by Mia Ford
Celia stared at herself in the mirror, before beginning to undress. She needed to take a shower, her strawberry blonde curls were in a tangled mess. Her brown eyes looked large with exhaustion. Her cheeks looked bright red, to match the color of her lips. It was as a result of the harsh sun; she was tanning quickly.
She slipped out of her blouse and her pencil skirt and rummaged through her suitcase for something more appropriate to wear. This wasn’t New York, this wasn’t her fashion-conscious office, this was a small-town ranch in Texas. She needed to dress accordingly. But she didn’t really own anything for the occasion. A thin cotton tunic dress would have to do, she thought and she laid it on the fluffy looking bed, before walking into the bathroom.
She turned the shower on and the mirror fogged up. Celia slid her hand across it to look at her face again. What had she gotten herself into? She was so far away from home, from where she was comfortable. Here she was surrounded by strangers. By a man who made her gut turn from how utterly handsome he was, but who also made her boil with rage by the things he said to her. And then there was his brother who was friendly and nice, but had something not quite right about him that Celia hadn’t yet figured out.
Either way, this was not the kind of adventure she had planned on having. If only she had paid attention to her grandfather’s life, and then she could have come prepared.
By the time Celia had showered, changed into the more appropriate dress and dried her hair, it was nearly dusk. She stepped out of the bedroom to be greeted by a strong whiff of ham being baked in the oven. She followed the scent to the dining room, where she found Conrad and her grandfather sitting at a long table, deep in hushed conversation.
She walked in with a smile, but they still hadn’t noticed her. Conrad seemed to be riled up in what he was saying, talking animatedly but quietly to her grandfather, who was sitting silently and listening to the other man, not offering any words of his own.
Celia cleared her throat.
“There you are! Feeling more relaxed?” Conrad jumped out of his chair and rushed towards her. She had noticed the way his eyes glittered when he saw her. His gaze had dropped for a moment to her full breasts, before he looked away, pretending like he hadn’t just studied her body.
“Sit down, here, take this chair.” He was fussing around her as he pulled out a chair next to his. Celia thanked him, smiled and then sat down.
“Mr. Moore is cooking us dinner tonight.” Her grandfather said from across the table. Conrad sat down with a thump next to her, his expensive smelling cologne filling her nostrils. Celia sniffed.
“Who cooks dinner usually?” She asked, a little surprised because she hadn’t quite pictured Wilder as a big chef.
“It’s usually Wilder. In fact, it’s always Wilder. Only because he’s very particular and he doesn’t accept any of our help.” Conrad said, dragging Celia’s attention away from her grandfather.
“Don’t you have a housekeeper?” She asked him, just as Wilder entered the dining room with a tray of ham, his hands covered by thick oven mitts, and an apron tied around his waist. She nearly burst out laughing at the sight. This tall strong muscular man, with his cowboy hat still on his head carrying a tray of ham.
“We’ve had six housekeepers in the past ten years, ever since our mother passed away, and Wilder has managed to drive away all of them.” Conrad said, eyeing his brother with a flourish in his gaze. Wilder grunted in response, not acknowledging his brother’s look.
“It wasn’t Mr. Moore’s fault alone. They probably couldn’t deal with the demands of three bachelors in a big house.” Her grandfather cut in, but Conrad turned to him now.
“Please Jack, don’t sugar coat it for Celia. It was all entirely Wilder’s fault.” Conrad said with a victorious laugh. Celia was about to smile when Wilder banged the tray of ham loudly on the table as he placed it.
“That’s enough, Conrad.” Wilder growled, rage dripping from his voice. Celia’s breath choked in her throat and she didn’t dare look at him, she didn’t want to know what his face looked like right then.
“I’m not your wife, Wilder. I don’t have to listen to all your commands. I have equal share of this house and there is nothing you can do about it.” Conrad said, in an equally menacing voice to his brother.
“I said that’s enough. Behave with some dignity in front of our guests.” Wilder said through gritted teeth, standing over his younger brother. Celia stole a look in Wilder’s direction now and she saw his blue eyes narrowed, a vein thick and angry running down the center of his forehead. He looked powerful, wild and frightening. She looked away from him.
“They’re not our guests.” Conrad said with a light laugh. He reached for the tray of ham and started carving it for his share. “It’s just Jack and his granddaughter.”
Her grandfather cleared his throat.
“Have a seat Mr. Moore, we’re all hungry and the food smells delicious.” He said.
The food did smell good. The ham looked like it was glazed with a special red homemade sauce, and bowls of mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables accompanied it, which Conrad helped himself with and started passing around the table. Wilder took a seat at the head of the table quietly and watched the food being served like a proud parent. Celia smiled to herself, this man was full of mystery, even though she was a little afraid of him. He made her shiver with anticipation, there were goosebumps on her skin.
“Eat your fill, Celia, although I hear that women in the big cities starve themselves to look good.” Conrad interrupted the silence.
Celia licked her lips and turned to look at him with a forced smile on her face. She was starting to dislike him more and more with every passing minute. There was just something unpleasant about him, despite his handsome smiling face and friendly demeanor.
“There’s no reason to stereotype us all.” She said, bringing the crystal glass of water to her lips.
“Why don’t you just leave her alone?” It was Wilder who had said that, and Celia whipped her head to look at him. This wasn’t something that she had expected him to say. Conrad broke into a loud laugh.
“Practice what you preach big brother.” He said, munching on his food.
“How are you feeling grandpa?” Celia spoke directly to him, ignoring the two quarreling brothers on either side of her.
Her grandfather looked tired, barely touching his food. He was drinking too much water and staring at his hands instead of concentrating on his dinner. He looked up at Celia and tried to smile when she spoke to him, but she could see it in his eyes that he was ready for bed, his illness had already got the better of him.
“Just tired, dear girl. I’ll be better in the morning.” He said, and Celia nodded her head.
“Of course. I’ll tuck you in whenever you want to go.” She said, holding her grandfather’s gaze.
“If Jack could have it, he’ll sleep all day, won’t you old sport?” Conrad said. Celia whipped her head to look at him in disgust. She wanted to say something, she was desperate to find the right words to say to this man who was hiding his true personality behind a curtain of fake friendliness.
“He’s sick Conrad. Show him the respect he deserves for his years of service to our family.” Wilder growled, this time he banged the table with a clenched fist. The glass beside his hand shook from the force.
“No, no, I’m fine. Let’s keep eating.” Her grandfather said, while Celia’s nostrils flared from the agony of it all. She was pained for her grandfather. How long did he have to endure this sort of treatment? Had he lived his whole life being treated by the Moore’s this way?
“I am showing him the respect he deserves. Ask him what I’ve offered him. We’re paying for his medical bills, aren’t we? Put a roof over his head.” Conrad’s voice had lost the friendly baritone now and he was snarling his words out at his brother. Wilder stood up, pushing the chair behind him. He was furious, more furious than Celia was.
“That’s enough Conrad. You will shut u
p right now.” He thundered and Celia clasped the necklace hanging from her neck tightly. What had she found herself in the middle of? What was this world her grandfather was living in?
“Or what? You’ll banish me from your kingdom?” Conrad said and laughed loudly. Celia stared at her grandfather who had turned his eyes to his lap again. He didn’t want to look at what was going on. He didn’t want to be a part of this.
“Conrad, the man is sick!” Wilder continued, placing his clenched fists on the table and leaning forward down the length of it. The table was so long however that he was nowhere close to reaching his brother. Conrad was still laughing; his laugh was ringing manically in Celia’s ears.
“What do you want me to do about it? Change his diapers?” He said, holding his belly as he laughed some more.
Celia couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up with a jerk from the table and threw the napkin from her lap on to the table.
“I’m taking grandpa away, to New York. This is insane.” She cried.
“No, no, Celia, sit down child.” Her grandfather said, but she wasn’t looking at him.
“He doesn’t deserve this. I’m taking him away from this horrid place.” She cried and ran out of the dining room. She could feel hot tears pressing against her eyelids as she ran. Straight through the living room, then through the foyer and out of the house, down the porch…running.
“Celia!” She heard Wilder’s voice behind her. She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. She needed to be by herself.
“Please leave me alone. I’ve seen enough.” She cried, still keeping her pace up. She wasn’t quite sure where she was going. It had gotten dark by now, she could feel the dusty ground underneath her feet, but all she wanted to do was get as far away from the house as possible.
“Celia. Will you just stop running!” His voice was getting closer; he was catching up to her.
Then she felt his hands on her waist and he had whipped her around. Her body crashed against his wide chest, her hands pressing against his shoulders. He was holding her by her hips, close to himself. In the dark she could see his blue eyes sparkling as he stared straight at her.
“Stop running, Celia.” He said, in a much softer voice. She was out of breath, but nothing before had felt this way before, to just be in his arms.
He was strong, his body was muscular and hard. She could feel the strength in his grip, the rigidity of his thighs against her own soft curves. He released her as suddenly as he had caught her, but she could still barely breathe. The last thing she wanted was to be aroused by Wilder Moore, but that was exactly what was happening.
“I can’t…he needs to come with me.” She said, still breathless from the running. As her eyes adjusted in the dark, she found him staring at her, contemplating her face, her body. His look had changed; he didn’t seem as frightening as before.
“Do what you need to do, Celia. He’s your family. But I want you to know that he will always be welcome in my house. He is like a father to me.” She heard him say the words but she couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was a softer side of Wilder that she could never have imagined in him. Her heartbeat was evening, she licked her lips and gulped.
“That was painful to watch. The way Conrad, the way you…how you were fighting about him, right in front of him.” Celia said, screaming a little, and pointing at the house. Wilder remained calm, he hung his head as though he was ashamed.
“I know. I apologize. I can’t control him, he’s a nuisance. A spoilt brat.” He said harshly. Celia took a few steps towards him, catching his gaze, forcing him to look into her eyes. She didn’t know where she had suddenly manufactured this new strength from. She had been afraid of Wilder, but not anymore. Now she had seen exactly what he was made of.
“You were rude to me. I can handle that. But cruelty towards my dying grandfather…” She said and before she could finish her sentence, Wilder had caught her mouth with his lips. His hands were on her waist again, he had pulled her close to himself and was kissing her, wildly, just like his name. She could feel the scratching of his coarse beard on her cheeks and Celia closed her eyes against the world, she could feel her knees buckling and her heart melting. She had wanted this from the first moment she saw him.
Wilder was kissing her ferociously, like he had been waiting to kiss her all day. But she barely knew this man, and yet she couldn’t resist him. He was the man of her dreams. She could feel his tongue inside her mouth as he explored it. His hands were on her hips as he held her close, their bodies were pressing against each other.
He pulled away from her, leaving her breathless, and she said his name…Wilder…
“I’m sorry Celia.” She heard his soft heavy voice, while he was tugging his hand away from her. She grabbed him and pulled him to herself again.
“I want this. I want you now.” She said, holding his gaze, asserting herself. She wanted him to see just how much she wanted him. How she hadn’t wanted any man before like this. She hadn’t had anyone before him.
He was kissing her again. Her cheeks, her chin, his lips tracing her skin as he tasted her long pale neck. She arched her back to make space for him. When she opened her eyes, she could see the stars above her, it was night already, and they were all alone in the dark, with the lights from the house visible in the distance.
She felt his chest under her fingertips, and she was slowly undoing his buttons one by one. His shirt flapped open and revealed a strong wide chest. A light dusting of hair lined the middle and she ran her fingers through it.
Slowly she felt his fingers graze her thighs, lift up her dress up to her hips.
“Celia…” He breathed her name in her ears, then bit on her earlobe, taking it into his mouth gently and sucking it. Her fingernails dug into his flesh as she held him. He was making her wet. She had never felt this wet between her legs. The boys she had been with, whom she had kissed, whom she had allowed to touch her breasts…none of them had managed to make her feel like this. She hadn’t wanted to give her virginity to anybody before, not like she wanted to give it to this stranger.
His mouth found its way down her throat to the neck of her dress. He was tracing a wet line down her cleavage, dragging down the fabric with his teeth. She felt the cool night breeze against the flesh of her breasts as he pulled down her lace bra with his mouth. She moved against him, stuck to his hips, while his right hand softly touched the inside of her thigh.
“Wilder, take me now.” She said, with her eyes pressed close. She couldn’t bare it any more. She wanted to feel him against her, feel his hardness in her hands. She could feel the knots in her belly tightening. What was this feeling? An incredible urge to grind her hips against his, invite him in.
His hand found her blazing hot wetness. He stroked her and she winced. Nobody had touched her there before, but somehow this felt natural, like he had always been there, like his fingers had touched her center before. He slipped his forefinger in, slowly at first, his mouth still on her breast. Celia moved in his arms, bending backwards, enjoying the sensation of having a part of him inside her.
Then his mouth was on her nipple. It had hardened from her arousal and he sucked on it, tugging it with his teeth. She yelped with joy at the feeling of having the wetness of his mouth on her nipple. He was pushing his finger deeper into her, preparing her for what was to come. Then his stroking became more powerful, and her wetness grew.
“Do you like that?” He asked, raising his head to look at her. Celia nodded her head at him, her face flushed with desire, her breathing constricted. It was too much to bare, he was torturing her, she wanted him inside her not just his finger.
“I’m ready for you, please, take me now.” She cried, in a breathy whisper. Wilder slid out his finger and in one swift movement unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans. They fell to his ankles, revealing what she had been waiting for. A thick throbbing dick that she couldn’t take her eyes off of. It was strong and erect, calling out to her and never before had Celia wa
nted something so much.
He pulled her to himself again and lifted her up. It was amazing how light and small she felt in his arms. He held her facing him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hardness was against her soft wet core; she could feel it throbbing against her skin. Celia bit down on her lip as he adjusted her, gripping her waist, pressing her against him.
Then he slid in without warning.
“You wanted this, Celia.” He said as she arched her back again, closing her eyes to feel the full power of him inside her. It was painfully pleasurable, the kind of feeling she had never felt before. He was big and throbbing inside her, she could feel his full length. He had thrust himself in completely, he hadn’t been tender with her this time. And he was right, this was what she had wanted.
She dug her nails into his arms as she clung on to him. He started pumping. She bounced in his arms as he pushed himself in and out of her. His face was darkened; his eyes were strained. It was like he couldn’t control himself when he knew he shouldn’t have been doing what he was doing. She wanted him to want her, just as much as she wanted him, but he was looking at her with anger, like she had made him do this.
He pumped inside her repeatedly, grunting with every thrust. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, knowing that she would never be the same again after this night. But this is how she had wanted to feel; this is how good she wanted a man to make her feel. So, wet that she couldn’t wait to have him inside her, so full to the brim with desire that she never wanted him to stop.
While Celia ran out of breath, Wilder only grunted, he could have gone on all night long. But he was reaching her deep inside, to her core where nobody had ever reached. He pumped and he pumped, while she bounced up and down in his arms, her strawberry blonde curls falling over her bare breasts that he had revealed.
A new feeling overtook her suddenly, she could feel her belly contracting, knotting up tightly, waiting to be released. He was bringing her to orgasm, using himself to manipulate her so that she would never feel this good again.
