by Fiona Cole
One hand buried in my hair and the other shifted to repay the favor, twisting and pulling at my breasts as he pushed me down over and over again on his cock.
Too soon, he pulled me off, and I whimpered my disappointment.
“I need to be inside you.”
He helped me stand before tossing me on the bed. I bounced and scooted back, watching him strip his pants and stalk to the nightstand, almost ripping the drawer off in his eagerness to get a condom.
Watching him roll the condom over each inch had me on the brink of fingering myself right then and there, not even wanting to wait the ten seconds for him to get between my thighs.
As if he could read my mind, he placed a knee on the bed and glared. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“I know that look,” he said with arrogance.
“What look is that?”
“The one that says you’re on edge and too impatient to wait for anyone else, so you’ll do it yourself. The one that says I want what I want, and you can’t stop me.” He crawled between my thighs, untying the strings at my hips painstakingly slow. “Is your pussy eager for me? Does it want my fingers?” he asked, stroking his fingers through my wet folds and circling my clit. “My mouth?” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked my cream from them, closing his eyes and letting out a moan. “Or to be filled with my cock?” He rubbed the head of his shaft up and down my slit, pushing in the tiniest bit. “Hmm, Arabella? Which one do you need?”
“All of it, please. Just stop torturing me.”
“I should tease you—drag this out for hours after the way you’ve tortured me the past few weeks.”
“Willem, please.”
“Lucky for you, I’m eager too. So, I’ll pay you back later. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”
With one slow thrust, he pushed all the way to the hilt, holding my eyes the whole time.
The air in my lungs slipped free, barely rushing back in before he did it again, stealing any oxygen again and again. As if he couldn’t decide what he missed more, my hugs or my body, he fell over me, holding me tight, fucking me hard and fast and then harder and slow.
I clung to him just as tightly, kissing every inch I could reach, pressing my breasts to his chest, so each thrust caused them to bounce against his chest hair.
“So fucking tight. Like you were made for me.”
Running my hand through his hair, I pulled him back to look at me.
“Maybe I was.”
His brilliant blue eyes swirled between heat and so much caring and need I could only hope it was anywhere near the same love that filled me. I couldn’t be the only one in this.
He ran his nose along mine, delivering the sweetest, softest kiss against my lips. “Maybe you were.”
“Willem…” I wanted to say it then. I wanted to confess how much he meant to me as my eyes burned, the emotions too much.
Before the words could slip free, he sat up, pulling me with him. “Ride me.”
Resting my forehead to his, I flexed my thighs and rocked back and forth. His hand moved to my ass, pushing to urge me faster, pulling a gasp from my parted lips when his finger slipped between the crack to brush against another place no one had ever touched.
“Oh, god.”
“Someday,” he promised.
It was the sweetest promise I’d ever heard because it wasn’t some illicit promise to claim every inch of me. It was a promise that there would be a time in the future when we were still together.
It spurred me on, and I rocked harder.
“Good girl,” he encouraged. “You fuck me so well. So hard, I’m going to come.”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Come for me,” he ordered.
I rode harder, chasing the orgasm he demanded I have. “Help me,” I begged. “Give me more.” My plea fell with double meaning, and his hooded eyes let me know he understood both.
His hand slipped between my thighs and brushed against my clit, his other gripping my ass so tight I hoped for bruises in the morning. I held on to him, our bodies slick, my eyes glued to his, and with only a few swipes across my swollen bundle of nerves, I came.
My hands dug into his hair, and I held him to me, tears leaking from the corner of my eyes as my world exploded and pulsed and slammed back together, all in his arms. He circled my clit, easing me down from my orgasm, just to grip both my hips and raise up to his knees, holding me in place as he fucked me like a freight train.
My pussy pulsed with aftershocks on the verge of coming again when I looked down at his tight abs, straining arms, and thick, fat dick tunneling in and out of me.
When he reached his orgasm, he toppled us over, sliding as deep as he could, and I latched on to his lips wanting to taste his moan. I dragged my fingers through his hair, past his neck, and across his shoulders, just to reverse the path and do it all over again.
My thighs ached from having them spread around him, but I never wanted to move. I was uncertain what happened once he slipped free, and the immature girl inside me wanted to stay like this forever. I wanted to stomp my feet and cross my arms, refusing to move.
With as much hesitance as I felt, he slipped free, easing the separation with a long kiss. He softly drank from my lips. As frantic as they were before, they were languid and exploring now.
“Let me get rid of the condom,” he whispered against my mouth. “Then we can sleep a bit before going again.”
Before he could get up, I gripped his wrist, holding him in place. Not even being able to meet his eyes in fear I’d see the answer before he said it. I wanted to prolong any pain as long as possible, so I stared at where I gripped him and asked, “And tomorrow?”
The longest pause of my entire life followed.
My heart crumpled in on itself when he twisted his wrist out of my grasp. Tears burned up my nose as I struggled to swallow down the lump, fighting with all I had not to sob in his bed and beg him to not do this.
His finger stroked my chin, forcing it up so I looked at him, and I saw the last thing I expected.
A smirk to rival mine. Full of arrogance and an emotion I was too scared to hope for.
“Tomorrow, there’s a special marathon on the best hidden cities in Russia and Europe. I figured we could order food, curl up on the couch, and pick our favorites.”
Euphoria slammed into me. More than I ever thought possible.
One of my favorite experiences abroad was when I had woken up early in Scotland and climbed the highest mountain in the UK. I’d struggled and thought about going back at least a hundred times. But the happiness I felt at the top—feeling beyond lucky when the rain stopped, and the sun peeked out. It was like the clouds parted just for me.
That feeling had nothing on what Will’s words did to me.
I thought I’d float off the bed. My heart, where moments ago tried to crumble in on itself, grew to almost bursting. Nothing could stop the smile that took over.
His thumb traced my lips, and he smiled like the skies parted just for him too. “I love it when you smile. It’s so rare to get more than a smirk that it makes it all the more special.”
Wrapping my lips around the tip, I kissed him and rubbed my cheek like a cat against his palm.
He went to stand again, and I gripped his wrist one more time, sitting up.
I couldn’t hold it back anymore, and if for some reason he went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror and saw a reason to come back with another answer, I needed to say it now.
He turned to me with furrowed brows, and I clung to him, terrified he’d pull back but more terrified he’d never know.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
His smile slowly grew with hesitance.
“I know it comes with a million strings attached, but I don’t care. Call me immature or selfish or childish. I don’t care, Will. I’m falling for you, and I do know that I’ve never felt this before, and I don’t
want to hide it. And I know that love is hard and that if we want it enough, we can make it work.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, finally just stripping the condom and dropping it on the hardwood floor. “I’ll clean it later.” With that, he climbed back in bed and pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.
I climbed on his lap, wrapping around him. This was how we showed our love. This was how we showed how much we cared. By holding on tight and comforting in a way no one else ever had.
Even if he didn’t say it back, I had this. He hadn’t called a stop to everything at my proclamation, and I’d take it. As long as he didn’t leave my side, we could grow from there—together.
He pulled back, pushing my hair back from my still damp forehead, his eyes bouncing all around my face like he didn’t know where to look first. Finally, he settled on my eyes, stroking my cheek.
“I’m falling in love with you too.”
This time when tears came, I let them fall, too happy to bother stopping them. He huffed a laugh and brushed them aside. “I’ve never said it to anyone, but I didn’t expect you to cry at my proclamation,” he teased.
“I’m just so happy, I don’t know what to do with it.”
“I have a few ideas.”
He kissed me again, but only for a bit.
“We have to hide it at school. At least until the semester is over. No more teasing.”
I rolled my eyes in jest. “Fine. But I guess I should let you know I dropped your class yesterday. I spoke to my counselor, and we both agreed economics wasn’t in my plan. Even if the professor is.”
His proud smile washed over me. “Good. Although you’re missing out. Economics is the best.”
Another eye roll had him laughing.
“Your dad…” he started.
“Will have to understand. He’s important to both of us, and I know he’s your family. But I’m your family now, too, and I promise to stand by you no matter what.”
“I promise to stand by you too.”
Any more happiness, and I was sure I’d burst like a balloon any second if I didn’t give some of it to him. I rocked in his lap, kissing and biting along his jaw, my teeth scraping against his scruff.
He groaned, but gripped my ass, pulling me closer. “I need to eat and refuel.”
“We will. I just want to kiss you. Just for a little while.”
And just like when all this started, we made the promise, both of us knowing it was a lie.
We were so much more than just a little while.
Willem
Epilogue
4 Years Later
“Arabella Colins.”
I watched proudly from my seat as she crossed the stage, her trademark smirk fully in place. She held it there, up until she shook hands with the school president, and shouts and applause broke out in small cells around the ceremony. Shouts from further away from her mom and dad, and high-pitched whistles and catcalls from her friends in the mix of students.
It took all I had not to join them.
She scanned the crown, her lips fighting the losing battle to remain pinched closed. When her eyes finally locked with mine, she lost, and the smile I’d fallen more in love with each day over the last four years shined through.
I love you, she mouthed.
My chest puffed up that this beautiful, brilliant woman loved me—chose me every day—even when it was hard.
We’d hit our ups and downs, especially when Harry found out about us—in the worst way possible. With my hand shoved down her bikini bottoms in their pool house the summer after her freshman year. We’d planned to tell him…just not like that.
My jaw still hurt from the punch he landed.
When he’d kicked me out, Arabella had followed and stood by my side every second of the three months he refused to talk to me, reminding me of her love at every doubt and turn.
We’d made it through every semester abroad she did.
We made it through the semester she decided to give the dorms a try.
We made it through every handsy guy I wanted to pummel at the bar. Thankfully, she finally quit yesterday.
We made it through the explaining of our relationship to the Dean of Economics when Arabella ended up having to take some economics courses.
We stood by each other as she grew into the woman I loved. I never wanted to hold her back from the growth she embraced with both arms. When we started all this, she was nineteen, determined and stubborn to make her way even if it meant barreling headfirst through cement.
At the end of the ceremony, the woman walking toward me learned that maybe using the door could get her to the other side with much less struggle and damage. Although, she tended to kick the door down each time, and I loved it.
“Dr. Deander,” she greeted. “Or Uncle Will?” she asked in a breathy voice.
I scowled.
She laughed.
“Fine, Dr. Uncle Will.”
“I swear to god,” I grumbled. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of quite a few things. Wanna find a closet and try them out?” She nodded her head to the side, biting into her plump lip and sliding her arms around my shoulders.
“I’m going to need more room than a closet for all I want to do with you,” I promised.
She stepped indecently close, pressing her groin to mine. Thank god for this oversized graduation robe to hide the effect she had on me.
“Will you keep the hat? It’s so kinky.”
I snorted, tugging the fluffy velvet cap off my head. Her long fingers dove into the messy strands and attempted to tame them, really only serving to turn me on more.
“Arabella,” Arabella’s mom greeted. She came toward us with her arms out, and Bella abandoned my arms for her mothers.
Not that I minded—much. I liked watching Arabella hug her mom. Another thing that’d come a long way over the years. Diana had come around a lot quicker than Harry, and I think Arabella just wanted an ally. In that time, they talked, bridging the gap of misunderstanding between them. Now, every time they were together, Arabella was treated to the mom-hugs that had started that conversation all those years ago.
Every now and then, Diana would treat me to one too—even if she was only a decade older, it’s like a flip switched when you had a kid, and your hugs carried a whole new meaning. I loved it.
“Willem,” Harry greeted much more stoically than his wife.
“Harry.”
We nodded, not quite where we used to be, but getting there. When his silence carried on too long and began digging at Arabella, I took an overnight trip to Colorado and faced him. Letting him know how much I loved his daughter, and despite the numerous issues on paper, none of them mattered because this was forever.
I’d demanded he, at the very least, stop punishing Arabella.
Since then, we’d inched our way back to normal—it just took him a couple of hours to relax. Also, a few beers never hurt either.
“Look at you,” Diana gushed, looking Arabella up and down.
“You just saw me and took pictures already.”
“I know, but now you’re a graduate—all grown up.”
“I’ve also been all over the world—by myself in a lot of places. I think that qualifies me as an adult more than a piece of paper.”
“I know. Just humor me, okay?” her mom said, wearing that mom-look that said, cut me some slack.
Arabella sighed with an exaggerated eye-roll. “Fine.”
“So much attitude. I wonder who you could have gotten so much snark from,” her mom wondered aloud even though we all knew.
Harry held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”
We laughed, and more pictures were taken before we finally made our way to a local restaurant for dinner.
Harry loosened up a few drinks in, as predicted, and by the end of the night, we were all laughing, walking out to wait for our Uber.
“I don’t know why you didn’t just stay at our place,” Ara
bella stated.
Her father looked between us and winced, but thankfully, Diana answered for him. “We prefer the hotel. Besides, we need our privacy,” she murmured.
Arabella cringed. “Ew, Mom.”
Their Uber pulled up, and her parents were still laughing when the door closed. Ours was right behind, and by the time we pulled up to the house, my hands were sweating and shaking.
Arabella had plans—big plans—and I was worried my surprise tonight would possibly put a kink in them.
God, what if she said no.
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and opened the door.
She gasped, her hands shooting to her mouth as she took in the flickering candles and rose petals all over the foyer. She stepped over the threshold, and somehow my trembling legs followed her into the living room that mirrored the foyer décor.
“Willem,” she breathed, spinning to take it all in.
Her eyes bounced between the candles and me, a mix of excitement, love, and a hint of panic. I knew what she thought, and I just hoped she didn’t kill me when she realized it wasn’t that.
“I love your wild spirit,” I started. “I love your adventure and freedom. I love that you have plans. I love that you took the future ahead of you and twisted them to fit your plans. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I closed the gap and held her hands in mine. “I know your hotels and tickets are booked, but I was hoping I could convince you to maybe shift for me.”
She’d graduated with a bachelor’s in marketing and international affairs. But long before graduation, she’d taken every study-abroad class she could and turned her love of travel into an online agency that planned trips for others. She also stumbled upon a love of writing, and travel blogs and magazines emailed her daily.
My girl had goals, and I hoped tonight didn’t make her feel like I wanted to squash them. I just wanted to be part of them too.
But doubt crept it when her brows furrowed, and her hands tensed in mine. I slid my thumbs over the smooth skin, reassuring her.
Inhaling as far as I could, I stretched the band of nerves threatening to crush my lungs and looked her up and down. She was stunning with her dark, coppery hair illuminated by the flames, laying down her back, stark against the fitted white dress I’d done nothing but imagine pulling off. Standing there, an image of her in a much more formal white dress flashed, and one thought crossed my mind.
