Forever More

by Rachel De Lune

  “They were all horrid, Izzy. You can’t possibly consider moving into one of them.” Jess isn’t shy about expressing her disgust.

  “I know, but what else can I do? I can’t stay here forever.” We both drop down on the sofa, relieved to be back inside and warm.

  “It’s barely been a few weeks, and I like having you around.”

  “Thanks, Jess. I appreciate it.” I fidget and pull my feet up underneath me, gathering my courage to tell her about my conversation with Seb. “Seb asked me to move in with him.”

  “What? When? And why am I only finding out about this now?” She’s suddenly on full alert.

  “I said it was too soon.”

  “Jeez, it is fast. I know you love him, but do you really know enough about him to be thinking of moving in?”

  “Look, I already said it was too soon. He’s not even back from Manchester yet. I’m worried that if I move in I’ll be dependent on him. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, I’m still married and have been taken for a complete idiot by my husband for the last god-only-knows-how-many years. I don’t want to make another mistake with Seb. I’m sure waiting is the better option.” I say the words but can’t help wondering if I’m being stubborn for the sake of it.

  “Just think about the house situation. I bet Seb won’t want you moving into one of those grotty places we’ve just seen. Remember you don’t have to go anywhere.” She stands up and heads towards the kitchen. “Cuppa?” she shouts back to me.

  “Yes, please,” I call back.

  I have a few more places to view later on in the week, but my initial enthusiasm at starting my new-found independence with a flat has crumbled. As has my hope of finding a hidden gem of a new place. I text Seb to let him know I’m home and try to determine what I want to do, in amongst everyone else’s opinions for me.

  Bleary and cold, January is showing its icy teeth and I hate it. Everything is cold. The dingy flats I drag myself to see, my conversations with Seb, even his texts. The week has been horrid. It seems I have hurt his feelings by refusing to move in with him straight away, which is ridiculous when you look at the facts.

  I arrive back at Jess’s and I’m greeted by a dark and empty house. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I’ll miss Jess’s company tonight. Waiting for Seb to come home this weekend is going to kill me. If he doesn’t make it then I will be making a surprise visit to Manchester.

  I haven’t heard from him this afternoon, but I text him to let him know I’m home and will be waiting for him. I try to keep it light. The last thing I want is to be the insecure girlfriend. Still working on the trust. He promised to be home this weekend and that should be good enough for me.

  I retreat to my room and glance at the clock on my phone. No sooner do I slump onto the bed than the doorbell rings. I groan at having to drag myself back downstairs, but I do. I open the door to see Phil standing on the step. My hackles rise and I’m instantly filled with dread.

  “What do you want, Phil?” I pull the door close to me, blocking his path into the house.

  “You don’t seem to understand me when I tell you that we won’t be getting a divorce. I thought a more direct approach would help.” He smiles, a nasty smile that makes my skin crawl. Adrenaline spikes my system. Being home alone with Phil on my doorstep sends an icy chill through my veins.

  “No, Phil, I’m not playing. We’re getting a divorce. You can’t stop it, only cost yourself more money.”

  “Oh no. After my money paid for the house, you won’t be seeing any of it.” He takes a step towards the door and I shove my weight behind it to close it on him. He shoves back, stopping me from locking him out.

  “Stop it. Go away!” Panic grips my voice and makes me push harder.

  “Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut? Everything was going fine. Now Sophie’s pissed at me and people at work are talking, thanks to Laura’s big mouth.”

  Phil is bigger and stronger, but my fear sends adrenaline pumping into my muscles. I force my body against the door. My feet scramble for purchase on the floor. The air burns in my lungs as I hold my breath and force all of my weight into the wood, trying to shove it closed. The door wavers and I get pushed back. Fear clutches at me. My heartbeat pounds and my teeth clench. I can’t let him in. I can’t let him in.

  I slip on the floor and fall, allowing the door to swing open. I scuttle backward in the hall as Phil prowls over the entrance.

  “You don’t get to do this to me, Izzy. You are my wife and I call the shots here. You’re a fool for thinking you can try and dictate to me.” Phil’s enraged voice echoes inside the house.

  My legs scramble beneath me as I stand up to him.

  “I might be a fool, but not for wanting a divorce.”

  “Why you stupid…” His face contorts as he pulls back his arm, ready to hit me.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my house, Phil! Get out. Get out now. I’m calling the police.” Jess’s voice rescues my shredded nerves. Phil drops his arm and backs off from me as Jess storms past, coming to my side.

  “Well? Out.” She faces off against him and he retreats.

  “This isn’t over, Izzy.”

  She slams the door shut after him and I slide down the wall and pull my legs up to my chest as adrenaline flees my body. My blood races through my veins and I take a few calming breaths. I sit. Anger and fear stew inside me as I think over Phil’s threats. It makes me feel sick. I can still hear him outside and so I close my eyes and block my mind, hoping he’ll go away.

  “Are you alright? Izzy? Izzy, look at me.” Jess kneels beside me, a soft smile on her face. “Why don’t you come into the front room. I’ll put the kettle on.” Fear wins over my anger and roots me in place. I don’t want to move. I’m safe, Jess is home. I’m safe.

  Gentle knocking startles me from the place I’ve mentally retreated to, but I don’t react. It continues.

  “Go away, Phil. I’m not opening the door. If you don’t stop this, I’ll call the police!” Jess shouts.

  “It’s me. Open up.” The deep tones of Seb’s voice break through my fear and my body kick-starts. I jump to greet him. I fumble with the lock. Seb flings the door open as soon as the lock opens and knocks me back trying to get to me. I’m engulfed in his strong arms as he pulls me into his embrace. Safe.

  “Was Phil here? Did he hurt you? Look at me, Izzy.” His hands tilt my reluctant face to his. My eyes find his filled with concern. I can only hope I can hide the sadness in mine.

  “He was, but he’s left. She’s just shaken, I think,” Jess offers.

  “Thank you, Jess.” She disappears into the kitchen.

  “I wasn’t sure when you’d make it back.” I look up at him feeling utterly relieved that he is here.

  “I was on my way back to Bath when you texted me. You’re an amazing motivation, Isabel. Tell me what happened.”

  “Phil turned up. He doesn’t want me to proceed with the divorce. He… threatened me when I couldn’t keep him out.” I see the steely look transform Seb’s face as he processes my words.

  “I want you at my house. Now. Come on.” I happily comply as he releases me.

  “Jess, I’m going with Seb, okay?” I shout through to her.

  “Alright, hun. I’ll see you soon.” I grab my bag on the way out and let Seb take me away to safety.

  The tension drains from my body the closer we get to Seb’s. Phil has left me rattled, but I don’t want him to cloud my time with Seb.

  Seb parks the car and proceeds to pull his luggage from the boot.

  “You didn’t come home first?” I’d have thought he would have dropped his things off before coming to see me.

  “No. I wanted to get to you as soon as I could.” With every word he says, my heart swells and I forget the nagging doubts of the past week. “Make yourself at home. I’m just going to put this in the bedroom. Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet.” Seb disappears into his room and leaves me in the kitchen. I survey hi
s home and try to picture myself here. Yes, it’s beautiful, but can I see myself living here? With Seb? The house shouldn’t matter. The person I love will help make the home. It’s just so sudden. So fast.

  I’ve gone from making all of the decisions in my life—what to cook in the evening, where to go, what Phil and I did when we used to be a couple—to being in control of nothing. Phil cheated and I’m likely going to end up in court because he’s contesting the divorce. I don’t have a house or home of my own. Everything is sliding through my fingers and it’s unsettled me more than I thought it would.

  Yet, with Seb there is always a glimmer of hope.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Seb’s seductive whisper tickles my neck and I forget my introspection.

  “I was just thinking about your home.”

  “Oh, what about it?” Seb comes round to join me on the bar stool.

  “Well, I was just thinking about what I’d consider in a home.”

  “And?”

  “And, you interrupted me.” I grin up at him, feeling playful for the first time in days.

  “You’ll pay for that comment later. I want you to think seriously about moving in with me, especially after this evening.”

  My attempt to lighten the mood has fallen on deaf ears. “It’s not that I don’t want to move in with you…”

  “Good. That’s settled.”

  “No. I don’t think now is the right time. Please, Seb. There is so much happening in my life right now. I don’t want to rush this and be reliant on you. I want to do this right, when we’re ready.”

  “I’m not happy about you staying at Jess’s anymore. Phil knows you’re there, and you were terrified when I got to you earlier. What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up?”

  “Jess was there. And I would have called the police.”

  “You can’t always depend on Jess, or the police, to be there when you need them. I want to protect you and look after you. I want you in my home, Izzy.” In his eyes, I see the genuine desire to protect me. Again, I question why I’m fighting this. It’s what I want in the long run. But I can’t escape the voice in my head that’s shouting for me to do something that gives me some independence. Moving straight in with Seb doesn’t do that.

  “This isn’t the evening back I had planned. Do you want to eat? I’ll order some take-away.”

  “That sounds great.” I take a needed breath from the tension that surrounds this topic. This isn’t the reunion that I had planned either.

  We eat in an awkward silence, neither one of us really sure what we want to say. Seb’s in constant contact with my thigh, his hand resting casually just below my hip. I know it’s there for a reason. I want his hand to caress and console me, to take me back to when he teased me to distraction and I struggled to eat my food. But a flash of disappointment runs through me when his hands stays put for the remainder of dinner.

  I sneak a few sly glimpses at Seb from under my lashes. His handsome face has maintained a concentrated frown all through dinner. I want to lighten his mood, but I’m nervous. I don’t want to start a conversation about moving in again. My hand moves to slide up his jean-clad thigh. He’s kept his hand on me. Why shouldn’t I return his touch?

  I watch his face to see if my movement has an effect on him. I slowly rub my palm in a soothing circle, moving higher and higher with each swipe. My fingers itch to explore and grow adventurous. They span out and reach for the crease of his hip. Seb rewards me with a small re-positioning in his seat. He still hasn’t said anything or moved his own hand away. My courage grows and I move my fingers to the inside of his leg and run them up towards his crotch.

  “Izzy, don’t start something you don’t want to finish.” His warning lifts my spirits.

  “Who says I don’t want to finish this?” I look up at him and he finally meets my gaze. Hungry eyes shine back at me and my pulse takes note.

  “If you mean that, you’re missing something from your room.” My anklet. I’m off the stool immediately and headed to my room at a pace only just shy of running.

  The bed is still un-made from when I left it on that disastrous night, less than a month ago. I take the jewellery box from the dresser and sit down on the bed. I didn’t change from work before seeing Seb. Luckily, I’m in trousers, otherwise I’d certainly be wearing tights. I fasten the anklet and let the light catch in the stones, shining their own happy chorus back up at me. I walk back to the kitchen at a more refined pace and wait for Seb’s instruction. He’s not in the kitchen anymore. I glance around and see he’s waiting in his chair in the sitting room. He’s brought a dining chair in as well, positioned in front of his chair. I move over towards him but wait for him to take the lead.

  “Are you wearing your anklet?”

  “Yes.”

  “You remember what that signifies, what it means when you wear it?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Tell me. I want to be clear that you understand.”

  “It means that I will submit to you completely, do as you say without hesitation and trust you.” As I speak the words, I feel their meaning throughout my body. They reaffirm everything between us—the underlying current that brought us together, the desire I have to submit to this man and put my trust in his hands, to give up my control freely and willingly. Emotions surge to the surface and I need to concentrate to hold back my tears.

  “Very good, sweetheart.” Seb stands and prowls toward me. Anticipating his next action has me panting on the spot. Strong hands wrap around the back of my neck, tilting my head up to meet his lips. The kiss that I have been missing all week hits me with crushing force. Lips lock with mine and demand my complete submission. I give him everything, my will, my soul, my love, and he takes. This is what I want. This is what we need—to reconnect with each other.

  He releases my mouth and steps back, assessing my body from my feet up. The hurried passion from a moment ago is replaced by the calm and controlled Sebastian that has my body quaking.

  I relax and force myself not to fidget. Seb has proven that he won’t be rushed and likes to challenge my comfort zone. Finally, he moves towards me and pulls my shirt free from my trousers. His fingers pop the buttons free until my shirt is gaping open.

  “Your turn,” he commands. I repeat his actions on him, eager to feel his hard muscles under my hands. I want nothing more than to run my palms up his naked chest, but I know not to do anything he hasn’t already done to me. He didn’t ask me to do that. Once his shirt is in the same state as mine, I drop my hands to my side. His smile tells me I’ve understood his game.

  He slides the shirt from my shoulders, peeling it from my skin and skimming my arms with his touch. When the shirt hits the floor, he looks to me. I smile and run my hands under his shirt and down his arms, feeling all the tension in his muscles. My hands take his shirt, and it joins his on the floor.

  We move on to our trousers. As Seb’s fingers skim my tummy, my muscles shake, anticipating more of his touch. He pulls the zip down and then slides both hands down and around my bum, rewarding me with a squeeze before the material pools at my feet. I step out of the legs and wait for my cue.

  We repeat the game, taking our time with each little reveal until we’re both naked. Our restraint is a palpable pulse between us. Liquid desire seeps from my pussy. I anticipate the crush of our bodies, but it doesn’t come. Seb turns to take a seat on the dining chair. He crooks his finger, beckoning me over to him.

  “Now, I want you to straddle my lap. I’ll guide you.” He pulls gently on my hips, urging me forward. As gracefully as I can manage, I step around his thighs and slide onto his lap. He’s higher than I thought and I struggle, feeling off balance. His hands squeeze my hips, seating me directly against his rock-hard cock.

  I can only just touch the floor with my toes, balancing on his hips. When I try to move, it’s unbalancing.

  “No grinding, Isabel. I want you to stay still and just feel. Understand?”

  “Yes, Seb
astian,” I whisper. My clit presses up against the base of his cock, enough to tease and ignite all of the nerves around my clit.

  He keeps one hand on my hip, securing me, while the other hand is playing with my nipple, gently caressing the tight bud. The touch resonates deep in my belly, and I recognise the building pressure of my orgasm. All of the anticipation from this evening makes me ready to explode in a matter of moments.

  Seb replaces his fingers around my nipple with his mouth, sucking and nipping with his teeth. I want to move and satisfy my clit, now begging for attention. My pussy wants to be filled. I try to gain purchase on the floor with my toes to rock into Seb, but I only manage a small movement. Frustration claws at me. A moan escapes my lips. “Not yet.” He bites my nipple hard as my punishment, but it just causes my pussy to weep further. “So responsive. Can you feel how much your body likes my touch, Isabel? How much you enjoy being helpless?”

  “Yes. I want to feel you.”

  “I know, but you need to learn control and patience.” I struggle against the spike of desire that has overcome me. I’m lost to Seb’s touch. I lean forward, forcing my breasts into his mouth, and I’m rewarded with his own moan of pleasure, deep in the back of his throat. I grind as much as I can, using the very tips of my toes as leverage. My clit throbs and I feel tiny pulses of static spark through my body.

  “Enough!” He reaches for the table and grabs a condom. I wiggle down his thighs so he can cover himself before he wraps his arm around me to lift. He pushes the head of his cock through my folds, then pauses, barely breaching my opening before he pulls me back down onto him.

  We both moan in pleasure. I immediately want to ride him but I can’t. He’s holding my hips down so I can’t move. All I can do is take him and feel the pulse of him inside me. I shudder and surrender my body. All of the control is in Seb’s hands. Not being able to act allows me to concentrate on just how good his body feels in me. The connection is so rich, so vivid that it fills my soul, consuming me. All of the love and passion I feel for Seb fills my heart and I open myself up to this man, even further than I thought possible.