Page 13 of The Facilitator, Part 3

I told her that I’d heard from Alex and she was concerned to learn Gabriella and Dominic had been ill.

We chatted about the baby and where the christening would be.

Gabriella had suggested one in each country, I wasn’t sure how that would work, but she seemed excited about a proper English country christening.

Of course, Dominic would inherit his father’s title and Gabriella was now a Lady.

Something she was also excited about still.

I chuckled remembering when she discovered she hadn’t just married a lord but a baron as well.

Alex had told her that he was a Baron but like most with that title, they simply stuck with Lord.

“I’m going to have a bath,” she said, sitting up. I smiled as she kissed my forehead and left the room.

I showered and slowly dressed. I watched her put her makeup on, marveling over her new products.

She stood in front of me wearing just her underwear, turning so I could admire the view, and laughed when I reached out for her.

When she stepped back into the sitting room, wearing her new purple dress and shoes, with her hair pinned into a messy bun and her makeup perfect, I gave a slow whistle.

“Man, I’m going to struggle tonight,” I said.

She laughed as I placed her hand in the crook of my arm and we walked to the lift. “I love your bowtie,” she said. I’d purposefully chosen purple to match her dress.

The hotel had booked a limousine for us.

We sat in the back as it navigated the London traffic.

When we arrived at the opera house, the driver opened the door for us.

I led Lauren through and we were shown to our box.

Champagne sat waiting on ice for us. She picked up the brochure that was left on her seat and flicked through.

“Mackenzie, this is amazing, thank you so much,” she said, as I sat beside her and handed her glass.

We had the box to ourselves, at a great cost since I’d had to purchase all six seats. I had plans, however. I smirked at the thought.

“I wanted to do something special since you’ve been so sad,” I said, telling her the truth. “I also wanted just a little escape from our normal.”

“Are you bored of our normal?” she asked. Her brow furrowed in surprise of my statement.

“No, not bored at all. I love you and whatever our normal is. I also want to make sure we never take advantage of that normal, that we don’t get too comfortable we lose the spontaneity of what makes us and our relationship so special.”

She stared at me. She smiled and shook her head. “You amaze me every day,” she whispered.

“I know. One minute I’m telling you how wonderful my cock is, and then something as profound as that.” I mock shuddered. “I think I’m getting old,” I added.

Lauren laughed, harder when we heard a tut and gasp from someone in the neighboring box.

They couldn’t see us, but obviously could hear.

I chuckled. It wasn’t much longer before there was a call to take seats.

I topped up our champagne. I saw Lauren held a packet of tissues in her hand and I guessed she expected to cry.

However, they’d be handy. When the lights lowered and the opera began I leaned over to her.

“Lift your dress to your waist,” I said. She turned sharply to me and I stared, unsmiling. “Now,” I added.

She blinked a few times and smiled. She wriggled in her seat, lifting her silk dress to her waist. I placed my hand on her thigh and left it there.

I circled her skin as Butterfly and Pinkton married, but their guests left, renouncing her.

I moved slightly upward as Pinkerton and Butterfly prepared to spend their first married night together.

As the drama increased on the stage in act three, I started to run my fingers farther up her thigh.

She held a tissue to her mouth and I wasn’t sure if that was to drown out her sob from what she was watching or her gasp from what she was feeling.

I slid my fingers over the crotch of her panties, smiling as she squirmed.

I pushed her panties to one side and slid my fingers in.

While Pinkerton’s boat sailed into Japan and Butterfly was waiting to meet him with his son, I increased the pressure.

The music stepped up. Lauren opened her mouth and sucked in air.

She swallowed hard and ran her tongue over her lower lip and then bit down with her teeth.

Her breath hitched when it was discovered that Pinkerton had remarried and he wanted his new wife to take over the child.

Butterfly agreed as long as she could see Pinkerton one more time.

When the man walked onto the stage, I stroked higher.

Lauren’s chest rose and fell in time with my finger pumping in and out of her.

She fidgeted, squirming in her seat. She parted her legs as far as she could and gipped my hand tighter.

I needed her to hold off on her orgasm for just a little longer. I slid to the floor and removed my fingers. Her eyes opened wide, she didn’t know whether to look at the stage or me. She chose the stage. I held her thighs open, knowing we were shielded from any prying eyes.

As Butterfly blindfolded her son, I teased Lauren’s clitoris.

As Butterfly handed her son an American flag, I nipped her pussy lips .

As Butterfly plunged a knife into her chest, so I plunged my tongue inside Lauren.

Her gasp was loud, her sob even more so, and disguised by the gasps of those new to Madam Butterfly . The music started and Lauren held my head, tears ran down her cheeks as she came.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

I’d returned to my seat by the time the lights came back up. I took one of Lauren’s tissues and wiped my lips.

She stared at me, openmouthed, wide-eyed. “I can’t believe you just…” She blinked a few times and then closed her eyes. She pursed her lips and breathed out slowly. She laughed. While people left their seats, she sat there and laughed. She wiped tears from her eyes and laughed some more.

“I have no words,” she said.

I stood in front of her, shielding her a little, and pulled her to her feet. Her creased dress fell back to cover her.

She was still chuckling when we left. We walked through Convent Garden dressed in our finery, as did others.

There were people in jeans, shorts, black tie, and entertainers in circus clothes.

I took her hand and led her to a restaurant with a rooftop terrace.

We followed the waiter up the narrow stairs to our table on the balcony.

We could look down on the square and watch life going on.

“I think I need a vodka, lime, and soda,” she said when asked.

“No champagne?” I asked. She shook her head.

I place my order for a bottle of red wine. I was sure Lauren would join me after her aperitif. She reached across and took my hand in hers.

“I don’t know what to say about this evening,” she said, chuckling.

“Thank you?” I offered, and she laughed some more.

“Honestly, I don’t feel like I should be laughing as much as I have today. It’s only a couple of weeks since we buried him but somehow, it feels okay. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect. He was a fun guy; I highly doubt he’d want you to mourn too long. He’s released now, Lauren, he’s been stuck in that broken body for so many years. He’s finally out of it.”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to believe Mum when she said he wanted to die, but I knew. Deep down, I knew he hated living. Even though he had brain damage, I believe he still had memories and that must have been so frustrating for him.”

A server arrived and we ordered our meals. She took the menus and left us. “I honestly don’t deserve you,” she whispered .

“You do. Don’t have that thought in your mind at all.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. We people watched, we chatted about the opera, what she could concentrate on, of course.

We ate and we drank wine. We ended with coffee and it was with reluctance that it was time to leave to head back to the hotel.

A hovering server suggested they might have more people for our table. I hailed a taxi and we rode back.

“Nightcap?” I asked.

“On the terrace?” she asked, and I nodded.

We took the elevator to our room and I called down for another bottle of wine.

We were both a little tipsy but I could hold my liquor way more than Lauren could.

After another couple of glasses she was giggling like mad and dancing around in her bare feet.

I caught her as she tripped and carried her to bed.

She stood with her arms held high so I could remove her dress.

Her mascara was smudged and I licked my thumb to run under her eyes. “I’d prefer you smudged my lipstick,” she said.

“Are you able to consent?” I teased, I knew my wife, and I’d know if she wasn’t.

“Mr. Miller, I’d really love it if you used that large and gorgeous cock of yours to make me come. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done so many times these past couple of days,” she said, pouting her lips .

I did as she asked, of course. I made her come and once she had, she fell asleep in my arms.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, we checked out. My car was outside the hotel and a porter loaded the trunk. I put the roof down and slid my sunglasses over my eyes. Once I’d tipped the valet and the porter, I climbed into the driver’s seat.

Lauren looked over to me. “Home, my amazing husband,” she said, laughing.

I drove us through the traffic home.