Pulse of the Beat (Unspoken Vows)

CHAPTER 43 : Sweet Heat at Home

Hey everyone! 💕From Sept 12 to Sept 28, I worked nonstop on this beast of a chapter... and here it is: Chapter 43...58,903 words! Grab your snacks and enjoy the ride 😅📖.

Lucy shifted restlessly beneath the heavy warmth of their sheets, tossing from side to side, her body humming with a mixture of anticipation and the kind of electric energy that seemed impossible to ignore. The quiet of the night pressed against the walls of their home, but inside their bedroom, the air seemed charged, thick with desire and the soft, almost frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. Her hand instinctively wandered to the gentle curve of her growing bump, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over the soft swell of skin. The feeling of life inside her, of the tiny movements and flutters, only seemed to heighten her awareness, her need, her unspoken demands for the intimacy she craved. Tim stirred beside her, half-asleep, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of slumber, until the subtle pressure of her body against his became impossible to ignore. A soft, almost pleading groan escaped him as she pressed herself closer, nudging, insisting, her lips brushing against his shoulder and whispering gentle murmurs of longing.

He rolled his eyes lazily, still caught in the haze of sleep, and muttered with a teasing groan, "Lucy... five months pregnant and you're... insatiable..." His voice was thick with sleep, but there was an unmistakable warmth and amusement lacing every word, a mixture of surrender and playfulness that matched her relentless teasing. His hands found her, brushing over her back and the swell of her belly, fingers splaying across skin that seemed to glisten faintly with the heat of their closeness. Lucy's laughter, soft and low, vibrated against his chest as she pressed herself against him, feeling the familiar give and pull of his body, the surety of his strength beneath her. She reminded him gently but insistently of the nights he'd pushed her to her limits before, the teasing flash of memory making her cheeks warm even as she melted against him, the pull of desire igniting again as he responded with careful, deliberate movements that made her body arch instinctively.

Outside the intimate cocoon of their bedroom, the house remained quiet—or so they thought. In her room down the hall, Tamara stirred, her eyes snapping open at the sounds that leaked through the walls with almost perfect clarity. She groaned, burying her head beneath her pillow, muttering to herself with a mix of exasperation and disbelief, "Oh my god, again?" Her teenage frustration battled with the realization that this was the life of the household she had been part of for almost two years now. Still, the walls betrayed far too much for comfort, and she vowed silently to spend more nights at Celina's, if only to escape the constant symphony of her guardians' love—intense, unrelenting, and completely audible.

Back in their bedroom, Tim's playful protestations evolved into a rhythm of gentle groans and whispered confessions, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin at the curve of Lucy's neck, tracing invisible patterns that sent shivers through her spine. "You're going to turn me into a full marathon runner," he murmured, voice thick with a mixture of amusement and awe. Lucy chuckled softly, fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly as she whispered back, teasing, reminding him of all the times he had pushed her beyond exhaustion, of all the nights when he had been the one to surrender only to find her still insatiable. Each word, each touch, each subtle movement seemed to weave them tighter together, a mixture of love, lust, and the unshakable bond that had formed over years of marriage, through the births of their four children, through sleepless nights and chaotic mornings.

The night stretched on, time folding into a private rhythm of gasps, whispers, and soft laughter. When they finally lay together, bodies slick with the evidence of their closeness, Tim felt a rush of awe as he traced the soft line of Lucy's jaw with his thumb, his other hand settling across the swell of her belly. She was radiant, glowing in a way that made his chest tighten with both love and a cautious fear—an awareness that the intensity of her needs, her energy, could only mean that there might be more than one little life growing within her. Lucy's head rested against his shoulder, eyes closed, a soft, satisfied smile playing on her lips, her breathing slowly evening out, but the flush in her cheeks and the heat that lingered on her skin betrayed the recent storm of passion.