“Holy shit, you feel different," I tell her, swallowing my shock.
“How do you mean?” she growls back at me.
“You're just getting softer; I can feel you opening up,” I explain, hoping it will encourage her.
“That’s helping,” she tells me, as I reach my other hand around her hips so I can stroke her clit.
“Just breathe, baby. Breathe and relax for me. You're doing so good.” I keep feeding her my fingers, feeling her getting wetter as the contraction subsides. She reaches her head around to kiss me, and I fill her mouth with my tongue, kissing her until I feel her start to tighten again.
“Another one already,” she starts to sob.
“It’s okay, we’ll get through it together. I’m here.” I keep stroking her walls with my fingers, feeling her whole body stiffen as another contraction hits its peak. “You want me to stop?” I check when her body stops rocking against my hand.
“No, keep going; make me come again.” She’s close, I can hear it in her voice, and when I take my hand from her clit, and wrap it around her throat instead, I know the perfect way to make her finish.
“Come for your husband, Gracie. Show him what a good girl you are,” I growl into her ear, as I fuck my fingers as deep as I can get them, and the long moan she makes isn’t out of pain, it’s all fucking pleasure.
“Good girl, good fucking girl. Soak these fucking fingers.” I wait until she’s finished before I kiss her cheek and, as I slowly slide my fingers from her pussy, the gush that follows after them makes us both jump.
“Shit!” I look between her legs, and when I see that the plastic sheet covering the mattress beneath us is drenched, I quickly look back up to her.
“Gracie, I think your waters just broke,” I tell her, not knowing why I’m so fucking shocked. It’s to be expected during labour.
“You did say to soak your fingers.” She smiles awkwardly over her shoulder.
GRACE
“We’re really on the home stretch. Not long, and we can start pushing.” The doctor finishes another examination of my cervix.
“I’m barely getting any rest between them,” I tell Jack, leaning forward and using his arm to sit myself up
“You need the gas and air to take the edge off now,” he tells me, placing a cold flannel to my forehead and wiping the hair from my sweat-soaked face.
“I’ll need it for when I push,” I growl back at him, knowing this is going to get worse. I’m already anxious - just the sight of Dr. Stratton sliding her gloves on is triggering. It reminds me of the paramedics and their gloved hands pumping my mum’s chest, as they tried to bring her back in the ambulance.
“I have plenty of canisters; we won’t run out. Especially now we've made it to this stage without it,” Dr Stratton assures me,
“Can you leave us, please?” I ask her, gripping Jack’s arm and reminding myself to breathe.
“Gracie, I think we’re getting to a crucial time now. I really think she should stay.” He looks from me to the doctor, and I grab his shirt and pull him closer.
“I want us to be alone; she’s only here in case something goes wrong.”
“That wasn't really the dea–”
“It’s the deal, now!” I yell at him, stiffening when another contraction starts to build.
“You can wait in the room across the hall,” he tells her apologetically. Stroking my leg and trying to soothe me.
“Gracie, will you just take the gas and air? You're so close, the pain's not going to get any worse.”
“How many babies haveyoubirthed?” I manage to ask him, shifting back onto my hands and knees to try and eliminate some pressure from my spine.
“The doctor should be in here; how will we know when you can push?” He sounds worried, and I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath in the small gap I have between pains.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and growling when I get slammed with another.
“Okay. I think it’s time to push!” I cry out, seeing the panic in his eyes when I rest my head back against the pillow and feel the pressure in my pelvis get too much.
