The Turning Point

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO - INFLAMMABLE

Heloyse

"Your grandfather's attitude... Wallace's, was beautiful."
"At first, everything was so difficult. To relate, to understand everything."
Will let go of my hand and went to the kitchen.
In a few moments, he returned with two delicate glasses and a bottle of wine.
After serving, we stayed there, in silence, each holding their glass. Time seemed to stretch as I processed every word he had said.
Pain spread inside me as I realized that, at that very moment, there were children living the same nightmare Will lived in his childhood. Children who, like him, grew up marked by the invisible scars of deep trauma. How many adults, like him, carried that weight for so long?
My God, how could I complain so much about my life? I had a happy childhood, surrounded by love. My parents and Marcus left knowing how much I loved them.
But with Will, it was different. His pain was brutal, immense, and I just wanted to be able to alleviate it somehow.
I loved him. I loved him in a way that I couldn't hide, that I couldn't deny anymore. And, at the same time, the pain he felt tore me apart. How I wished I could erase that pain.
"I understand. Unfortunately, an abusive relationship doesn't just affect the couple. Everyone around them, everyone who cares, suffers too."
"My mother cried every night... I never understood why she didn't leave. I knew she was afraid, that she was alone and that she feared she wouldn't be able to support me. But if she had tried... Maybe we would be together now, and I wouldn't be like this, so bitter."
I took his hand and gently ran my fingers over his skin as he stared at the fire in the fireplace.
"I'm afraid of being like him. I don't know how to be in a relationship... I never knew. What if I'm like him? Who can guarantee I'm not?"
"Just the fact that you loved your mother so much, with such purity, makes you completely different from him."
He nodded, the pain still visible in his eyes.
"Tell me about you, sunshine."
And I spoke.
I opened my heart, told him about the plans I made for the future, about the pain of losing my family and the relationship with Michael. I spoke of the lonely days and how I ended up in Clearwater.
Will listened attentively to every word, his eyes fixed on me. From time to time, he squeezed my hand with a gentle gesture, as if to say, "I'm so sorry." The hours passed, and there, as we shared our stories, we became closer in a way we never imagined. I never felt such a desire to talk about my life as at that moment. And he, too, seemed to be surrendering to something new, something he had not yet experienced.
"Do you still love him?"
His question caught me by surprise.
"No. Not anymore."
Will looked down, staring at the flame in the fireplace. Then, he filled his glass with more wine and took a short sip, carefully placing it on the floor, off the rug.
"Want another glass of wine?"
"Yes," I replied. "Don't you mind drinking, even after everything that happened?"
"I know how to drink socially. Many people use alcohol as an excuse to reveal what they really are. There are alcoholics who, despite everything, are good, and there are those who try to hide their true natures behind a bottle."
After serving me, Will took a sip of wine. I watched him, noticing how he controlled his breathing, his abdomen rising and falling calmly. He noticed my gaze.
"This wine is great. Is it from your cellar?" I asked, trying to divert the focus from the tension in the air.
He didn't answer about the wine.
"I talked to Mary."
I downed the wine in my glass, feeling an urgent need to forget that moment, to dilute my own emotions.
"I ended what she thought existed between us."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." I repeated in my mind, like a silent mantra.
Will, still sitting, moved closer to me. His hands gently touched my face, and a shiver ran through my skin as I felt his touch.
"I want to be with you every moment, from the moment I saw you. From the moment I wake up to the last second before I sleep. You are in everything I see, in all my thoughts."
Will approached slowly, his lips almost touching mine. When they met, a small moan escaped my lips, a mixture of desire and vulnerability.
"Will?" I interrupted, my voice trembling.
"What is it?"
"You feel the same as I do, don't you?" I asked, taking his hand and placing it between my breasts. "You make my heart race in a way I never imagined."
Will didn't answer me. Instead, he started a slow kiss. But it wasn't like the others. This kiss was different, loaded with something deep, something he didn't yet dare to name. His mouth molded mine with patience, as if he wanted to memorize every contour, every texture, every broken sigh.
I lay down on the rug and he followed me, his firm body pressing against mine. The warmth of the fireplace mixed with the heat that was born inside me. I felt his rigid abdomen press against my belly, his warm breath brush my skin. His scent, woody and masculine, filled me like an intoxicating spell.
Desire grew and consumed us like a voracious storm. His hands ran over my skin, claiming territory, leaving fiery trails where they passed. His mouth found my neck and remained there, distributing kisses and small bites that tore muffled moans from me.
Urgency overflowed, but still, he held control. As if he wanted to prolong the moment to the fullest, as if he needed to feel every nuance before getting completely lost.
When our moans became desperate requests, Will interrupted the kiss and let out a long sigh.
"What's wrong?" my voice came out trembling, loaded with expectation and contained desire.
He closed his eyes, fighting an internal war that I didn't understand. When he opened them again, his gaze was a battlefield-raw, intense, vulnerable.
"I didn't know it was like this... I never knew..." his voice faltered. He took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. "But now, I know what it's like to have a racing heart. I know why..."
I waited, anxious for what would come next. But the words I wanted to hear never came.
Disappointment hit me like a cold blade, even though I tried to ignore it. But when his lips took mine again, any doubt dissipated. Because I felt, in the way he touched me, in the silent despair of his kiss, that he loved me-even if he didn't know how to say it.
Our clothes were abandoned between whispers and caresses, and finally, there were no more barriers between us. We were just skin and desire, souls as naked as our bodies.
Will ran his hands over my face, his eyes scanning every feature as if he wanted to record everything in his memory. Then, he murmured against my lips:
"I'm so cold... But when I'm inside you, I warm up. You warm everything in me, Heloyse."
His words ignited something in my chest, a flame impossible to contain.
He kissed my chin, going down my neck, his hands exploring every curve of my body. A hungry, reverent, possessive touch. As if I were something precious and, at the same time, dangerous-something he couldn't lose, but also didn't know how to keep.
His lips traced a path over my body, exploring with avidity and lust. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to ignite me, how to make me lose my sanity.
"Will..." I murmured, my voice choked with growing pleasure.
"Let me love you..." he whispered, and my heart contracted.
LOVE?
Did he realize what he said?
Before I could question him, I lost myself in the touch of his tongue, in the waves of heat that ran through my skin.
I closed my eyes and arched my back as his mouth descended and his tongue circled my navel, descending a little more. His mouth moved with avidity, desire, lust. And when he approached my thighs, the warm air of his breath made waves of heat run through my entire body.
He touched me there, as fire touches a candle, sweeping away my sanity, turning it to ashes.
Will was an avid lover. He knew how to extract moans from a woman, with mastery.
His tongue worked around that sensitive button, over and over again. I pulled him back because I needed him inside me. That's how it should be.
When he returned to my lips, he kissed me forcefully, desperately.
I was ready for him. Ready to be his.
"Please..." I begged, my voice full of need.
He claimed me with devastating slowness, his eyes locked on mine, as if he wanted to see every reaction, every raw emotion that overflowed on my face.
"Do you feel how damn good this is?" his voice was hoarse, full of lust.
Yes. God, yes.
I felt like I was traveling among stars and constellations, lost in a universe that belonged only to us.
Drops of sweat formed on his forehead, running down his face, tracing paths on his tanned skin.
Suddenly, he moved away. Before I could protest, he turned me with an agile movement, making me gasp.
Now, I felt his solid abdomen pressed against my back.
Will took two pillows from the couch and placed them under my belly. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling my head back, his hips aligning with mine.
When he thrust, a wave of pleasure went through me like lightning.
I closed my eyes and let out a trembling moan. Will was a big man, in every way, and I felt every inch of him.
I moved, trying to incite him to continue, but he just smiled against my skin.
"Don't rush, darling..." he whispered. "I intend to do this all night."
His voice was a caress of pure torture.
I squirmed when his voice made a good feeling run through my intimate parts.
I pressed against him and frustration took over when what I wanted most was his lips, but I didn't have them. I felt his tongue run down my neck as he pressed against me. I squeezed the edge of the rug as hard as I could.
I turned my head to the side and then his mouth sought mine. A rough kiss. Rough and deep. That's how he kissed me. I was intoxicated with pleasure and we had barely started.
Now I understand why women threw themselves at his feet. Will knew what he was doing. He was trained in this area.
An excellent professional.
He was primal. Wild. Unstoppable.
"Move with me, Lisy!"
I obeyed.
The solid skin of his abdomen rose and fell, igniting me, setting me on fire. Not even the fire of the fireplace could burn us like that. We were embers on wood. Our skins, when they touched, were fuel.
Flammable skins.
One of his hands was resting on the rug, supporting his body, the other pulled my hair, making me press closer to him. That's how he dominated me.
"Tell me, darling... how to stop this between us?"
"I... don't know..." my voice came out weak, interspersed with overwhelming pleasure.
"There's no way, Heloyse," he murmured, his warm breath against my skin. "This will never stop. Because that's how it has to be."
He moved faster, deeper, until my body fell apart into a million fragments beneath him.
I screamed. I screamed because of him.
Will groaned, threw his head back as he thrust deeply. He moved a few more times and then, I felt his body convulse, on top of me.
He withdrew from inside me and turned me over, his eyes seeking mine.
Panting, he buried his face in my neck, distributing soft kisses, as if trying to calm the fire he himself had provoked.
With his hands still on the rug so as not to hurt me with his weight, Will placed his head on my neck. He placed kisses there, and just the fact that his warm breath touched my skin, the embers began to ignite.
He withdrew, threw the pillows away, and turned me over.
"You're preventing pregnancy, right? Not that we have any disease... I'm talking about pregnancy. If you want, I can use a condom next time."
"I am..." I lied.
After our first time, I was so worried about everything that was happening that I forgot to buy pills. Anyway, I preferred not to say.
Will certainly didn't want children and we were a mess. We didn't even have an official relationship.
Well, I didn't care. I would have a part of him inside me, if necessary. I would carry him and bring that part of him into my life. I didn't care about the consequences.
He smiled, relieved, and kissed me.
"Then, I guess I don't need to say that the night will be long, will I, missy?"
"I don't doubt it."
And so, Will loved me again.