The Fall - Book 2

236. Bucky, it's him!

AUGUST 3, 2020 — THE BARNES HOUSE — BUCKY

"Bucky?" Réa asks, her crystal blue gaze fixed on mine in the mirror.

I turn her to face me, then kneel in front of her, my hands returning to her belly.

"Do that again, Conall," I say. "Please, buddy, for me?"

"'Again'...wait, did yo—"

Another kick interrupts her...another kick I feel.

"Hi, Mac Tíre Beag," I say, my eyes filling with tears of utter joy as I realize I've felt my son move. "Are you doing what your mom refers to as jazzercise?"

I feel more movements—like flutters with varying degrees of pressure—beneath my palms. I look up at Réa, seeing tears shining in her eyes, and a few drops on her cheeks. The expression on her face reflects her emotions that, courtesy of our link, I know mirror my own: happiness, excitement, joy, gratitude, and two types of love—the boundless, incandescent, beautiful love between us, and vast, protective, unwavering love for our son.

I also feel something else—something new, something that I can't quite figure out—hovering on the periphery of our link.

"It's him," my wife murmurs, answering my unspoken question. "Bucky, it's him!"

"You mean...Conall...?" I trail off, almost afraid to believe this is real.

She nods, and through our connection, I feel her reach out toward that extra something...toward our son...and find myself holding my breath as I wait to see what happens. I feel the instant she makes that connection, because suddenly, there's a flood of vibrant, luminous joy and immense love that's neither hers nor mine.

My breath catches and my heart swells as the knowledge that my son loves me as much as I love him washes over me.

"It's nice to meet you, Conall," I whisper, resting my cheek on Réa's stomach. "God, I can't believe I'm meeting you." I swallow thickly as several tears roll down my cheeks. "I'm—we're—already so proud of you, Sclipire Noastră Micuța. Your mom and I both love you so incredibly much...as much as you love us."        (Our Little Twinkle)

"Your dad is right, Ár Mac Tíre Beag Láidir. We love you so, so much, Conall Ignatius, and we always will."        (Our Strong Little Wolf)

Though Réa's voice wavers with tears as she speaks, I can feel the utter truth of her words through our link, and I know Conall can as well...a fact that's confirmed as a bright burst of happiness flows through his branch of our connection.

"Your dad and I are so glad that that makes you happy, Conall. All we want is for you to be happy, and to know how precious, and cherished, and loved you are, sweet boy."

"You mean everything to us, Conall," I add. "We're so grateful that we get to be your parents."

Suddenly, my wife tries—and adorably fails—to stifle a yawn.

"Your mom and I are going to hang up now, buddy. She's very tired, and needs her rest, so that you can keep growing. We love you."

"We love you," Réa echoes.

A few moments later, Conall's branch of the connection is closed, and back to hovering on the edge of the link between me and my wife.

"That was amazing." I look up at Réa; there's a brilliant smile on her face that I know matches mine. I press a kiss to her belly, then stand and cup her face in my hands. "Thank you. I wouldn't have any of this without you...I..." I pause as more tears gather in my eyes. "Because of you, I have everything I've ever wanted; everything I've ever needed." I swallow thickly. "I love you, Réa. With all that I am, that I was, and that I ever will be, I love you. Through any- and everything, always and forever, in this life and the next."

I press my lips to hers in a tender kiss, then shed the rest of my clothes before removing hers. I lift her into my arms and carry her into the shower, placing her on her feet beneath one of the cascades. We wash each other, our touches gentle and lingering, and soon the familiar heat is again simmering in my veins.

As we dry off, gliding towels over each other, that heat intensifies, until I feel like there's an inferno beneath my skin. Once we're dry, I again scoop my wife up and carry her into our room, keeping her in my arms as I pull back the covers and settle us into bed. I hold her close, my vibranium fingers lightly tracing her spine; she looks up at me and stretches up for a kiss.

Knowing she's tired and needs to rest, I try to keep the kiss chaste, but it quickly turns into something heady and intense. Réa's arms twine around my neck, and she presses her body against mine. I trail my lips over her jaw and down the column of her throat, reveling in the breathy gasps and soft moans that slip from her.

"Make love with me," she breathes. "I'm ready, and I want to feel you."

In response, I slip my hand between her legs, and a ragged groan escapes me.

"God, Réa...you're drenched."

I slide two fingers inside her and settle my thumb on her clit; she lets out a pleading whine, even as her body arches into my touch.

"Bucky, please," she says, her breathless tone causing my cock to twitch. "I want you."

"Roll over, on your other side," I reply as I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick them clean, humming in pleasure.

She lets out a beautiful whimper, then does what I've asked and rolls onto her left side. I line myself up with her center then move my hand to her hip as I slowly press into her. Once I'm buried inside her, all the way to the hilt, I still.

'Perfect...she's perfect,' I think.

I turn her head and place a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then I begin to move. I set a languorous pace, and each time I roll my hips into hers, she presses back against me, matching my rhythm. Her hot, wet channel grips me like a vise, and even though our lovemaking is slow, it doesn't take long for her walls to begin to flutter around my length.

I press kisses to her neck and shoulder as I slide my hand between her legs, my finger settling on her clit. I circle the sensitive bud, elated by the throaty moan that slips from her. I work my hand between her thighs as I maintain the languid pace, and soon she flies over the edge, her core contracting around me as she cries out my name in ecstasy.

I ease her through her climax, gliding my hand over her body as I continue to move inside her. I don't speed up, content to stay like this, with her in my arms, her tight, wet heat surrounding me.

I don't know how long we move together, physically expressing our feelings for one another; honestly, it doesn't matter. All that matters is this: the connection...the love between us that only grows stronger and deeper with each moment.

Eventually, we reach our peaks, tumbling over the precipice together.

I hold my wife close, my length buried inside her and my body curled around hers as we both come down. I occasionally brush my lips over her cheek, neck, and shoulder, leaving soft kisses in their wake; she twines her right fingers with mine and lifts my hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of my palm.

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. I love you so incredibly much...more than I ever knew was possible."

"I love you, too, Réalta Geal Barnes."

A yawn escapes her, and she presses herself even closer to me. "Good night, Bucky. Sleep sweet," she murmurs.

"Good night, Réa. Sleep sweet," I reply, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Soon, her muscles go lax and her breathing becomes deep and even with sleep.

"Întotdeauna și pentru totdeauna, Miracolul Meu," I whisper before I follow her into slumber.               (Always and forever, My Miracle)