3 | Everything falls into place
3 | everything falls into place
The instant William opened the front door of the building, memories of our first encounter burst into my mind. Just like then, the marble covering the floor and walls summoned a feeling of stepping into a past era, when aristocracy had been at its prime. An age-old aroma clung to the walls, and as I drew in the scent, my recollections became even more lucid and vibrant. Save for a handful of floral arrangements adorning an otherwise vacant desk, the grand lobby appeared exactly as I remembered.
‘What’s the desk for?’ I asked, trailing behind William toward the lift. My gaze roved over the surroundings, hungrily absorbing the details as I chased the memories they evoked. My pulse quickened, but the throbbing wasn’t confined to my chest this time. Instead, an anticipatory quiver originated deep within, pulsating between my thighs. I could feel my arousal mounting, the tell-tale dampness seeping into my underwear – an exact reflection of our first and only night spent in his bed.
‘The porter,’ William said as he pressed the lift button. The doors slid apart, revealing the same mirrored cage I had found myself in some months prior. As I glimpsed my reflection, I noticed my face was flushed.
‘Porter?’ An incredulous laugh escaped me. ‘Your building has got a porter?’
‘Four,’ he clarified, inputting a code to direct us to his penthouse. ‘They work in shifts. Garrick’s my favourite. He works full time, primarily during the weekdays from seven till three.’
‘I didn’t see a porter last time I was here.’
‘They work till nine. If my memory serves me right, we arrived past that.’
The doors drew shut. Watching them, I folded my arms in a futile attempt to hide my racing heartbeat. Returning here felt oddly intimidating. The last time I had found myself in this lift, I had been unsure if I would ever be back.
Stealing a glance at William, I noticed he seemed less at ease than he had been the night we met. His posture, which had been relaxed then, was now marked by a subtle tension in his shoulders, and he seemed lost in thought, staring at the floor.
‘Are you all right, Will?’ I asked, intrigued by his demeanour.
His gaze flitted to mine. ‘I’m fine, why?’
‘You just… You seem a bit nervous.’
He swivelled toward me, a lopsided smile pulling at the corners of his lips. ‘Nervous isn’t the word I’d use.’
‘Then …?’
He shrugged. ‘More like stunned.’
‘Stunned?’
‘Yes. I’ve stood in this lift countless times, yet ever since you stepped foot in it, I’ve felt your absence keenly – every morning and every evening. And now you’re here again.’ He shook his head, as if struggling to get his mind around the fact.
I took a sharp breath, genuinely surprised. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
I smiled, my heart swelling with emotion. ‘You always know what to say, don’t you?’
He leaned closer, his gaze intense. ‘With you, everything just falls into place, Cara. Even the words.’
I swallowed, my chest tingling as I held his powerful stare. ‘There you go again,’ I said, my voice almost a whisper.
Just then, a soft chime indicated our arrival. Smiling, William drew back as the doors glided apart, revealing the vestibule I had revisited so often in my dreams. His front door remained the same inviting shade of deep brown, and my heart fluttered at the sight. Had what lay beyond that door changed, or would it remain a faithful echo of my memories?
William motioned for me to proceed, still wearing a subtle smile. My pulse raced as I neared the door, a sensation that puzzled me. William and I had slept together several times since that first night, yet being here, on the threshold of where it all began, seemed to ignite the same potent excitement I had initially felt. A thick, tangible expectancy lodged itself in my chest, making even the act of breathing a conscious effort. I reached up, removing the rose resting over my ear and slipping it into my purse, anticipating that things would quickly get heated.
A palpable tension built as William reached around me to key in the door code.
‘Is your girlfriend home?’ I asked, casting him a sideways glance.
‘What?’ His hand paused on the handle as he looked at me, frowning.
My chuckle filled the silence. ‘Last time, you pulled my leg saying you were expecting your girlfriend home soon.’
Recognition sparked in his eyes, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. ‘Ah, that does sound like my sense of humour.’
‘Yeah, you’re a real charmer,’ I shot back.
Chuckling, he pushed the door open, revealing the interior of his luxurious flat. A sense of familiarity washed over me as my gaze darted around. Cream-coloured walls served as the backdrop for contemporary paintings, their bold strokes of colour contrasting sharply against the muted palette. Yet, everything was exactly as I remembered.
Straight ahead, the open-plan living area was bathed in the warm, mellow glow of an exquisite crystal chandelier, its light softened as it bounced off the dark wooden floor. Modern black leather sofas, sleek and unassuming, faced each other, divided by an ornate, low coffee table of deep brown wood. Beyond the sofas, floor-to-ceiling windows showed a breath-taking view of the London skyline, the city’s twinkling lights winking back at us.
The overall effect was one of understated elegance, a perfect blend of modern luxury with nostalgic touches of classic design. And, just as I remembered, it felt distinctly like William – sophisticated, surprising, and with a depth that demanded exploration.
I paused a few steps inside and removed my shoes, letting my eyes wander appreciatively. As I set my purse and medal down on the dark brown console table by the door, a flood of memories came rushing back. It was here, on this very floor, that remnants of my underwear had been left in the wake of our heated first encounter.
A playful grin pulled at my lips as I turned to William. ‘I just remembered something – what did you do with my knickers?’
Closing and locking the door, he replied, ‘Drenched them merely by existing.’
That wasn’t wrong.
‘Very funny. I meant after we first met. You ripped them apart, and I don’t recall seeing them again after that.’
His eyes met mine, his gaze sharp. ‘Oh, those – I kept them. They’re in my nightstand. I sniff them just before I go to bed every night. Helps me sleep.’
I gave his chest a gentle shove, rolling my eyes. ‘Stop teasing. I genuinely want to know.’
He laughed, his features gleaming with mirth. ‘Regrettably, I threw them in the bin, so if you ever want to leave your underwear behind in the future, feel free. This time, I vow to treasure it.’
I shook my head, a chuckle slipping out. ‘You’re mad.’
He shot me a look, his eyes full of affection. ‘About you, absolutely.’
Smiling, I shifted my gaze to his living area, my eyes tracing the walls. ‘Did you furnish this place yourself?’
‘No, Mum lent a hand. I’ve always been partial to her style.’ He crossed his arms, his gaze sweeping across his own flat as if taking in the familiar surroundings anew. There was a curious sense of detachment, as though he had started to overlook the details of his own home, having lived within its walls for so long that they had subtly blurred into the backdrop of his everyday life.
‘She’s got impeccable taste,’ I said, thinking of his parents’ Chelsea residence.
‘I think so, too.’ William nodded. ‘I love how she balances the classic with the contemporary.’
‘Exactly. Did she choose these paintings?’
His gaze followed my pointing finger. ‘No, we selected them together. The whole interior design was a collaborative effort.’
‘I see. How long have you lived here?’
‘Three years.’
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. ‘Not your average twenty-five-year-old’s living arrangements, is it? A central London penthouse.’ I folded my arms. ‘Nor a twenty-eight-year-old’s, for that matter…’
‘I’m privileged,’ he conceded with a nod.
Gazing around, I wondered if he owned it. ‘Do you…?’
‘Do I what?’
I hesitated, worrying my question might cross a boundary, but understanding the broad strokes of his financial situation seemed appropriate if we were considering a serious relationship. ‘This flat… Do you own it, or does it belong to your parents? Or are you renting, perhaps?’
One of his eyebrows quirked upward. ‘I own it. Why?’
‘Well, it must have been ridiculously expensive. Did John and Daphné help you out?’
‘Of course.’
‘Has Jason been treated to the same generosity?’
‘Yes.’ He seemed surprised. ‘Hasn’t he mentioned it?’
I shook my head. ‘I’ve never asked, though. And he’s always been a bit reticent when it comes to discussing finances.’
‘That’s just how we were raised. But, since you’re asking, he owns a place in Chelsea near our parents. He rents it out, though.’
‘How come?’
‘Well, Mum and Dad allow him to live rent-free in the flat you’re sharing with him in Notting Hill, but that’s only while he’s a student. They’ve always been quite adamant about the importance of education. They never wanted us juggling jobs while studying, hence the free accommodation. The income he generates from letting his own flat, he invests in a mutual fund.’
His family’s wealth had never been more apparent.
‘I see,’ I said. ‘Wise, I suppose.’
‘It’s the crux of capitalism.’ He shrugged. ‘Say what you want about it, but it makes rich people richer.’
‘That it does.’
‘Which is why I believe it’s important to give back – a sentiment my whole family shares. We’re actively involved with several charities.’ He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if suddenly self-conscious about potentially boring me. ‘Anyway, how about a glass of wine? I’m in the mood for something… intoxicating.’ His eyes, smouldering with sudden intensity, flickered down to my lips and back up again.
A sultry smile bent my mouth as I toyed with the idea. Wine? The remnants of alcohol in my system were ebbing away, and perhaps a glass might help to dispel the lingering tension between us.
‘Well,’ I stepped closer, ‘I could definitely do with something intoxicating.’
His head tilted slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement that shimmered like sunlight on a sea’s surface.
‘A Sancerre, perhaps?’
His French pronunciation sent a spark of impatience through me. I wanted more than wine. I wanted him.
‘Or,’ my fingers gripped his white T-shirt, ‘we could skip the wine?’ I tugged him toward me, and a slow, wicked smile spread across his face, making my heart flutter.
In one swift, fluid motion, he seized my hand, our fingers intertwining in a firm grip. He spun me around with unexpected urgency, pressing my back flush against the solid warmth of his torso. His free hand snaked around my waist, anchoring me securely against him. I instinctively arched into him, my spine moulding to his shape, and an involuntary gasp escaped me as I felt the undeniable hardness of his arousal pressing insistently into my lower back.
‘Impatient, Cara?’ His voice was a low murmur, a silky whisper that covered my skin in goosebumps. The warmth of his breath feathered against my ear, heightening my awareness of how close he was.
‘Yes,’ I said breathily, grinding against his erection.
Without warning, he gripped my hips and steered me forward, guiding me with a sense of intention. He led me toward a particular wall – one that held a potent memory, a loud echo of our first intimate encounter. My pulse sped up as we approached it, the air thick with the thrilling blend of past and present.
This wall, once a silent witness to our explosive chemistry, would now support our undeniable passion once again. But this time, things were different. Back then, our connection had been enigmatic. I remembered staring at him, wondering if he was the right one. Now, there was hardly a shadow of a doubt in my mind anymore.
As we stood on the precipice of repeating the past, it felt like a sacred ritual of sorts – a chance to retrace our steps with the wisdom of hindsight, to not merely relive the memory but to reclaim it. In doing so, we would acknowledge that our paths had always been destined to collide – that no matter what happened, no matter the detours, we would always find our way back to each other.
As I reached the wall, he turned me to face him. His light-blue eyes bore into mine, the intensity within them sending my heart into a frenzied beat. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed his firm body against mine, locking me between his warm strength and the solid coldness behind me. His gaze remained riveted on mine as his hands rose, cradling my head with a tenderness that stole my breath.
‘I’ve belonged to you,’ he murmured, his eyes taking a slow journey across my face, ‘since the moment you first graced this very spot.’ His voice dropped to an intimate whisper. ‘And I believe… I always will.’
I was stunned, a rush of emotion seizing my voice. My heart drummed furiously, pounding with the raw desire surging through my veins. I stared up at him, a maelstrom of thoughts whirling in my mind, yet words eluded me. I wanted to express the depth of my feelings, but my tongue was a traitor, remaining silent when I needed it most.
In the absence of words, I let my actions communicate what my voice could not. With a firm yet gentle grip on his jaw, I guided his face down to mine. Our lips met in a kiss that spoke volumes – of our shared past, our present intimacy, and the promise of a future together.
His tongue flicked across my lower lip, urging me to let him in as his fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me closer into the sweet torment of his masterful kiss. The taste, the feel, the scent of him – it was all-encompassing, and I revelled in the sensations. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sounds of our intertwined breaths and our bodies moving against each other.
I circled his neck with my arms, pressing myself tighter against him, feeling the rapid march of his heart thumping against my chest. The intensity of our kiss grew, our tongues twirling in a heated dance that ignited my veins with molten craving. It felt like I was on the brink of combustion, and the layers of fabric separating our bodies felt suddenly unbearable. Clutching his T-shirt, I yanked it upward, yearning to touch the warmth of his skin.
He obliged, stripping off his T-shirt in one swift motion. My gaze was immediately drawn to his bare torso – the ripple of muscles across his chest and the eight distinct slabs underneath it. The inviting groove that ran down the centre of his abdomen beckoned, tempting me to explore it with my tongue, to taste the salt of his skin, to venture lower and lower until my mouth encased his hard dick. I swallowed at the thought. For some reason, we had always skipped that part; he had always entered me before I got the chance to lick him. I wanted to change that – I wanted to make him come in my mouth. I wanted to taste his release, taste the pleasure I could give him.
But William didn’t let me fantasise about it for long. His hand snaked around the nape of my neck, gently tilting my head back to expose my throat to his tender kisses. He trailed his tongue along the line of my jaw, reaching the shell of my ear where he whispered in a voice thick with desire, ‘ J’aime être avec toi, et j’adore te faire l’amour. Tu es la femme de ma vie, Cara. Je n’aimerais que toi pour le restant de mes jours. ’
It was the most seductive thing I had ever heard, and my body responded instinctively – I could feel the dampness pooling, saturating my thong and seeping onto my inner thighs. I didn’t understand the words he had spoken, but the sound alone set my libido ablaze.
‘Wow,’ I breathed, barely able to articulate. ‘Please tell me what you just said was as beautiful as it sounded.’
His low chuckle washed over my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I shrank slightly at the exciting sensation.
‘It was,’ he said, his hand cupping my breast, fingers kneading the aching flesh.
I arched into his touch, inviting more. ‘And?’ My voice was barely a whisper.
He eased down the top of my dress, exposing my breasts and hardened nipples. ‘I’ll show you what it meant,’ he said, claiming my mouth with his once more, his fingers teasing the sensitive peaks.
A moan escaped me, slipping into his mouth as a sharp wave of pleasure coursed through me. I ran my hands over his broad shoulders, savouring the softness of his skin and the feel of his rippling muscles as he fondled me. His mouth trailed lower, tracing the thumping artery along my throat, then the ridge of my collarbone. I panted, raking my hands through his thick hair as his warm breath reached my peaked nipple. He flicked his forefinger across it, his eyes flitting to my face. I bit my lower lip, smiling, and arched my back further, inviting him to play some more with it.
A grin bloomed on his mouth. ‘You have no idea how much I love these,’ he said, squeezing my breasts. ‘They are perfection.’
‘You are,’ I said breathily, watching his grin widen even further, his eyes radiating affection.
Slowly, he lowered his head, letting his lips skim the hardened nipple before he engulfed it with his mouth, sucking harshly, eliciting another moan from my mouth. His warm tongue swirled around the peak, his teeth nibbling gently on it now and then, as he sank to his knees before me. Underneath the skirt of my dress, his warm hands caressed my thighs, sliding higher and higher. Reaching my thong, he hooked his fingers into it and pulled it down slowly. As soon as he had thrown it aside, his fingers were on my thighs again, gliding in and up toward my aching wetness.
My breath hitched as his thumb reached it, brushing across the sensitive lips.
‘ Cara …’ He gave me a roguish grin. ‘You’re drenched.’
A laugh bubbled up from my throat at the reminder of what he had said the last time I stood here, soaked and craving him – only this time, he addressed me as Cara, not Sandra. I didn’t recall what I had replied, but I knew what I would say this time.
‘I always am when I’m with you. And who could blame me?’ I took his angular jaw between my palms, my fingers brushing across the stubble of his cheeks.
His smile became smug as he gently prised my legs further apart, then pulled them over his shoulders, effectively seating me against the wall. ‘Let’s make you even wetter.’ His gaze shifted to my glistening lips as he leaned in, his warm breath spreading over them. My thighs tensed with anticipation. Staring at him, I watched as he swept his tongue along my slit and heard him humming with delight.
I groaned with satisfaction, my body softening against his mouth. He eased back with a grin, his lips shining with my juices.
‘Honestly, the taste of you is the ultimate aphrodisiac,’ he said, running his fingers along the sensitive flesh. Drawing closer again, he took my inner lips into his mouth and sucked on them. I gaped, my eyes shooting wide at the sheer pleasure. No one had done that to me before. The tingles travelled directly to my clit, as if the nerves were interconnected. Maybe they were.
‘Oh my God,’ I gasped.
He did it again and again, and with each time, I longed for him to enter me even more. Somehow, the attention he gave my inner lips enhanced the feeling of his absence.
I pulled at his hair, trying to make him stop. ‘I need you inside me,’ I demanded. ‘Now.’
Chuckling, he pressed a hard kiss to my clit. ‘Not yet.’
My body went rigid, the bundle of nerves craving more. ‘Please, Will.’
He shoved a finger into me.
Oh my God. It wasn’t his dick, but it was still pleasurable, and now that his finger got between his mouth and my inner lips, he had to direct his tongue elsewhere. A spasm rocked through my leg when he flicked it across my throbbing clit, amusing him.
‘You’re so sensitive.’
‘Make me come, Will,’ I whined, tugging his hair again.
‘Oh, darling. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget everything but my name.’ He sharpened his tongue, applying more pressure, while his mouth engulfed me, sucking hard. My eyes sprang wide. He was going straight for the main prize without a trace of mercy.
‘Shit!’ I clenched my teeth, every muscle of my body tensing. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held my breath as he kept sucking, his tongue tormenting me, masterfully circling and then striking across.
Nearing the edge, I pinched and tugged at my nipples, the beats of my heart furious. I started to shake, forgetting to breathe.
Then he shocked me. Withdrawing his finger, he pushed it gently in between my buttocks instead. At first, the tight hole contracted around his digit as if to deny him but, since I had experience with this, I quickly reminded myself to relax. Soon, my body welcomed the intrusion, and he began pumping his finger into me, in and out.
I cried out his name. Fuck . This felt incredible.
My toes curled, my fingers knotting in his hair.
God. I was going to explode.
‘I…’ My voice was a breathless, strangled whisper.
He must have sensed my oncoming haze, because he abruptly withdrew his finger, securing his arms tightly around my thighs instead. Meanwhile, he increased the speed and pressure of his tongue’s flicks, his mouth working my clit as if it was all he had ever done. Pleasure-induced tremors surged through me, my body teetering on the brink of glorious surrender.
Then, the tension erupted. A massive wave of release swept through me, starting from between my legs and rippling outward in shattering pulses, washing over my brain as billows of vibrant colour detonated behind my closed eyelids. It felt as if every atom of my body was being fragmented and remade, reassembled into something wholly radiant. My senses drowned in the sheer intensity, every nerve ending firing in unison as I was catapulted into a realm where nothing else mattered but this overwhelming feeling of liberation.
‘Fuck,’ I mouthed, collapsing over William.
This – giving myself to him completely – this was rapture.
This was everything .