The Turning Point

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX - THERE'S STILL FIRE

Heloyse

His answer hit me like needles piercing my heart. The pain spread through every part of me, so intense that my first reaction was to run away. But he wouldn't allow it. He kept holding my arm, his hand warm and firm against my skin.
"I never liked you, Heloyse. Not for a second. Not even when we first saw each other."
His eyes were fixed on mine, and my breath faltered.
"Then let me go," I asked, my voice choked, pulling my arm, but he didn't budge.
"I can't like you," his voice was deep, hoarse. "Liking is small, it's easy to measure. What I feel for you, Heloyse, can't be measured, can't be calculated. It's infinitely more than liking. I love you in a way I can't say."
My vision blurred.
"I felt much more than that. I loved you the moment my eyes landed on you."
And then, he kissed me.
Nothing in that kiss was peaceful. Like Will was, like it should be. It was like a storm that suddenly breaks, intense, impetuous, fierce. The longing we felt for each other was almost a physical pain, and we sank into it like two castaways with no hope of rescue.
There were moments when we stopped to breathe, our faces too close, our breaths uncontrolled. But we took only a moment to catch our breath, because in the next second we were suffocating again in an even more urgent kiss.
The shock of my body against the door came at the same time as his hands lifted me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, my dress went up, and a shiver ran through me as I felt the warmth of his hands on my exposed skin.
"I can't let you go," he murmured against my mouth, his voice thick and full of desire.
And I didn't want him to let me go.
There was always that smoke, that dangerous spark between us, and now, the fire was there again, ready to consume us completely. There was no resistance. There was no logic. We were bodies in combustion, as we always were.
My hands trembled as they touched his face, in desperation, as if they wanted to decorate it, absorb every contour. I kissed him wherever my lips could reach—face, jaw, neck—while he carried me to the bedroom.
I felt the mattress under my back and, in a quick and impatient movement, Will tore off his shirt. The fabric fell to the floor, forgotten, as his mouth returned to claim me.
Our hands moved in a disordered, insatiable way, exploring every piece of skin, every muscle, every curve. It was the longing we felt for each other.
He moved away just enough to unbutton the buttons of my dress. But, in the middle of the rush, his patience ran out. With a determined movement, he forced the dress open, the buttons popping and scattering across the floor.
His hot lips went down my neck, found the curve of my breasts, and my breath failed again.
I wasn't wearing a bra, because the thick fabric of the dress covered the bust area. Now, that detail made all the difference.
I arched my back when his lips captured my swollen nipple. The warmth of his mouth, the softness and strength with which he took me, made my body vibrate in an involuntary shiver. He lingered there, sucking, nibbling lightly, before moving to the other, repeating the delicious torture.
His mouth was merciless. Avid. Terribly delicious.
When he moved away, a silent protest escaped my lips. My hands went to his face, pulling him back, demanding more.
Will smiled against my skin, a mischievous and dangerous smile. He kissed my belly, leaving a trail of warmth, of urgency.
And then, he went lower.
My legs trembled when I felt his fingers pulling my panties aside, his warm breath spreading over the inside of my thighs. My heart raced violently, my whole body contracted in anticipation.
When his tongue slid closer to the point where I desired him most, my patience ran out. I moved my hips, seeking him, offering myself.
But Will was slow.
Cruelly patient.
His hands held my hips, immobilizing me, keeping me exactly where he wanted.
And I felt like I would soon overflow.
I begged for something I didn't even know what it was. Maybe to continue or to be free, but in fact, I begged. Will made me so intoxicated that I couldn't bear it.
And instead of attending to me, he just continued.
A moan of frustration escaped my lips. I grabbed the sheet tightly, feeling the desperation grow, consuming me.
I was intoxicated, floating, unable to resist.
"Please... Please, Will... I need it, now."
I was still wearing my dress, completely open, and my thigh-high stockings.
He stood up, tore off the rest of his clothes and threw them on the floor, then took off my panties and did the same, but the dress remained there. He looked at my stockings and didn't take them off.
And then, without warning, he plunged into me.
My head fell back, my body arched involuntarily, and a scream of pleasure filled the room and as if my attitude were an incentive, he moved deeper, tearing a moan even louder from me.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to that slow and tortuous onslaught, as if he wanted to prove to me that we had all the time in the world to lose ourselves in each other.
But I didn't want time.
I wanted urgency.
My skin burned with desire. My body screamed for more.
I ran my tongue over the curve below his neck, feeling the salty taste of his warm skin. The hoarse moan that escaped his lips hit me like an electric shock.
My legs tightened more around his waist, bringing him even further inside me.
He was deep.
Slow.
Cruelly slow.
My nerve endings pulsed. My muscles trembled. I could no longer distinguish where I ended and where he began.
"I need more... Please..."
I begged.
And that's what he wanted.
His eyes ignited, and then he moved faster.
Strong. With precision.
Devastating.
A trickle of sweat ran down his temple, down the side of his face. His mouth slightly open, his gaze dark and hungry... He was pure sin.
I gasped with each new thrust, and I knew I was close.
Very close.
Will grabbed my face, capturing my mouth, biting my lips violently. A guttural sound escaped his throat, and at that moment, I knew he was as close to the edge as I was.
His head fell back for a moment. The muscles in his neck tensed, and a low, lust-filled groan dragged across his lips.
He stared at me with burning eyes and, without warning, grabbed my hips and plunged deeper, quickening the pace.
Hard.
Fierce.
Primitive.
I watched him, intoxicated by the way his lips parted, how his jaw clenched, how his eyes darkened with desire. He was virile in every detail. A man made to drive any woman crazy.
My vision became blurred. My eyelids were heavy. My breathing, erratic.
My whole body tensed, arching beneath him.
"I can't take it, Lisy... Come with me!"
That voice. That hoarse, thick tone, entering my ears, was my undoing.
And then, it came.
The first wave hit me like lightning, dragging me to a nameless place.
My body trembled violently. My muscles pulsed in spasms, in a climax that consumed me from the inside out.
Will captured my mouth, swallowing all my moans, as if he wanted to take every fragment of my pleasure for himself.
Then, Will thrust a few more times, his breath heavy and uneven.
His eyes locked on mine, wild and fierce, and then he gave in.
A deep, hoarse groan tore through his throat as he reached his peak, spilling inside me.
He sighed against my neck, still trembling, before murmuring, his voice thick:
"I love you, Lisy."
And then, he dropped his weight on me, his heart pounding against mine.