Chapter 46 #2
My breath catches, something warm rising from my chest to my throat. I read the message twice. It’s simple. No pressure. No assumptions. Just him checking in. I sit down slowly. Despite everything else he has going on, he’s stayed present.
My fingers hover for a moment before I type.
Me: I’m okay. I hope you are too.
I set the phone face down on my desk and breathe. I can feel the difference between emotional noise and emotional clarity. And clarity feels good. It feels earned. It lets me hear my own thoughts again.
Something is shifting. Not fast. Not sweeping. Just small and true.
I’m deep in searching for ways to be more efficient with the staffing plan when I look up and find the sky sliding toward dusk.
It’s time to walk home. The day felt long, but not in the draining way I expected when I first woke up.
There was a lot to get done, but I managed.
I feel on top of things, rather than pulled in by the chaos of the weekend.
The house looks the same as it always does when I get back.
But I feel different tonight. Lighter. I walk up the path and pause on the porch.
The wood creaks under my weight, and a cold breeze brushes across my cheek.
I unlock the door and step into the soft quiet of the entryway.
I hang up my coat and move into the living room.
The blanket is still draped over the couch the way I left it this morning.
I lower myself onto the cushions, which give the way they always do, soft but supportive. I tuck my legs under me and pull the blanket across my lap.
I set my phone on the coffee table and stare at it for a moment, not because I’m waiting for a message but because I’m thinking about the one I sent earlier.
I expected to feel anxious after hitting send.
I expected the familiar tightening in my chest, the uncertainty that always used to follow anything involving Alaric.
None of that showed up.
I pick up the phone and reopen our conversation. His message still sits at the top.
Alaric: I’m good. My calendar is packed today, but you’re never far from my thoughts.
With my reply right below it.
Me: Same with me.
Simple. Honest. Without the guardedness I’ve carried for months. I want to keep moving forward. So I respond again.
Me: I just got home if you want to talk, or we can talk tomorrow.
I hit send and set the phone back on the table, flipping on the TV.
I’m watching Crave and considering my dinner options when the knock comes. It’s soft enough that I almost miss it, just a muted tap against the door.
I pull the blanket aside and stand. I walk over and rest my hand on the knob for a brief moment, letting my breath steady. Then I open the door.
Ric stands on the porch, shoulders hunched against the cold. His hands stay tucked in his pockets, and the porch light casts a faint glow across his face. His eyes lift to mine. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” I answer.
He lets out a slow breath and stays where he is. “I wasn’t sure if I should come. I didn’t want to push. I just didn’t want the night to end without seeing you.”
I ease the door open wider. “You’re not pushing.”
His expression shifts with relief, and he nods once. “I won’t stay,” he adds. “I only wanted you to know I’m here. And I meant everything I said on Saturday night.”
The cold air curls around us, mixing with the warmth of the house behind me. “I’m glad you came,” I tell him.
He gives me a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait,” I say.
I don’t explain or justify, I just step closer to him. My hand curls into the front of his coat, sliding beneath the fabric until I feel the solid heat of his chest. His breath catches as I pull him down and kiss him—sure, deliberate.
For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move. Surprise stills him, his body locked between instinct and restraint. Then his hands come up, one settling at my waist, the other sliding to the back of my neck, as if he’s afraid I might disappear if he doesn’t hold me there.
The kiss deepens, slow and consuming. Not rushed, not clumsy, stealing breath and thought alike.
His mouth is warm, sure, answering me with everything he didn’t say this weekend.
I feel it in the way he leans in, in the quiet sound he makes against my lips like he’s been holding himself together for too long.
The cold air fades. The world narrows.
I press closer, my body fitting against his in a way that feels familiar and new all at once. His grip tightens. When he pulls back to breathe, he rests his forehead against mine.
“Liz,” he murmurs.
I don’t give him space to retreat. I kiss along his jaw, feel the way his breath stutters, the way his control frays at the edges. His hands slide under my sweater, warm against my back, pulling me flush against him like he’s done pretending this isn’t exactly where he wants to be.
“I wasn’t going to stay,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I say, my mouth brushing his. “That’s why I stopped you.”
I pull him into the house, and he kisses me again, deeper this time, unguarded.
His back hits the wall, my hands in his hair, his mouth on mine like he’s finally letting himself feel everything at once.
There’s urgency now. Heat. When he lifts me, my legs wrap around his waist, and we move deeper into the house, as if him staying was never a question at all.
He carries me down the hall without breaking the kiss and nudges the bedroom door open with his shoulder, the room dim except for the spill of light from the hall behind us. He sets me down gently at the edge of the bed.
His gaze drags over low, steady again but thinner now, stretched tight with need. “Is this okay?” he asks.
I nod, fingers already working at the buttons of his coat. “It’s more than okay.”
That’s all the permission he needs.
He eases my sweater over my head, slowly enough that the brush of fabric against my skin feels deliberate.
His hands feather over my skin, and he pops the clasp on my bra.
Once it’s gone, thumbs trace my nipples as they harden to his touch.
When his mouth follows, pressing warm kisses along my collarbone, I tilt my head back.
The sound he makes is quiet, almost reverent.
He straightens just long enough to shed his jacket and shirt, like he doesn’t want distance any longer than necessary. When he comes back to me, his hands are warm, sure, slipping to my hips, guiding me back until my legs hit the mattress.
I sit, then recline as he follows, bracing himself over me. His mouth trails a slow path downward, each kiss unhurried, intentional.
When he slides my jeans free, his knuckles skim my skin, sending a shiver through me. His eyes flick up to mine, dark and intent, a question and a promise all at once.
“You still good?” he murmurs.
“Please,” I beg, pulling him back to me.
He smiles against my mouth, and any lingering hesitation disappears with the weight of him, the heat, the way his hands trace over me, as if they’ve been waiting for this moment.
“What do you want?”
“Only you.” Gasping for breath, my eyes roll back as he places his mouth directly over my nipple. He gently clamps his teeth around the sensitive flesh until my body hardens beneath his touch.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan. A strong pulse beats between my legs, and a white spark of light flashes behind my eyes. I feel ridiculously turned on, with liquid pooling in my swollen pussy.
“Mmmm,” he murmurs.
A thrill passes through my body as his tongue darts over my skin. After ensuring the other nipple isn’t left out, he migrates farther down my body.
“I need you inside me. Please,” I beg.
“So demanding,” he says, looking up at me, his tongue lazily circling my bellybutton. Hooking his thumbs inside my silk panties, he pulls them down my legs, eventually casting them aside.
“You’re incredibly sexy, Ms. Ward.” His lips drop to my bare pussy, and he inhales deeply.
“I need you,” I reply, pulling him up until we’re face to face.
I bite him softly on the shoulder and push him back into the duvet.
I caress my way down his body, over his taut stomach and down the line of downy hair that eventually disappears into bare smoothness under his boxer shorts.
Pulling his last remaining garment down and away from his body, I’m thrilled to uncover his erection.
Using the tips of my fingers, I take my time stroking up his thighs and over his balls, reveling in his sharp intake of breath as my hand moves up his thick, solid shaft.
I close my eyes and moan softly at the feel of Ric’s incredible cock, which I stroke softly with the palm of my hand.
When he places his hand on the inside of my knee, I jump. But this quickly turns to anticipation as he encourages my legs farther apart.
“I’ve dreamed of you splayed out like this in bed, and it didn’t do you any justice.” He groans as I circle my wet thumb over the engorged head of his cock.
With the lightest of touches, he runs his fingers along my inner thigh, the look on his face telling me he’s fully aware of the desperate tension he’s causing in my body.
When he reaches my swollen lips, he brushes across them before caressing the opposite thigh.
I’m panting noisily now, and my grip around him tightens.
Ric trails his fingers toward the pool of liquid between my legs. As he pushes one finger inside, I cry out. He slides his finger forward until he reaches the base of my clit. He holds his finger in place, applying exquisite pressure and allowing the tension to build.
“Fuck me.” I exhale through gritted teeth.
“Expletive or request?” he asks.
“Either…both—” I moan as Ric adds his thumb to the mix, positioning it at the top of my clit and making a small circular motion.
“What about a condom?” he asks.
I prop myself up on my elbows. “I’m on birth control, and I haven’t been with anyone except you since long before I moved to town. I’m clean.”
His expression softens, and he presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in over a year. Are you okay going without one?”
“Yes.” The word is barely out before I’m pulling him to me.
His hand fists in my hair, tipping my head back as his mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is hot and messy, tongues sliding, teeth scraping, all urgency and need. I moan into his mouth, my hips lifting on instinct, and he groans like he’s been waiting to hear that sound.
He begins to ramp up the pressure, and I can feel the early signs of an orgasm building inside my body.
“I need to feel you,” I demand.
Suddenly, his hand clamps around my wrist, preventing me from stroking him any further.
He maneuvers me on the bed, leaning over me.
As he drops his mouth to mine, I wind my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
Moving his hand between our bodies, he positions himself and pushes just slightly inside me.
Breaking our kiss, he gazes into my eyes. Without a word, he begins to slide farther into my tight, desperate, quivering body.
“Oh…my…God,” I groan as he buries himself, every wonderful ridge and curve of him feeling gloriously magnified. I close my eyes and take in the sensation.
“Look at me,” Ric orders. “I want you to keep watching.” He smiles as he continues to sink into my tight, twitching body until he’s buried to the hilt.
I take a sharp breath, aware that I’m currently being stretched wide and loving every second of it.
Rocking his hips, Ric pulls partway out before pushing himself forward once again.
I groan as my internal muscles clench around his solid mass. Once again, Ric retreats, pausing for a short time before thrusting again. I cry out, a ferociously strong orgasm building with every stroke.
“I want to see you lose control,” he breathes, partly pulling out once more, forcing me to wait for the overwhelming sensation I know is coming when he plows himself back into my body.
“You,” he says, slamming himself into me and pulling back.
“Are…so…fuck…ing…sex…y.” He thrusts his hips with each syllable muttered.
“Oh, God! Please don’t stop!’ I beg as I begin to scale the heights of my orgasm. “Please. Please.”
“You want it hard?” Ric grunts.
With a pleading groan, I nod, unable to find the words to respond.
“Hold tight, then.”
With a hand out to brace himself, he hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, opening my body wide to him.
He thrusts long and hard with a rhythm that pushes me toward the dizzy heights of my all-consuming orgasm.
Just before my release, when my body is tense and set to explode, Ric sucks his thumb into his mouth and then rolls it gently around my clit.
At the same time, he speeds up his thrusting hips until I’m launched into a noisy, violent orgasm.
As pleasure crashes through my body, Ric stays still, allowing my internal muscles to contract in waves around his rock-hard cock. Then just as I’m starting to recover, he resumes circling his thumb and rocking his hips.
“Oh, no! No!” I moan as Ric pushes my body immediately back towards a second orgasm.
Showing no mercy, he pushes me beyond the boundaries of any pleasure I’ve previously experienced. When I begin to tire, he drops his mouth to my nipples and clamps down. I roar in response, the sensation a jumpstart to my fatiguing body. A short while later, his thrusts become much less controlled.
“I’m sorry… I’m going to come…”
He groans, and I can feel a change in his thick cock within me. My body clenches even more tightly around him in response.
“Oh, God!” I shriek as he slams himself harder and harder into me and my muscles spasm into yet another orgasm. With a final thrust, Ric roars as he pumps his cum deep inside my body. We collapse onto the bed, and he drops his lips to mine and kisses me tenderly, on and on.
We’re both beyond spent and breathing raggedly. Ric pulls a blanket over us, and I spoon against his body.
“Always and forever,” I hear him mumble as I drift off to sleep.