I was partially dressed and blow drying my hair when Stefan stepped into the bedroom with a towel around his waist having just showered himself. He kissed my shoulder as he passed to take a clean shirt from the wardrobe.
“Alec asked me to say hi,” he said.
“How is he?”
“Good, probably partying all week.” Stefan chuckled at the thought.
It was nice that he’d spoken about me to his children. I made a plan that I would do the same. Not that I was sure how our ‘relationship’ was going to work, but I wanted to be open to everyone.
His stomach muscles flexed as he shrugged on the shirt, his biceps bulged as he bent his arms to do the buttons. The tight pants he wore showed off his glorious backside.
“Checking me out?” he asked, catching me staring at him.
“Always.”
He came to stand behind me as I sat at the dressing table. He reached over my shoulder and slid his hand inside the cup of my bra. My nipple instantly hardened.
“Yep, thought so,” he said with a wink.
“You are so conceited.” I laughed as he retracted his hand.
“Ah, but you love me anyway.”
I stilled at his words; he stilled at his words. I watched him watching me in the mirror. He leant down to kiss my neck.
“Jeg elsker dig,” he whispered and then he walked away.
I hadn’t understood what he’d said. I’d heard him say it the previous evening when we’d made love in front of the fire and it had slipped my mind to ask for a translation.
I finished my hair, applied my make-up all the while thinking. I loved him, there was no doubt about that; I’d loved him for a while. I needed to understand what was happening between us, and I needed to make our relationship public.
I chose the black dress and slipped the red silk scarf around my neck to hide my cleavage. I grabbed my shoes from under the dresser and made my way downstairs.
I heard Stefan wolf-whistle as I walked into the kitchen. He had fed Dini and was standing by the back door waiting for him to return.
“Oh, stop it,” I said.
“You look sexy as fuck.”
I laughed. I grabbed my bag and the car keys. I had opted to drive since Stefan had been driving all day. We locked up the cottage and headed for the restaurant.
We were seated immediately, the restaurant was only half full and judging by the accents I heard, I assumed most were locals. The lighting was low and a candle burned in the centre of each wooden table. As a beach café in the evenings, Life’s A Beach was unrecognisable from its daytime job.
Menus were placed in front of us and I noticed the waitress focussing her attention on Stefan. He was a good-looking man. Those piercing blue eyes mesmerised, his messy blond hair looked like he’d just got out of bed and his athletic fit body attracted women. I think I fell a little more in love with him when he took my hand in his across the table.
“Baby, what do you want to eat?” he said in a seductive voice.
I placed my order and without looking at the waitress, he told her what he wanted and she left.
He made no mention of the salivating waitress, perhaps he hadn’t noticed. His attention was focused on me. He ran his thumb across my knuckles as he stared at me. I watched as he slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip.
“I have a plan for that scarf later,” he whispered.
I frowned, my hand instinctively played with the silk material. His gaze was intense and I wanted to draw my eyes from his but found it impossible. The chatter of patrons, the smells of cooking all seemed to disappear. In their place was just him. A cough interrupted us; he sat back in his chair and slowly looked up to the waitress who was holding the wine.
“Do you want to taste it?” she asked.
“Always.” Stefan slid his glass towards her but kept his lust filled eyes on me.
Her hands shook a little as she poured. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her he had the same effect on me, and I stifled a giggle at the thought.
I watched as he swirled the wine, slowly sipped before, again, running his tongue over his lip. It was a display of pure sexual teasing. He nodded and she poured two glasses.
When she left he raised his glass to me. “To us,” he said.
I clinked my glass against his before taking a sip of the rich red wine.
Our meals were placed on the table and our chat returned to safe ground. Until I watched him use his fingers to peel a prawn that he then held out to me.
“Taste,” he said.
I reached forward with my fork. He shook his head. I leaned slightly across the table and opened my lips. He placed the prawn in my mouth, leaving his fingers resting on my tongue a little too long. As I closed my lips, he slowly pulled them out.
“Mmm, that was nice,” I said. I could play his game.
We never made it to dessert. Stefan asked for the bill and without taking his eyes from mine, he laid his credit card on the small leather folder when it arrived. Once he had paid, he took my hand and led me from the restaurant. As we reached the car, thankfully parked in the darkest corner of the car park, he pushed me against the door.
“Feel what you do to me,” he said as he took my hand and placed it over his cock.
I gently squeezed the bulge straining against the front of his jeans. He pressed his body against mine, trapping my hand. With two hands on either side of my face, he kissed me. It was a kiss filled with desperation, with longing, and one that left me breathless.
A sweep of light across the car park startled me. A car was approaching. I giggled as Stefan took a step back. I saw him take a deep breath before he reached around me to open my door.
As I drove he ran his hand up my thigh. I lifted slightly off the seat so my dress would rise with his touch until it was nearly around my waist. When his fingers trailed over my knickers, I pushed my foot harder on the accelerator.
“I’m going to drive into that bush if you keep doing that,” I said, my voice rose on each word.
“I’m going to drive my fingers into that…”
“Oh no, don’t tell me that. Not now.”
His laughter had a wicked edge to it. Somehow, we made it back. I fumbled with my seat belt to release myself from the car, and then fumbled some more trying to find the cottage keys in my bag. He took them from me and unlocked the door. I hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps into the hallway before he grabbed my waist and pushed me roughly against the wall.
His mouth crashed down on mine, his hands ran up my thighs, dragging my dress to my waist, and I heard the rip of lace as he tore the knickers from my body. My stomach knotted at the sound and my body shook.
I grabbed the top of his jeans, desperate to get them undone, and as they fell I released his cock from his pants. He groaned as he lifted first one thigh and then the other. His body held me against the wall as I wrapped my legs around his waist. Without a word he pushed into me. I placed my arms around his neck and held on.
My back scraped against the stone wall as he fucked me. His head was in the crook of my neck and he said those words, over and over.
“Jeg elsker dig.”
I cried out as my stomach convulsed, as my body became a mass of static and as heat coursed over my skin. My orgasm hit me hard and fast. I gasped for breath, and my fingers dug into his back.
I saw him throw back his head, his jaw was clenched and he cried out through gritted teeth as he came.
“Fuck,” he said.
My legs had started to quiver. I let my forehead fall to his shoulder and felt the sting across my shoulder blades from the bare brick they had been rubbing against.
He slowly released my legs but kept hold of my waist. I was thankful; I didn’t think they would hold me up. When he finally looked at me, he smiled as he bit down on his lower lip.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Before I could reply, he stepped out of his jeans, readjusted his cock back in his pants and scooped me up. I laughed
as he carried me up the stairs.
“Do you remember your fantasy?” he whispered.
The bedroom was dark but the sky outside clear. The moon lit the room as he placed me in front of the full-length mirror that stood in one corner.
He moved behind me, unzipped my dress, and it pooled around my feet. He reached around and gently untied the scarf, sliding it slowly from my neck. I stood in just my bra, watching as he lifted the scarf and placed it over my eyes. He tied it at the back of my head.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
I felt him unclasp my bra and slide the straps from my shoulders. I felt his hot breath and his soft lips as they trailed down my back. I gasped as his tongue circled over my arse.
“Kneel down,” he said. I complied; my legs were struggling to hold me up.
“Part your legs,” he whispered.
I felt him kneel behind me, his already hard cock rested against my arse.
“Touch yourself,” he said. I hesitated. “Don’t think about it, just picture in your mind what I do to you.”
My hand shook as I tentatively placed my fingers just above my clitoris. I leant back into him. His arms snaked around my chest, each hand cupping a breast and I could feel his breath on my neck as he looked over my shoulder.
My heart hammered as I slowly touched. The wetness surprised me.
“That’s me, my come. Now spread it,” he said. His voice was so quiet I strained to hear.
The stickiness coated my fingers as I explored myself. My flesh burned at my touch. When I ran the tip of my fingers over my clitoris it was as if an electrical current had shot through me. I moaned.
“Fuck yourself.”
I pushed two fingers inside me. I was wet, very wet, and hot.
“I want my tongue in you, I want to taste you and drink in your come. Can you feel my tongue?” In my mind I could see and feel him. I nodded.
“And then I’m going to slam my cock inside you so hard you’ll feel it here.” He placed his hand on my lower stomach.
“You’ll feel me fuck you hard because I can’t get deep enough, I can’t get fast enough. I can’t get enough of you.”
His voice was raspy, his breathing accelerated.
“I can never get enough of you,” he whispered.
I moaned. I struggled to breathe as my fingers moved faster at his words and at the images I had in my head.
“Now watch,” he said. He whipped the scarf from my face and my jaw fell open in shock.
I didn’t recognise the person in front of me, the reflection in the mirror wasn’t mine. My eyes were hooded; the normally brilliant green was dark as my pupils dilated. My hair was a mess, a sexy mess. My nipples were so hard the skin around them had puckered, but it was my fingers I watched. They stroked, they teased, they were coated in juices, white sticky come.
Stefan moved slightly to one side. I watched as he gripped his cock with one hand and the other wrapped in my hair. I stared with total fascination as he pleasured himself. His hand slid effortlessly up his cock, his thumb ran over the tip before lowering. Unconsciously I matched his speed. The faster he stroked, the faster I fucked myself. I’d never seen a man masturbate before, never seen the emotions that crossed his face, or the vein that bulged on his bicep and forehead as he gritted his teeth.
“I need to be inside you,” he growled.
He moved behind me, pushing my shoulder blades so I fell forwards onto my palms. Before I had a chance to take a breath he pushed into me so hard I jolted forward and my knees slid on the carpet. He gripped my hair and raised my head.
“Watch us,” he said, his voice was harsh.
I watched. I watched him kneeling behind me, I watched him pound in and out while I was on all fours. I watched him pull my hair to keep my head up, and he watched me.
Sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped onto my arse. I dug my fingers into the carpet as pure carnal desire washed over me. I forced myself back onto every thrust he gave, needing him deeper. I screamed out his name as I watched his come drip down my inner thigh.
My vision blurred, a noise filled my head, just white noise. A pulse throbbed in my neck as blood pumped hard around my body. I wanted to tear at his skin, I wanted to bite and kiss and taste. I lowered to my elbows as my arms shook, loving the tighter pulls on my hair, and then I came. A freight train hit me right at my core. I couldn’t control the muscle contractions and I had no desire to. Stefan collapsed on top of me, his shaking arms landed either side of my head. He rested his forehead on my back, and as my legs gave out and I slid to the floor, he lay on top of me.
I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t catch my breath but I cried. Sobs wracked my body. Stefan rolled to one side and cradled me to his chest. We were a mess of sweat that had started to chill on our bodies, of come that had started to dry on our skin.
“Tell me. Please, tell me,” he said. When I looked at him, tears had formed in his eyes.
“Jeg elsker dig,” I whispered.
I’d known what that meant without the need for a translation. I love you.
He closed his eyes. As he rested his back against the bed and pulled me into his lap, tears rolled down his face.
“I can’t let go of you,” he said.
“Don’t ever let go of me,” I whispered.
My body was stiff and cold when I opened my eyes. It couldn’t have been more than an hour that had passed.
I had to move, my legs were cramping. I slowly stood and held out my hands to help him. He pulled me to his chest and kissed the top of my head.
“I need to shower,” I said.
“How disgusting would you think I was if I told you I loved the smell of us on your skin?”
“Oh…I might have to think on that one.”
He laughed as he took my hand and we walked to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and led me in. I stood as he poured gel onto the sponge and ran it over my body. He washed me, and in return, I washed him.
Wrapped in towels, we headed back to the bedroom. I dried my body and my hair as best as I could before climbing under the duvet.
“I’ll let Dini out then be back up,” he said. He strode with his towel around his waist from the room.
I lay thinking on what had happened. There had always been a connection but something had changed. Our souls had merged, we’d become one. I tried to fight the heaviness in my eyelids, tried to stay awake. I felt the bed dip as he climbed in and wrapped his arms around me. I heard him whisper that he loved me. I think I said it back. I know it ran through my mind over and over.
I woke with a start, the room was dark and I lay still, listening. A few seconds later I heard it again—a knocking on wood.
“Stefan, wake up,” I said.
I climbed from the bed and grabbed my dressing gown. I wrapped it around me as I walked from the bedroom.
“Wait. Don’t go down, stay here,” I heard but was already half way down the stairs.
I heard him curse and stumble across the floor above me. Urgent, rapid knocking came from the front door. I reached out to open it as Stefan bounded down the stairs. I had the door open as he reached the last step.
Carla stood under the porch light and as I looked at her, I knew.
I don’t know when, but I know I had taken a step back. I know I had fallen to my knees, but what I couldn’t figure out was where the noise was coming from. The sound was like an animal being tortured, being mutilated. It echoed around the room, and I searched frantically for its origins. I felt arms around me but I fought. I needed to save the animal; maybe it was Dini. It was only when I had no breath left that I realised the sound had come from within me.
I stilled, confused. My eyes wouldn’t focus. I knew Stefan had knelt in front of me; I could feel his chest under my fingers. I could also feel stickiness. I brought my fingers close to my eyes and saw blood. Who’s blood was on my fingers?
I looked up, and as my vision came into focus, I saw Carla. Her hands covered her mouth and she sob
bed. Why was she here? Why was she crying?
And then I remembered her words. I opened my mouth and screamed again.
My world dissolved, imploded. Pain ripped over me like a knife through soft butter. I hurt like I’d never hurt before. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked, trying to lessen the pain, trying to stop the words I’d heard from rushing around my brain. I wanted to sing—loudly—to drown out those words. But no matter how loudly I screamed, and I think that was in my head, those words were still there.
My son was dead.
I was sat on the sofa; I had no recollection of getting there. Stefan was kneeling in front of me and was lifting a foot to place it in the leg of my jeans.
“Why are you dressing me?” I asked, my voice was hoarse.
“We need to go,” I heard.
Carla had sat beside me. She took one of my hands in hers.
“Go where?”
“We need to go home,” she said.
I watched her look towards Stefan, and when I followed her gaze I saw the gouges down his chest. I held my fingers to them. I had done that.
“Baby, look at me. Can you hear me?” he said.
I looked up into his eyes. “Yes,” I said.
“Carla will take you home. I’ll pack up here and bring your car back to you, okay?”
“Pack up,” I said with a nod.
He held my hands and pulled me to my feet. I felt him raise my jeans to my waist and then a sweater was placed over my head. I sat back down on the sofa and Stefan and Carla talked, they made plans but I wasn’t interested.
I didn’t care about my things. I just wanted to get my dog and go. I wanted to see that it was a terrible mistake. It wasn’t my son, it was someone else’s. I would laugh and then feel terrible guilt when I told them they had it wrong.
Ben would come rushing home and I’d hold him in my arms, maybe cry with relief.
I stood and strode to the front door. I heard my name being called. Stefan wrapped me in his arms.
“I’ll be there as quick as I can, okay?” he said. I couldn’t answer, I just nodded.
A Virtual Affair Page 20
