I get home around 2pm - my mini weighed down with my stuff from France and the wedding. I'd left my car at Nicks and we'd all taken the tunnel over; Nick and I, and Tash and Greig. We'd come back the same way and I'd driven straight to Illeam Castle for the wedding. I feel like I haven't been home in months.
After parking the car in the driveway, I rummage in the boot for the gift hamper I'd brought back as a thank you to Ed and Betty for having Fred for me. I'd had Delmar make it up the day I'd gone in to settle our account.
My mind flickers briefly to Laurent, but it doesn't linger on him any longer than a few fleeting moments. Gratitude is mainly what I feel. I'm grateful for his words the night I walked him home, and strangely, I also feel grateful for the drunken 'almost' I had committed - even if it did now feel more like a dream that belonged inside another mind.
The 'almost' had been a catalyst, rerouting my mind and thoughts and heart back onto its rightful path. That night under the stifling hot summer air had shifted something inside me and helped re-order things and I had Laurent to thank for that. Disorganised piles of unmanageable things had been re-distributed, and more important things stacked in their place.
There's no answer when I press Ed and Betty's doorbell, but their car is there and when I walk around the side of the house I hear the sound of the lawnmower start up. The gate is open and I edge my way through it tentatively feeling like an intruder. Ed's head is down and focused on the loud machine working its way across the grass, but as I move further into the garden and lift my hand up to wave at him he sees me. He waves back before the obnoxious sound of the mower cuts out.
"Hi Ed," I smile as I approach. He wipes his hands on his shorts and comes toward me, smiling in that fatherly way he does.
"Alex, hello!" he says, jovially. "I knew it was today you were back but Bets was convinced it was tomorrow."
"Nope, today. I wish I was still there, though, trust me."
He nods. "And how was Robyn's wedding? Weather was great for it,"
"It was magical. She throws a wedding as well as she throws a dinner party - not that anyone was surprised by that."
He laughs softly as he comes to a stop in front of me and casts a suspicious looking eye over the twine shopping bag I'm holding. "I hope that's not for us,"
I shrug apologetically. "Unfortunately, it is," I hold it up. "It's got a tonne of cheese in it so you better hurry it inside," I gaze up at the blinding sun and Ed takes the bag from me with a sigh. "Is Betty around?" I ask, following after him as he heads for the house.
"No, she's up at the farmers market with Silvia and Jess," he tells me. Silvia was Silvia Trousdale. She lived down across from the Pig & Hen - a nice woman but with a tendency to overshare on personal details. She'd update me on her foot bunions every time our paths crossed. They were receding as far as I could recall.
Jess was Mrs Knight. A widowed old trout with the sourest expression I'd ever seen on another human. Thankfully our paths never crossed because I made sure of it. She carried a faint scent of vinegar around with her too which I always imagined was because of her diet of lemons and pickled vegetables - the cause of her expression.
"Ah so it's back then; that's good," I remark. "I picked up the most amazing cherry Jam from it last year."
"Some lovely stuff that's for sure. Pity you missed it. It'll be a back at the end of the month I'm certain." he nods, plonking the bag on the worktop with a noisy clunk. "It's heavy Alex - you need to stop this. We've told you we don't mind keeping an eye him. He's no trouble at all."
I wave my hand at him. "Oh, I know that. But's it's for all the other things you do too. The weeding and sweeping of the driveway, and the little DIY things you've helped out with. I'm hopeless at all that as you know - I'm a terrible neighbour. Call it the yearly dividend." I smile.
He shakes his head in a sort of weary acceptance as he begins unloading the items one by one, making little silent 'O's with his mouth at each one.
The red wine was just your usual French fayre, but it was sweet and light because I know they aren't fans of the fuller bodied stuff. There's half a dozen french cheeses in there too that I'd had to ask the hotel to keep in the fridge for me. Comte, Banon, and Brillat-Savarin, which I'd almost eaten my body weight in over the time I was there.
Delmas's cheese selection was to die for, though some reason, the idea of eating any more of it makes me feel slightly queasy. Clearly I'd overdone it in France.
"Can I get you a drink of something?" he offers as he stands at the open fridge. Because I don't want to just dump and run, I accept 'whatever he has that's cold' and he pours me a tall glass of cloudy lemonade with ice, which we then take back out into the garden as we make some small talk. Apparently there's no village gossip to speak which I pretend to look shocked about.
The sun really is hot today - I can't sit out here long or I'll sizzle. Shifting on my chair, I try in my head to work out a way of asking for what I came over for without sounding too blunt. Turns out its impossible.
"Ed, I was hoping I could steal those spare keys back I gave you?" I smile, lifting my glass to my mouth. The lemonade is sweet but with a refreshingly bitter aftertaste. "Just until I get another set cut that is - I'd still like you guys to have a set in case of emergencies," I add.
"Sure, they're on the hook in the kitchen. You want them now?"
I smile and nod. "Please. I stupidly gave my own set away,"
Not stupidly. Willingly. I gave Jake a set of keys to my house because I wanted him to have a foothold in my life. I had made it seem like it was about Mark, but it wasn't. It was because I wanted him to have access to every single part of me. Including my house
Ed gives me a confused smile. "You gave them away?"
"Well, not quite. I'm seeing someone, and I wanted him to have a set."
"Ahhhhh, I see," Ed nods, smiling. "No problem, gotcha, I'll go get them," he stands up and disappears back inside the house, returning a moment later to hand me my spare keys with the cat keyring on them.
"Thanks, Ed, I'll get another set cut on Tuesday when I'm back at work and bring them over."
"Sure thing Alex,"
"I'll have to introduce Jake to you both as well. You'll probably be seeing him quite a bit," I smile, feeling smug for some reason.
"Look forward to meeting him then," He nods. His smile really does remind me of my dads. His expression changes then, and his eyes go a little distant. "You look happy Alex, happier than you were when you went away that's for sure. I'm glad. Bets and I were worried about you."
From nowhere a rush of emotion washes over me. Ed and Betty had noticed too then. So heartbreak was obvious on the faces of those drowning in it.
I nod. "I am happy," I say.
I ignore the voice right at the back of my mind which niggles at my happiness. It's telling me not to forget that Jake is in mortal danger, and not to forget the perilousness of this deal that he's made. In a nasally tone, it also reminds me that I'm still delusional when it comes to my relationship with Jake.
"And you'll meet the reason why very soon." I smile, ignoring the voice almost entirely.
"Ahh, the key thief?" Ed chuckles.
"The very same."
***
The house feels different now. It's isn't the place where I lost him anymore. It's not the place I'll spend nights crying over us in different rooms anymore. Like me, it seems to have shaken off the deep depression that had been filling every nook and crannie for the last six weeks.
Six weeks ago when he walked out of here I was convinced he'd never set foot in it again. Tonight when he steps inside of it, this circle of loss will finally be closed.
After opening all the windows and unpacking my two stuffed suitcases, I go downstairs and open the back door and whistle for Fred. I really want him to see that I'm not the pile of misery I was when I left, and show him that it's safe to come back now. Much like I'd done with the house, I'd also been affecting every living thing within range with my dreary, heartbroken outlook. I rattle the bag of cat treats for almost five whole minutes to see if I can entice him home but with no success.
Later though, as I'm hanging out the second batch of wet holiday clothes on the line in the garden, I feel his warm fur wrap itself around my ankle.
The next couple of hours I spend dusting the house and washing, drying and putting away clothes. He hasn't contacted me which causes a tiny sliver of fear to worm its way around the base of my spine - and I do well to mainly ignore it. This can't become a habit. If this is going to happen then I need to trust that he can keep himself safe when he's not with me. I'll drive myself insane otherwise.
Around 6pm I decide to go for a run; all the way to the end of the village and halfway down the long country road which leads into it, and then the long way home. It's a pointless attempt to keep myself busy and expel some of the increasing sexual tension fizzing through my veins.
Like always it fails to have any effect. I think about him the entire 55 minutes. Because I was trying not to worry about him, I had instead averted my mind in another direction. I'd thought about how he looked the moment I saw him on the patio last night. The way his eyes had ignited with heat as he'd stared at me, the way his body felt as he held me in his arms last night and the way his mouth had felt as it pleasured me this morning. By the time I get home I want to tear him apart with my bare hands. I honestly don't know why I still think running helps to quell the Jake induced sexual frustration. I'm more frustrated than ever when I get home and strip out of my running clothes.
At eight pm my phone vibrates on the bedside table. My heart lifts and my body relaxes when I see it's from him.
//Baby I'm sorry. Been driving since I left you. This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would. On my way back to London now - call when I get there. Jx//
He's safe. That's all that matters. The tiny gnawing niggling voice that I'd refused to give any mind to for the last 10 hours had feared I might not hear from him at all. It was the fear that Dan knew everything and Jake had been lured back into some trap. Because Jake had lied to Mark earlier about them not knowing who was talking to the police and I still wasn't sure why.
My rational mind had of course, reasoned, that if Jake had been lying about this part, then he wouldn't have gone back to meet Dan at all. He was smarter than that and I have to have more faith in him. Again, if I don't want to go slowly insane with paranoia and fear then I have to trust he knows what he's doing and that he can navigate his way through this.
I write out the text quickly.
//I can't wait to see you. I love you. Axx//
I almost tell him to be careful but then it occurs to me that if anyone happens to see the message - though I don't know why they would - that they may wonder what I'm telling him to be careful of. So I delete that part.
I need to do something else to try and kill time. Since I made a promise to him that I would eat something, I decide to go do that even though my appetite is still noticeable by its absence. Nerves and sexual frustration are quite filling as it turns out.
I'd stopped by Waitrose on the way home to get some basics; milk, bread and the like, but I hadn't thought about dinner at all while I sped around the store in a blur. I was desperate to get home but I also wanted to keep the cheeses I'd had to have the hotel keep in their fridge for me from spoiling. Luckily I manage to rustle up a mushroom risotto from some rice and a jar of dried porcini mushrooms I have in the cupboard.
At 9:30pm I run a very hot bubble bath and soak myself in it for over an hour while I worry about him. The scenarios in my head are the product of an overactive imagination, I know this, but there is credence to them too. I should be worried about him because he is in danger. That part is real.
If these people figure out what's going on then everything becomes very very real. The magnitude and clarity of this hits me then, and why it took so long I don't know.
Jake is risking his life for me.
If anything happens to him then it will be down to me. Because I couldn't love the man he was before.
I'd never have asked him to do this if I'd truly understood what it meant. If I'd known this was what it meant. This is not simply changing for someone. This was way beyond changing for someone.
Is it too late to stop this? To tell Mark he'd changed his mind? Maybe now that Danny had suspicions Mark would understand if Jake simply walked away from his end of the deal. Is that possible?
My heart lifts with something like hope again. Except, where would that leave Jake? He couldn't just go back to being the person he was before. Dangerous illegal, life choices and illegitimate business streams. Hadn't I told him I couldn't be with a man like him, who does what he does? I still don't think I could accept those things. It's not who I am and it's not who I want him to be either.
It wouldn't stop me from loving him though - despite what I'd said that day downstairs. That much had become clear. While we were apart I'd almost destroyed myself trying to think of things Jake would need to do and have done in order to undo my love for him.
Something else occurs to me, breaking through the bleakness of my thoughts - what if this was about more than Jake changing for me? What if this was about Jake changing for himself? Maybe this thing was really about redemption for him. Maybe this was something else he needed to do.
Or maybe this is just something I needed to tell myself in order to shift some of the fear and guilt currently settled over my chest.
Dragging me out of my thoughts is the sound of my mobile, ringing loudly on the window ledge by the bath. I reach out of the water and wipe my hands on the towel before stretching across to pick it up. His name flashing on the screen makes everything seem lighter instantly.
"Hi..." I say.
"Alex baby, I'm so sorry. I'm almost done, another hour at most," He sounds exasperated and slightly out of breath. Internally I thank some higher power I don't particularly believe in for keeping him safe and for letting me hear his voice again.
"Don't apologise,"
"I know but I didn't think it would take this long, I've literally been driving all fucking day. But I just got back into London - I need to drop something off in Fulham then I'm yours."
"And here was me thinking you were already mine," I sigh.
He laughs. "What the fuck am I on about - You own my arse, think we both know that."
"It is a very delectable arse,"
"Yours is better," he says definitively.
"Charmer,"
"Wish I was there charming you in person to be honest - with my cock," he adds the last part quietly, causing me to blush and giggle at the same time.
"I do too," I whisper. "But just do what you need to do - I'm here, waiting for you," I sink back under the water slowly.
"Are you in the bath?"
"You know most nights, this is where I am. It relaxes me."
"You're stressed?" He asks.
"No, I'm sexually frustrated." I keep my voice light because he doesn't need me heaping sexually frustrated guilt on him.
He curses quietly. "Two nights in a row I've left my woman sexually frustrated. Who the fuck am I turning into?"
"Your woman?" I laugh.
"Mine," he confirms.
"God, I actually like the sound of that. Never mind you, who am I turning into?"
"Hopefully no one, I kinda think you're perfect how you are now," he replies.
Smiling deeper, I close my eyes and slide my hand between my legs and try and try to pretend it's his. It's disappointing though because my fingers are too thin and they're not attached to him. "I've really missed the sound of your voice on the phone."
"Really?"
"Mhm. It's very deep and very rough,"
"Deep and rough? Are you fucking kidding me?," he chuckles, groaning slightly.
"Mmm... frustrated are we?" I tease.
"What do you think? I haven't had sex in six fucking weeks.. Yeah.. Frustrated is one way to put it, Alex,"
Oh. He never had sex with anyone when we're were apart? That was comforting, unexpectedly comforting.
Suddenly I hear voices on his end of the phone and I open my eyes and sit up, straining my ear harder to try and hear them. For some reason I want to hear how the infamous Danny Ward sounds. Perhaps if I hear his voice then he'll be more than just this great black spectre hanging over both our lives. I can't hear anything to humanise him though, all I hear are mumbled male sounds and nothing distinguishable.
"Okay I have to go but I'll be as quick as I can baby. I promise." He says.
"Well, your woman can't wait for you to keep that promise," I smile.
"Oh, I will. And Alex? Keep it warm for me yeah?"
I giggle, "It's pretty warm right now." I tell him. I've been on fire for the last 26 bloody hours. No, I've been on fire for six weeks. I want our make-up sex and if I haven't had it by the time the sun rises then tomorrow I'm going to go wherever the hell he is and demand he fuck me.
"Yeah, your cunt is always so fucking warm," he says quietly, his voice rough and deep. My eyes close as the strongest vibration yet shudders through my whole body. "Oh, and baby one more thing..."
"Yes?" I manage.
"I love you," He says and then he's gone.
When I climb into bed half an hour later I'm not just frustrated, I'm throbbing. My skin is thrumming with need and a dull ache has settled between my thighs and deep in my belly. I play over how that would work, my going to his office and demanding sex.
Which is very well as it happens. In my mind, I play out several illicit fantasies of Jake taking me rough and hard on his desk, or against the window in his office which looks out onto the dancefloor. As he takes me he forces me to watch oblivious revellers enjoy themselves.
Oh dear god I need to make that happen regardless. The fantasy heightens my frustration to a dangerous and unknown level. So much so that I'm tempted to reach into my bedside drawer for my toy, which I haven't used in months.
Instead though, I grab my least erotic book from my bedside; the biography of Hilary Clinton which Tash gifted me in France. Just when I think I'm too frustrated to even concentrate I feel my eyes close over and so I turn out the lamp and fall asleep an instant later.
I awake to the feel of the bed dip, his presence disorientating but vivid in my half sleep state. I'm not sure how long I was sleeping or what time it is but the sleep felt deep and so it must have been a while at least. His body is warm and hard and completely naked as it settles in beside me. I'd slept naked as he demanded, and as his hands move over my body, across my stomach and breasts he moans softly in pleasure as his mouth meets the back of my neck.
He inhales deeply, pressing his tongue to my hairline before twisting my head around to kiss my mouth. His scent washes over me in soft delicious waves of comforting heat and I turn my body around so that I'm facing him. I begin to move my hands over his body as his trace over mine in soft but hungry grasps of my breasts and thighs, and around my bum. With firm hands he parts the cheeks softly as his breathing escalates and his kisses deepen.
"Hi," I murmur sleepily, as he brings his mouth to the base of my throat. In one deeply erotic move, he licks upwards to the bottom of my chin in one long movement of his tongue.
"Fuck I missed you," he growls softly. The feel of his breath and the wetness of his tongue against my lips but he doesn't kiss me. He licks at my lips, teasing delicate strokes which make me writhe beneath him. I'm moaning harder now, and I slide my arms around his neck and open my legs to let him settle between them.
The touch of his erection against my inner thigh, sheathed and ready for me makes me gasp. The thought of him stripping out of his clothes in the dark, being hard and preparing himself before climbing into my bed arouses me to a maddening degree. So does being woken like this by him. It makes his touch feel very dreamlike and very un-real.
It is real, though. He's safe and unhurt and real and he's here.
When I open my eyes and gaze up at him it's all the confirmation that I need. His beautiful face is undamaged and unburdened and he smiles softly as he looks down into my eyes.
"Sorry it took me so long to get home," He whispers.
Home. Oh, I like him saying that. I like that he thinks of my home like that. Like his home.
"You're here now," I smile as my hands travel across his stomach and upwards, brushing across the hard ridges of his pectorals. He does the same, brushing his thumbs over my nipples which are hard and aching now. Below, he pushes his erection into my thigh again, groaning softly.
"And you did what you were told and slept naked. That's my good girl," he smirks as he lowers his mouth to mine again.
He slides his tongue deep inside, messily twisting and twirling it around my own, the noises wet and sensual. I melt back into the sheets and open myself up to his mouth as he sucks and licks and bites softly at my lips. As he dips his hand between my legs, he kisses his way across my cheek to my neck again, where he nuzzles his nose against the sensitive part below my earlobe and growls softly.
"Fuck you smell so good baby - so clean..." he whispers.
His beard is rough and ticklish across the tender skin of my neck, but it only heightens the sensation across the surface of my skin as he drags his mouth across it. I feel his fingers tease my clitoris gently, stroking and teasing my body awake. I moan loud as my tummy clenches tightly, and a warm ripple of need echoes through my body from head to toe.
God, I've missed his hands on my body like this, his practised touch on my most intimate places. As he continues to sucks and bite and drag his mouth roughly across my throat and neck, it feels as though maybe he's trying to taste every inch of it.
Suddenly he stops, lifting his head up and sitting up to stare down at me. The addition of his facial hair adds something new in this light, something mysterious and more shadowy - it gives him a new and different kind of roughness which I like very much.
"Did you eat something tonight?" He asks, eyebrow raised suspiciously. Even in this light I can see the frown of concern etched across his face.
I sigh. "Jake, there's only one thing I want to eat right now and quite honestly, you're frustrating me with it." I reach forward and just manage to graze my hand across his cock before he pulls back out of my reach. "Jake please..."
A sadistic smile moves over his face and he reaches down and wraps his hand around the base of his cock, gripping himself hard. With his eyes on mine he begins moving his fist up and down, stroking himself. When a deeply pleasured groan breaks out of his throat, my thighs shudder and moisture pools below as the heat intensifies. I bite my lip hard and drop my eyes to where he's stroking himself. I'm panting quietly and he notices.
"Does this turn you on baby?" he asks.
I give him a petulant stare. "You know it does,"
"I want to hear you say it out loud,"
"Say what?" I ask innocently.
He smirks. "I'm gonna bet I'm in more pain than you, but we can play this game until the sun comes up if you want? That way when I finally sink my cock into you it will feel even better. I'm a patient guy,"
A desperate moan escapes my throat and I squirm under him, pressing my thighs together, desperate to feel something, anything, against my core.
"You're a bloody sadist,"
"And you're wet and I can feel the heat of your cunt from here," he lets his free hand dance close to my opening but stops short of actually touching me. "So hot and so wet for me," he says.
Oh my god. "Jake please," I plead.
"Answer me baby," He says.
When I ignore him and instead reach forward to try and touch him again, he moves quickly, grabbing my wrists to pin them over my head as he moves his body over mine. He manages to work his forearm over both my wrists, pressing his weight down so that he's only using one arm to hold me in position.
Then he brings his free hand down between his legs again and takes hold of his cock, before kneeing my legs open wider. When I feel him begin to stroke me with the tip my eyes widen, and a pathetic desperate moan bubbles up from my throat. He moves the tip gently and precisely across the outside of me, tracing it up and down before dipping it inside me ever so slightly. I whimper again, pleading him with my eyes and my mouth and my body but he only pins me down harder and resumes playing with me again - finger then cock, and then finger and then cock.
Why is he doing this? We need this. Why is he torturing us like this? How does he still have so much bloody control? It's been six weeks and he wants to drag it out further?
"What did you eat baby." He says, dipping inside me again.
Oh, that's what he wants to know? That's why he's doing this? What the hell did I eat tonight? Why can't I think of any foodstuffs? Why can't I think of anything beyond the heat and scent of his body, and the weight of it pressed on top of mine. Why can't I focus on anything except the delicate strokes of his cock against me.
I wrack my brain. "Risotto." I gasp, relief pouring through me. "I made risotto," His eyes narrow a little as he stares down at me, Ridiculous. The word in this context is ridiculous. The word will never sound the same again. Not now that it's been used as my safe word.
With a slight nod and a crooked smile on his face he slides two fingers all the way inside me. I moan in pleasure and relief, my body spreading open in willing readiness for him. Glorious. He feels glorious. He feels perfect.
"Did it taste good?" He asks, eyes glinting with mischief now.
Not wanting to get into another round of this torture I nod immediately. "It did,"
He nods. "Did it taste as good as this?" He removes his fingers from inside me and suddenly they're in my mouth. Sweet, warm, wet and Jake is what I taste as he pushes them against my tongue. He watches me intensely as I flick my tongue across his fingers before he slowly withdraws them.
"Well? Did it?" He smirks.
"Cooking isn't one of my skills Jake. You should probably know that about me right now," I manage.
He nods. "Yeah, well you do taste fucking amazing - pretty hard to beat that," He says before he lowers his head and kisses me hard. I feel his pressure on my arms lift a fraction. Then I feel him spread me open with hot wet fingers before he finally and deliciously slides inside me.
The moan seems to come from lower down than my throat, from my chest near my heart and it climbs up and out and passes through my lips to meet his. Though a softer hold on my wrists now he still holds me in place as he begins to move inside me, slow deep thrusts of his body into mine.
"Fuck baby," He moans as he withdraws and pushes into me again.
"Jake, oh my god.."
"I missed you so fucking much..." He breathes.
I melt deep into the sheets and into him as I hook my legs around his thighs. I pull him deeper into my body while pushing against the bond of his hands.
"Please let me touch you," I whisper. Immediately he releases my arms, and I bring them down to hold onto his face as I kiss him again. For every thrust of his body, I move my hips upwards to meet him, moaning louder with each deep perfect stroke of him inside me.
"Fuck you still feel so fucking good baby," He pants against my throat, as he places soft licks and hot kisses here. When his thrusts slow a little, he lifts his head up from my throat to stare into my eyes. "42 days," he says, his voice strained. "The last time I was inside you was 42 days ago."
"It felt like longer," I say.
So he'd been counting. To remember. While I'd been avoiding it to forget. So not all of us try to forget things it's too painful to remember.
In a strange way, even though I was without him, even though I missed him with every part of me, it always felt too like I never really lost him. Not really. It had felt as though he was fused to my core, and knitted to my soul and as though he ran through my blood.
"It felt like fucking hell," he replies.
I pull his face down to mine again and kiss him. "I missed you too," I whisper against his mouth.
He lowers his head and presses his forehead against mine as he rocks into me slowly. Deep circles of his hips, accompanied by the thick intoxicating scent of his skin which make my body loosen and open wide for him. His movements are precise. They're always so precise. Whether fast or slow, he always knows how to take me and how he wants me and how I need him. He's always known.
His breathing sounds laboured now, grunting almost, as he moves his mouth back to kiss mine. When he lifts his head and stares deep into my eyes again my heart almost stops. The look in the deep green of his eyes makes everything else disappear. His body stops moving too and all I can see is the love in his eyes and all I can feel is him throbbing inside me, filling me, healing me, his breath soft and warm on my face.
"You're everything I've ever wanted do you know that? Why'd it have to take me so fucking long to find you?" His voice disappears through a crack on the last word, and for an instant I think he might be about to cry. I smile and bring my hands up to hold his face, softly tracing the hair that covers it now.
"Because neither of us were looking in the right place." I say.
His expression softens and I move my mouth over his, kissing him tenderly. By contrast, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, growling low in his throat as he begins to move again. He slides his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down onto him as he thrust deep. It makes me cry out in pleasure as he hits the spot right inside perfectly.
My orgasm rushes up quickly then and sudden, and like always he senses it and welcomes it by quickening and deepening the movements of his own body. My mind begins to fade to warm and white as my orgasm builds, my insides transforming to liquid as the familiar tightening coils in my womb.
"Yes, Alex, fuck. That's it baby," he says as my climax takes over.
My orgasm is loud and hard as it moves through me - deep warm vibrations that make me tremble and gasp beneath him. Above me, his body clenches and stills, and then a low deep moan comes from the back of his throat as his own orgasm takes over. He's loud and hard too, and his climax moves almost violently through his body into mine.
An odd desire comes over me as I feel him come. I want to feel him empty himself inside me again like that night on the stairs. Why I don't know, but the need is deep and strong and it distracts me from the moment for a few seconds.
"I love you Jake," I whisper as he buries his face back in my neck, his hands tangled in my hair now. He groans softly in pleasure as he continues to roll his hips and empty himself into me, his strong body shuddering with his pleasure. With my legs wrapped around him and my fingers digging hard into his shoulders, I close my eyes and enjoy the delicious feel of his body as it slows and releases itself, his breathing ragged and hot against my throat.
"You're all I need Alex," he says again, a soft whisper against my skin. "You're all I fucking need."
***
I feel like waking him up and demanding more sex. I feel starved and yet deliciously full at the same time. He looks exhausted though, his body lost in a deep relaxed sleep and that stops me crawling over him and waking him up - for now.
He's flat on his back, one arm draped lazily across his stomach, the other resting by his side. How can he sleep so deeply knowing the things he knows? His face, turned toward me, is a picture of complete calm and relaxation. I don't want to wake him but as always my fingers ache to touch him.
Reaching across, I trace my hand over his face and beard gently, then down to his chest moving my fingers across the black shapes that I can't quite make out in the darkness of the room. But you don't need to see the things you know by heart. The abstract art on his upper arms which crawl across his chest, the haunting, beautifully drawn masks on the other side, and the roman numerals and lettering across his abdominals representing his son.
His words from earlier echo through my mind. He was everything I needed too. Nothing would convince me otherwise. How on earth had I managed to find him?
How on earth had I ever thought I could live without him?
There had been a time once, when I'd thought that who he was and what he'd done meant that I couldn't be with him. That I couldn't love him. Now they'd become the reasons why I loved him. There was only blissful quiet and solid certainty in my head now when I thought about being with him.
He's everything my heart never knew it wanted. From the moment I set eyes on him I knew that. I wanted him. I wanted the darkness that seemed to hide just beneath the surface. I craved it. I'd quickly become addicted to it. But at the same time, I wanted to learn how to tame it.
And yet, for all his darkness and his secrets, he had always projected his feelings for me right out in the open. He'd never hidden that from me. It was the one truth that should have told me all I needed to know. It was written over his face and in his eyes. It was in the way he touched me and looked at me.
I'd never been looked at in the way he looked at me. As though I were some prize to be won and cherished. That's how he saw me.
Except, he was the prize. He was my prize as I was his - we were in this together now.
I'm terrified of what might happen now, but I also feel strong and hopeful too. That was his doing. He made me stronger, and I would be stronger because that's what he needed me to be.
I'd never let him down again.
In the softest whisper I can manage, as I rest my hand flat on the warmth of his chest over his heart, I make him the same promise he made me.
"I'll never lose you again. I'll do whatever I need to do so that I never have to lose you again."