

Stefan tightened his grip. "I'm going to manage my mother's business abroad, as planned."

My chest swelled with pride. "And I'm going to be a stay-at-home mom."

Becca made some noise between a grunt and a shriek as she pointed a spoon at me. "That's why you wouldn't have a glass of wine!"

The room was suddenly full of cheers and congratulations. Hugs and kisses abounded as everyone got up to come to our side of the table. I was hugging Darryl when I noticed Beth standing out of the way. The small crowd of family and friends suddenly stilled and parted as the matriarch approached.

I held my breath as she leaned down and placed her hands on my cheeks.

"Daphne, my dear, you will always be my daughter-in-law. Losing Drake does not change that. He loved you. Wanted the best for you. You should be happy. And from what I can tell, with Stefan—and your coming child—you are."

"Thank you." I wasn't sure she heard me as I thought maybe I'd said the words in my head.

"I don't know all of the details, and I don't need to. But I know it wasn't always easy for you with my boy. He had his demons. We all do. He just chose to handle them in a different way. But you hung in there with him. Tried to make things right. None of us will ever know if your efforts would have paid off, but you did try. Thank you for that. You are a very brave girl."

I definitely could not speak now as tears filled my eyes and throat.

"You will be a wonderful mother." Beth turned her smile to Stefan and placed a hand on his head. "And you will be a wonderful father. I'm proud to have you both in my family."

###

We took a break from clearing the table to open presents. There were a lot of boxes and bags filled with clothes and toys for the future baby McClaren. The final gift was a top-of-the-line cappuccino maker from Malcolm and Becca to Stefan and I. My fiancé's insistence that I open it—and his chuckle as I screamed when I ripped off the paper—clued me in that he might have had something to do with the gift idea.

Afterwards, I helped clean up the kitchen while Becca relaxed with her feet up. I scolded her for working too much today. Her only reply was that she'd done the same to me before and would be doing it again. Soon. Then she hugged me tight and said she couldn't wait for our kids to play together. That blood or no blood, they would always be considered cousins. Family.

I cried. But only a little.

The lights shut off behind me as I wiped down the kitchen island. Cameron and Ginger walked past, pausing their chatter to let me know the food was all put away and the dishwasher loaded. I thanked them and smiled as I thought about how they had been outsiders, like me. Given time, we'd all been welcomed into the fold.

Malcolm joined me. "How are you doing, Daphne?"

"Good."

He held my chin for a moment, his own smile faltering. "Are you? Be honest with me? I know you."

I turned to the living room where everyone was lounging on the new couches and chairs that allowed for more seating. Between them, the coffee table held several mugs of coffee that steamed away, forgotten as stories were swapped while the snow fell harder outside on the beach. The tree and mantle were elegantly decorated, yet not over the top. The food had been delicious—and I'd been able to help. The whole day had been perfect. Family, friends, and memories.

This is exactly what I had dreamed the holiday would be like. Should be like. I couldn't ask for more. Except for maybe a couple of rugrats crawling around. But that would be next year.

I smiled widely up at Malcolm. "I am good. Very good."

"I'm proud of you, you know?"

"Really?"

"Yes. You've grown so much. Not just in the past year." He turned to lean his back against the edge of the counter. "I remember when we first met. You were so scared. That girl? She would have never flown across the country for help. Gone to Europe on her own."

I nodded, frowning. "Yeah, I think she's finally learned her lesson."

"There will be more lessons to learn. Different ones. Never forget one thing, okay?"

"What's that?"

"You've always got us. No matter what. No matter where you are. Welcome home." I sniffled as he pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. Yes, I'd finally found home.

###

The new year brought a new Rockland into the family the second week of January. I was the proud aunt of a nephew, a baby boy—like Stefan had predicted—that Malcolm and Becca named Landon Drake. He was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. I dreamt that night of Landon and Lilly playing together. But it was the only night, and Stefan held me as I cried at the thought that Landon wouldn't be able to meet his uncle and cousin.

Stefan and I traveled the Fashion Week circuit again in February and March. Afterwards, the whole crew—Malcolm, Becca, Landon, Beth, Alexander, Cameron, Darryl, and Ginger—joined us in Paris as we got married on the estate. Claudette's side, not ours. We honeymooned in Spain, and then stayed an extra month at our house in Paris to do a project with Claudette and Muriel, who had been there with her girls for their six-month excursion.

Once we'd returned home—as Mr. and Mrs. Stefan Brunet—I was so glad to be off of my feet. I still had four months to go until I was due, but I wasn't taking any chances. And neither were Stefan, Malcolm, and Becca who coddled me like I was the baby. Plus I got a lot of experience spending time with little Landon. More than ever, I was glad we'd chosen to live here in Delaware. Someday, the situation may change for either of our families. But for now, this is where I was meant to be.

###

I laid back on the prop bed after I finished my fifth photography session with my husband. It was a project we decided to do where he would shoot just my belly each month in black and white, and we'd hang the prints in a collage in the nursery. I was surprised at how comfortable the mattress was. I could probably take a nap on it. A fact that only rang more true as Stefan removed my shoes and began massaging my feet.

"That feels amazing. Thank you." I flung my arm over my already closed eyes to block the brightness of the overhead lights he'd used to create the right shadows for the scene, wincing as he hit a tight muscle.

He released my foot. I was about to complain that he didn't have to stop—just be more gentle—when I could tell the room had grown darker, even from behind my eyelids. I cracked an eye open to see that just a dim light above the bed remained. I lowered my arm and blinked.

"Is that better, mon amour?"

"Hmm," I mumbled as he commenced with the massage. My eyes drifted closed once more. I was on the cusp of sleep when he laid down beside me, spooning my body from behind.

"Any other areas that need my expert touch?"

I smiled and reached out for his hand. My fingers circled his thick wrist and brought his arm across me, laying his palm over my breast.

He took the hint and caressed lightly, making me moan. "Like that?"

"Mmm hmm." I gasped as he increased the pressure. And his lips grazed the back of my neck.

It took little effort for him to get to my bra and tug the cup down to reach my bare skin since I had rolled my top up for the photo shoot. With the lightest touch, he had me gasping for breath. Writhing against him as he stroked the soft underside of my breast. As his thumb brushed my puckering nipple.

I turned my head to kiss him. He dragged my lower lip into his mouth with his teeth and slid his tongue back and forth over it. We both moaned when he slid his hand over the swell of my belly and beneath the elastic waistband of my pants.

I whimpered as his fingers moved lower. Deeper. Found the heat I could feel between my legs.

When he rolled backwards, I went with him, my legs falling open. His other arm wrapped around my chest and held me against him. I felt his hand cup my pussy. His middle finger slid inside of me. His other fingers spread my swollen lips apart. The heel of his hand pressed against my clit in slow circles.

I gasped, pressing my feet flat against the bed for support. I clutched at his arm as my orgasm crested.

"That's it mon amour. Come for me."

I cried out his name as the wave crashed over me. I barely felt him lower my pants and roll our bodies to the side. But I moaned loudly as he slid in from behind, increasing the tremors still flowing through me. Then we were moving as one again.

Afterwards, we lay in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs as he stroked my damp hair. Kissed my lips. Told me how much he loved me. How glad he was that I'd come to Paris. Even that I'd rejected his advances for six months.

He said he'd used the time to study me. To learn who I was. What I liked and didn't like. To get to know me as he'd never done with a woman before. He thanked me for my stubbornness. He felt like he'd become a better man as a result...for being forced to take his time. To become my friend above all else.

I could only agree.

###

FOUR MONTHS LATER

We were hosting Christmas this year. Due to a pending snow storm, only Malcolm, Becca, and Landon made it over to see us. The men ran things in the kitchen. And us mothers took turns playing with Landon—who loved to crawl everywhere now—and holding our pride and joy, Hope Isabelle.

After an early meal and opening presents, the McClaren family bundled up for the short walk to the mansion before the snow grew any heavier. We were left with a house that still smelled of turkey combined with the pine of the Christmas tree and the cranberry-and-orange scented wax melting in the living room warmer. Faint holiday music still played from the stereo.

"Did you have a good holiday, mon amour?" Stefan joined me at my window seat and kissed my lips.

"I wouldn't trade this day for a thousand Christmases in Paris." I nuzzled a sleeping Hope closer to my chest and returned my husband's kiss.

"I can tell you're very content. As is my daughter." He leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Hope fussed for a moment, yawned, and then let out a soft coo as she returned to her slumber.

Stefan kissed my cheek. "How about you put her down and I cash in my Christmas present?"

I resisted the sigh that wanted out. Instead, I nodded and gave him a smile.

Forty minutes later, I was standing in our living room, silently telling myself I only had to do this the one time. I concentrated on breathing evenly as he snapped away with his camera. It wasn't like the photo shoots I was used to. It was much more intimate. And I had to admit it...arousing.

He had used red and green jute rope to wrap me in what he called a Shibari fashion. The way he'd twisted and tied the two colors had produced a design that looked like a halter-top leotard. Malcolm would have been impressed. I definitely was.

Stefan posed me by the tree. In front of the fireplace. And of course—my favorite—in the window seat. He even used the time lapse option on the camera to join me for the latter, stripping off his shirt and posing in just his pants. I was struggling not to lick my lips by the time he'd said we were finished.

Upstairs in the warm silence of the house as the cold snow fell outside, we made love. We lay spent in each other's arms afterwards, and I thought of all times I'd done kinky things in the past. Never before had I been so turned on as I had knowing he was capturing my raw emotions forever within a frame.

I giggled softly as I drifted off. The masochist had apparently been replaced with an exhibitionist. Who'd have guessed?

~ H