Surrounded by piles of bridal photos and magazines, you sat at the dining room table, completely overwhelmed. You’d been looking at gowns of all styles, shapes, and colors for hours – mermaid and A-line, ivory and blush; there were simply too many options. This was usually when Thomas would swoop in, remarking how much he liked one of the options, and the decision was made. But you wanted the dress to be a surprise.
Surrounded by piles of bridal photos and magazines, you sat at the dining room table, completely overwhelmed. You’d been looking at gowns of all styles, shapes, and colors for hours – mermaid and A-line, ivory and blush; there were simply too many options. This was usually when Thomas would swoop in, remarking how much he liked one of the options, and the decision was made. But you wanted the dress to be a surprise.
“Because this is the last wedding gown I’m ever going to wear, Mr. Hiddleston,” you said to the empty room. Suddenly remembering you had a lunch date with your
fiancé, you looked down at your diamond encrusted watch to see that you were late. “Oh, shit.”
You dumped a few magazines into your oversized bag, slipping into a pair of matching Louboutin pumps. Heading out the door, you sent a text to Thomas as the elevator carried you downstairs.
{On my way!! Distracted by a pile of gowns.}
{I’m sure whatever you choose will look lovely on the floor of our honeymoon suite.}
You arrived at Thomas’s office, strutting through the door. As soon as you realized the reception area was completely empty, an idea occurred to you. You unbuttoned your silk top, baring your black lace bra. With your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath in as you pushed the door wide open, striking a pose in the door frame.
“Hello, lover.”
It was only then that you noticed Thomas’s assistant sitting across the desk from him, getting redder by the second. You rushed to close your top as Thomas tried to hide his laughter.
“Are you speaking to me or Miss Trevor?” he spoke between giggles.
“Thomas, really!” you said as his assistant tried to squeeze past you in the doorway, desperate to leave the room. “Please don’t go. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, really! We were finished,” she said, closing the door in a hurry.
You turn to Thomas, whose head was still in his hands, trying to hide his laughter. “It’s not funny!”
“On the contrary, my love. You always make an impression,” he said, finally composing himself enough to stand and pull out a chair for you. “Actually, it was probably good that this happened.”
You couldn’t possibly fathom how anything even remotely positive could come from your own embarrassment. “Care to explain?”
“Well, Clara has always been a bit frightened of you.” A puzzled look fell over your face. “My assistant…” Thomas added. “You’ve been here how many times and you don’t even know her name?”
“Well! She’s so quiet. She practically runs away every time I’m here,” you said, motioning to what just happened in the doorway.
“Maybe she didn’t like your bra,” Thomas teased. “You know, she could probably help us out with some wedding planning. She’s truly remarkable when it comes to research. I could tell her what we’re looking for in a venue, and she could find it within the hour.”
“Really?” Your interest was piqued. Everything had been going to smoothly until you and Thomas started looking for a venue. It didn’t help that you weren’t exactly sure what you even wanted. “Do you think she would?”
“I don’t see why not. You don’t want to hire a wedding planner, so maybe this could be a solution. Just a little help when necessary.”
“I told you, Thomas, I’m not handing our day over to anyone. It’s what I’ve always done in the past, but I want to be more involved this time.” You weren’t a superstitious woman, but if three weddings coordinated by event planners had ended in divorce, you were willing to do the work yourself if it meant you and Thomas could live happily ever after. “I have to admit, I could use the help, though.”
“Why don’t you go to lunch together? I have some briefings to catch up on before my appointments this afternoon anyway. Get to know each other, talk about the wedding, see how it goes,” he said, reaching into his wallet.
“But I was looking forward to lunch with you,” you said, taking the credit card from Thomas’s grasp as you sat down on his lap. You took his curls between your fingers, expressing your displeasure with a firm tug.
“You better go before I have you right here on my desk,” said Thomas.
“Yes, sir,” you whispered into his ear before setting off for the door. Looking back, you saw Thomas licking his lips, watching your every move. You strolled to the door, swaying your hips along the way. With a wink and a kiss, you were gone.
You sat on your balcony, sipping a glass of merlot as you waited for Thomas to come home. You knew when you left that you’d be in for an interesting night – you had seen that look in his eyes only once before. It had been the start of your longest, most passionate sex to date. Just thinking about it got your heart racing.
{There in 5. Wait for me in the bedroom.}
You tipped your wine glass back as you walked into the apartment. You left the empty glass on the dining room table and undressed, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the bed. You sat stark naked on the bed as you heard Thomas’s keys in the door. After what felt like an eternity, Thomas sauntered into the bedroom, a glass of ice water in his hand. He placed it on the nightstand before he finally spoke.
“Would you like to try something new tonight?” he asked.
“Of course,” you replied. In the time you’ve been together, Thomas has introduced you to a great number of things you’d never tried before. Indian food. Ice skating. Vibrating panties. The look in his eyes told you this was not the night to be timid.
Never breaking eye contact, Thomas slowly undid his tie. The room was silent save for the faint sound of fabric sliding against itself. Finally, he yanked the tie from around his collar, sending a whipping sound through the air, giving you goosebumps.
“Cover your eyes,” Thomas said, tossing the tie onto your lap. You pick it up, turning over in your hands as you contemplated complying. You could say no. Toss it onto the floor and let him spank you a few times for refusing. You always enjoyed that. What would happen if you put on the blindfold, you didn’t know – but you wanted to.
Carefully, you tie the fabric around your head, knotting it tightly in the back. You listened closely for any clues as to what would come next.
“Lie on your back,” he instructed. You leaned back on your elbows, scooting yourself to the center of the bed. You lay on your back, perfectly still, unsure of what to expect next. Just then, you felt Thomas brush his hand against your thigh. He gently massaged every muscle in each of your legs, the stress of the day slowly melting away. Finally, to your relief, his fingers slipped between your thighs.
“Spread your legs,” said Thomas in a low growl. You did as you were told, sliding your heels across the satin sheets. “Bend your knees. I want to see all of you.”
Your damp skin was cold as your lips spread apart. There was no hiding your desire any longer. Unable to see anything but darkness, your other senses were hyper-aware. The cold air breezing across your center, the subtle scent of Thomas’s cologne, the soft padding of his footsteps to the nightstand to take a drink. Your breath clutched in your chest as you heard him climb onto the bed. You felt the weight of his body pressing into the mattress, yet not so much as a single breath on your skin.
His arms wrap around your thighs as he settles in on his elbows. It took you a moment to comprehend what happened next – a freezing cold surface passed over your labia, sending ice through your veins. Thomas let the cube slide from between his lips onto the top of your mound. You try to wiggle it away, but Thomas was holding you perfectly still. Droplets melted from your warmth, sliding into the folds of your center. That’s when he started to blow – as if the ice-cold water wasn’t chilling enough on its own. Your pearl tingled; your legs quivered.
“Thomas…” you gasped.
His long tongue flickered over your center before replying. “Yes?”
“I’m going to get you back for this,” you said.
“I’m counting on it.” Your words were like fuel on his fire. His appetite was ravenous; he lapped up your desire, savoring the sweet juices. He squeezed tight on your curves every time you let out a moan, leaving marks wherever he touched. He wanted you to wake up tomorrow knowing exactly who you belonged to.
“Thomas, please…” you begged for your release.
Every time he felt you approaching climax, he stopped. The past hour was absolute torture – and you were loving every minute of it.
“Not now, darling,” he said, pulling the tie from your face. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Thomas got to his knees, unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the floor. You watch as he undoes his belt, then the button on his pants. He finally reaches the zipper, his solid erection eager to escape. He tried wriggling out of his trousers, but his anticipation got the better of him.
“Oh, fuck it,” he said as he leaned over your body, pressing himself into you. You gasped for air as if you’d been held underwater, finally free. He filled you, consumed you, made you feel whole. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure spread through your body – but Thomas took your chin in his hand, directing you to face him straight on.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you to look at me while I’m fucking you.”
You did as you were told, not daring to break eye contact for even a moment. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding you tight as he thrusted hard and slow. You moaned every time he slammed into you, crying out for more as he took his time sliding back out. Then, with a quick jerk of his hips, he’d slam right back in.
Your body writhed with agony. Your hands were everywhere – through your hair, cupping your breasts, tugging on the sheets. Thomas himself was just out of reach, slick with sweat, his curls clinging to his forehead. He looked around, finding the tie he had tossed to the side. He took your wrists into his hands, pinning them above your head as he tied them tightly to the headboard.
“If you want to cum, you’re going to have to earn it.” He kissed your forehead as his pace evened out; he moved to your lips, demanding deep, slow kisses as he swirled his hips into yours. You knew exactly what he wanted; you opened your mouth to him, taking in his warm, slick tongue. You were tempted to bite it, but that was no way to earn your finish.
He kissed longer and deeper as he felt your walls tightening around him. You moaned beneath the pressure of his lips, longing to break free. Finally, your pleasure peaked, your legs shaking against Thomas’s bare, slick torso. He finally pulled away from the kiss, wanting to watch as you come undone – as you screamed his name. You twist and tremble beneath him, warm satisfaction spreading from your curled toes to your limp wrists.
“You’re a very good girl,” Thomas said as he kissed your forehead, still inside you. He released you from the headboard, and not a moment too soon.
“You’re a very bad boy,” you said. You pushed him onto his back, ready to take back your power. Thomas watched as you got to your knees between his legs; you looked directly into his eyes as you took him into your mouth, and this time it was he who didn’t dare look away.
You cover every inch of him, engulfing his length in the warmth of your mouth. A deep, growling moan escaped his throat as he quickly reached the point of no return. His fists closed around the loose sheets, and while you briefly consider denying him his finish, you know he earned it. He always did.
You didn’t leave a trace of his essence behind. You kiss a sweet, slow trail up Thomas’s body, finding your place by his side. You lie next to each other, staring up at the ceiling as your bodies come down from their highs. You looked over at Thomas, watching his chest rise and fall. You glanced further up to see his deep blue eyes staring back at you.
You stepped into the sunlight
on bustling Fifth Avenue. It was the first week of October, and first cold
weather of the season had arrived. Pulling your coat collar around your neck,
you threw your purse over your shoulder and set off down the street. After
a busy day of shopping, you were ready for the respite of home, a candle-lit
bath, and a glass of sweet red wine.
The
street felt particularly crowded this afternoon – perhaps it was all the
shopping bags in your hands from a variety of your favorite stores. Thomas had
been busy with an especially messy divorce all the way in Rochester, leaving
you to spend your time doing one of two things – rattling around your empty
apartment, alone with thoughts of babies and families, or getting out of the
house and spending copious amounts of money. Today you were doing the latter,
but fortunately you had a purpose; your mission was to find an enticing set of
lingerie to celebrate Thomas’s return to the City. You’d spent hours in your
favorite boutique trying on every option you could find, even venturing into
colors and styles you didn’t usually go for. Nothing surprised Thomas more
than when you ventured from your comfort zone.
You were just about home when someone hit you, hard on the shoulder, as they hurried
by in the opposite direction. You dropped nearly all of your shopping bags, your hand clutching to the point of impact.
“God!”
you shouted, whirling around, ready to tear into whoever dared to
shoulder-check you, but it was too late. They had vanished into the
crowd. You stood in
the middle of the sidewalk, completely stunned that someone would do
such a
thing. When the pain began to subside, you gathered up your bags. As you
turn
to walk away, you notice you’d been standing in front of a Baby Gap the
whole time.
Curious, and certain no one inside would recognize you, you pulled on
the heavy
glass doors and stepped inside.
Every
candle in your apartment was lit, setting the mood for the romantic
dinner you’d planned for Thomas. You ordered the entire meal from his
favorite restaurant
and had them deliver the meal to your apartment – you wanted to spend
the evening completely
alone with your wonderful boyfriend. He had texted you earlier in the
day, letting
you know he would be over around 7, and mentioned something about a
surprise.
{I have a surprise
for you, too, mister.}
You were wearing your new lingerie – a strappy bra with matching panty and garter you got
especially for Thomas’s homecoming. Elastic bands wrapped around your entire
body, from your collar bone down to your thighs. It had been a nightmare to get
into, but once you had it right, you knew Thomas would love it. He’d been
hinting around at tying you up lately, and you were beginning to come
around to the idea.
Just as you finished
setting the table, the doorbell alerted you to Thomas’s arrival. You
practically ran to the door, giving yourself a final check in the mirror
before
answering the door. Red lips, a fresh blow out, Thomas’s favorite heels –
you were ready. You took a deep breath, thrusting your breasts into the
air and
opened the door.
“Hello, handsome,”
you said, barely getting the words out before you were wrapped in Thomas’s
arms. He cradled your head in his hands, holding tight as he dipped you in
one swift motion. He devoured you with deep, passionate kisses. Finally, he
spun you upright, still holding your face in his hands.
“I missed you,
too,” you said with a smile.
“We’ll get to what
you’re wearing in a moment,” he said, looking you up and down, “but my God,
I’ve missed those lips,” Thomas said, once again taking your lips between his.
“You know, we do
have plans this evening, Mister Hiddleston. Unless you’d like to forget it all and
get naked,” you said, hoping for the latter.
Thomas made a
thoughtful face, then stood up and straightened his tie. “No, ma’am. I’ve got
big things planned for us tonight. But perhaps when we return home…” he trailed
off, teasing you with one last, lingering kiss.
At Thomas’s
insistence, you finally tore yourselves apart long enough to eat dinner.
And,
at your own insistence, you put on a few more layers of clothes before
you left. You had no idea where he was taking you and, for once, didn’t
care. The
man you loved was by your side once again, and that was all that
mattered. It
was only when the two of you strolled up to Rockefeller Center that you
could tear your eyes
away from him.
“Thomas, no!”
you said in disbelief.
“Darling, yes,”
he said.
Your emotions
overwhelmed you. It was what the two of you had done on your very first
date, where you had been completely terrified – of skating, of letting
go, and especially of Thomas. This time, you couldn’t be more excited.
You’d opened yourself up to the possibility of love and had been
rewarded tenfold. He took you by the hand and walked to the rental desk,
where brand new skates were waiting for you both.
“Nice to see you
again, Mr. Hiddleston!” the attendant said.
Of course he’s been here to set this up.
Thomas was such a thoughtful man – you couldn’t wait to do everything in
the
world with him. After putting on your skates, the two of you headed for
the ice. There would be
no hesitation this time – you couldn’t wait to get out there. Hand in
hand, you glided onto the rink. It was a brisk evening, just cold enough
for Thomas to hold you close as you skated around. It was only the
first cold snap of the season, but you were
already imagining spending the snowy winter wrapped in his warm embrace.
As the crowd
thinned, it occurred to you that you’d been skating for hours, not
once letting go of each other’s grasp. The last family left the rink, leaving
you and Thomas alone on the ice.
“Look how great
you’re doing, love,” he encouraged. Excited to show him what you could
do, you ventured out on your own for the very first time.
Step. Push. Glide. Step. Push. Glide.
“Ha! Look at that!
I don’t even need you,” you joked.
“You certainly
don’t need me. But I do hope you want me,” he murmured.
“You know
I do,
silly,” you said, reaching back for his hand. When you didn’t find it,
you turned to see where he was – and where he was took your breath away.
You clutched your heart as you saw Thomas W. Hiddleston on one knee, a
diamond ring sparkling in
his hand. You started to cry before he could even begin to speak.
“Darling,
you’re the love of my life,” he began, your tears evoking his own. He
sniffled before continuing. “Would you do me the honor of
becoming my wife?” He looked up at you expectantly, hoping you would
answer
before his heart beat straight out of his chest.
Struggling to
maintain your balance, and your composure, you nodded enthusiastically. “Of
course. Of course!” you squealed. You fell into his arms, holding his cold cheeks in
your hands. You’d never seen this side of him before – nervous, and uncertain. You kissed him, over
and over, until you were convinced he knew just how much you loved him. Finally,
you sat down on his knee as your attention turned to the ring.
“It’s so
beautiful,” you said. Thomas steadied his trembling hand to slide the vintage
Tiffany ring onto your perfectly manicured finger.
“Perfect fit,” he said.
“Perfect fit,” you agreed, looking into his glistening blue eyes. He was talking about the ring;
you were talking about your future husband. “You’re going to be my husband!” you shouted in disbelief.
He giggled over
your excitement, his nerves finally subsiding. “You’re going to be my wife!” He
looked at the ring on your finger and realized that every decision he’d made in
his life – good and bad – had led him to you. He wrapped his hand around yours and held it close to his heart.
“What do you say
we go home and celebrate, hmm? Pop some champagne and go absolutely crazy on
each other?” he said with a growl.
“Yes, yes!” you said, absolutely giddy.
A newly engaged
couple, the two of you walked back to your apartment, stopping off for a bottle of Dom
Perignon. You made sure to keep Thomas on your right side the entire
time, unable to keep your eyes off the new piece of jewelry on your left hand.
Though you’d been proposed to three times before, you’d never felt like this –
so absolutely certain that a life of happiness and love lay before you. He made
you a better person – changed you in ways you never thought possible, and now
he would change your last name as well.
“Hello, handsome,”
you said as you answered the door, barely getting the words out before you were wrapped in Thomas’s
arms. He cradled your head in his hands, holding you tight as he dipped you in
one swift motion. He devoured you with deep, passionate kisses. Finally, he
spun you upright, still holding your face in his hands.
“I missed you,
too,” you said with a smile.
“We’ll get to what
you’re wearing in a moment,” he said, looking you up and down, “but my God,
I’ve missed those lips,” Thomas said, once again taking your lips between his
own.
“You know, we do
have plans this evening, Mister Hiddleston. Unless you’d like to forget it all and
get naked,” you said, hoping for the latter.
Thomas made a
thoughtful face, then stood up and straightened his tie. “No, ma’am. I’ve got
big things planned for us tonight. But perhaps when we return home…” he trailed
off, teasing her with one last, lingering kiss.
With your
left hand occupied by Thomas, you rode in his shiny Jag with your right hand
clamped onto the door handle. It was a crisp Spring morning – the perfect
weather for driving, top down, to the countryside. It was his niece’s birthday
party, and he couldn’t have been more excited to introduce his family to the
woman he loved – and you couldn’t have been more nervous.
With your
left hand occupied by Thomas, you rode in his shiny Jag with your right hand
clamped onto the door handle. It was a crisp Spring morning – the perfect
weather for driving, top down, to the countryside. It was his niece’s birthday
party, and he couldn’t have been more excited to introduce his family to the
woman he loved – and you couldn’t have been more nervous.
“Meeting your family is one
thing, but meeting everyone at once? At a birthday party full of screaming
five-year-old’s?” you asked. It’s been a source of constant anxiety ever since
he first mentioned it last month. It really wasn’t fair – he’d asked
over the lovely breakfast he made after a morning spent making love. How could
you say no? You would have agreed to practically anything that day.
“They’ll love you. I know
they’ll love you,” he said for perhaps the hundredth time.
“I don’t know they’ll love me. I like kids, but… they never really
like me,” you said, a knot forming in your stomach. This was going to be awful.
“Listen, I know you’re anxious,”
he said, taking a tighter grip on your hand. “But at the end of the day, it’ll
all be over. And it never goes as horribly as you expect, right?”
He had a point. You had to try –
he deserved that much. And if they were anything like Thomas, they would be lovely.
“Just remind me to take a breath once in a while, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, bringing your
hand to his lips for a kiss. Holding your hand close to his heart, he flicked his turn signal on and exited the highway. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings faded into single-family homes with minivans in the driveways and swimming pools in the backyards.
Finally, he turned down a long
driveway stretching across a lush, green lawn. You immediately felt reminiscent
of home – the colorful balloons attached to the mailbox, the Student of the
Month sticker affixed to the family-sized SUV. It stirred something deep within you;
whether it was about your past or your future, you couldn’t be sure.
Stepping out of the car, you
adjusted your skirt. You straightened your necklace, touched up your lip gloss.
Luckily you had remembered a scarf to wear over your hair; it still looked as perfectly
done up as it did when you left home. One less thing to worry about. Thomas
led you up the sidewalk to the front door. Before he rang the bell, he took both
of your hands in his, holding them tight to his chest.
“Just breathe, okay?” You nodded, taking a few deep
breaths. He held you tight against his chest, not letting go until he knew you’d be okay. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Thomas turned to ring the
doorbell. Only seconds pass before a herd of small children came thundering
towards them. The door flung open, and a little girl with golden curls leapt
into Thomas’s arms. “UNCLE TOMMY!”
“MADDY! There’s my birthday
girl!” Thomas carried the girl into the house, using his free hand to lead you
through the doorway and into the foyer. You were impressed by your first glance
into the mansion – there was a large, wrought iron staircase encircling half
the room, but the framed photos that filled the walls made it feel warm. Taking
a deep breath, you noticed the scent of freshly baked birthday cake in the air. Apparently his sister was also Wonder Woman.
“Is that my brother I hear?” Sarah
walked into the room, and you realized you were now outnumbered by
beautiful blonde Brits. She rushed to her brother’s side, kissing him on both
cheeks.
“We’ve missed him, haven’t we?”
she said to Maddie, who was squirming her way out of Thomas’s arms. She dropped to the floor, looking up at you
with great curiosity.
“I have someone very important I’d like you both to
meet,” he said, kneeling down to be eye-level with little Madison. “This is the
pretty lady I was telling you about.”
“Hello,” you said, suddenly unsure
of where your arms were supposed to be. Madison, with a big pink bow in
her hair, smiled up at you.
“It’s my birthday,” she said in a small voice.
“Happy birthday,” you said with that overly enthusiastic tone that kids loved. You handed her the gift Thomas had picked out and wrapped himself – a box almost as big as she was. Something told you the pink wrapping paper won you some points with the little princess.
“Welcome to our home!” Sarah said as she put her arm around your shoulder, leading you through to the kitchen, decked out in princess party decorations. The long dining table was full of gifts of all sizes, glittering pink cupcakes, and a 3-D cake in the shape of a castle. You suddenly wished you were five years old again. “I apologize
in advance for the insanity. I don’t know what I was thinking letting Maddy
invite her entire class.”
“Your home is so beautiful. It
was such a gorgeous morning for the drive, too,” you said.
“Oh, thank you! We got lucky
with this weather; up until yesterday, it was supposed to be a washout,” Sarah
said with her head in the fridge. She took out another pack of fruit punch
pouches, placing them in a big bowl of ice labelled “Wishing Well.”
Thomas took a seat at the bar
counter, pulling out the stool next to him, motioning for you to have a seat.
You place your bag on the counter as Thomas started rubbing your back. He
leaned over to kiss your cheek, whispering words of encouragement into your
ear. “You’re doing great.”
“Aren’t you two just ADORABLE?!”
Sarah gushed. Your cheeks turned bright red. “We’ve all been dying to meet you, love. You’re all
Thomas talks about these days! Now that you’re here, I only have one question,”
she said, placing her hand on her hip.
“Oh… what’s that?” you said, a
lump rising in your throat.
“Where did you find that
GORGEOUS Chanel bag?!” Relief washed over you. Apparently, acting was a talent
that ran through the entire Hiddleston family.
“Well, actually…” you said
with a sideways glance to Thomas. “My ex-husband bought it for me as a gift. I
considered selling it after the divorce, but I just couldn’t part with it.”
“Honey, never let a man come
between you and your bags,” said Sarah. Before you both could finish laughing,
a crowd of boys dressed as princes came running through the kitchen at top
speed. Madison followed closely behind, pointing her magic wand in what you assumed was an attempt
to turn them all into frogs.
“No running in the house! THOMAS!” Sarah pleaded,
but it was too late; her brother had taken off after his niece, chasing fifteen
screaming five-year-old’s all through the house. He finally caught up to his
precious Maddy, throwing her over his shoulders with cheers and whoops from all
the little boys in the room.
“I see Thomas is universally
adored,” you remarked, watching the madness unfold.
“Oh, you have no idea. He does
things like this – get the kids all riled up while I’m clinging to my last
shred of sanity – and I can’t even be mad, because look at them,” said Sarah. “Madison
completely adores him, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”
“It’s so sweet to see that side
of him,” you said softly to yourself.
“Maybe she’ll have some cousins
to play with in the future, hm?” Sarah teased.
You smiled. “Yeah, I mean… look
at him. He’d be amazing.”
The sun was setting as Thomas
drove the two of you back to the city. You’d been quiet for most of the ride
home; spending an entire day with his family had been emotionally exhausting.
Still, you couldn’t help but feel a clutch in your heart when it finally came
time to leave. They were all so lovely, so welcoming. You’d almost forgotten
what it was like to be part of a family.
“Did you enjoy yourself today?”
he asked.
“I did. I didn’t want to leave,
actually,” you said with a confused look on your face.
“Does that surprise you?”
“A little. I’ve gone through
most of my life on my own, never really thinking about what it would be like to
have children, or a family, but…” you trailed off.
“But today got you thinking
about it,” he finished. There was a long stretch of silence as you tried to swallow
the sob caught in your throat. Thomas took your hand and squeezed. “May I ask
why that makes you sad?”
You wiped the tears from your
eyes, taking deep breaths to loosen the tightness in your chest so you could
speak. “I never had a real family. My parents were never around, so
I left for the city as soon as I turned 18. I – I just thought I wasn’t someone
who could have that. Not everyone gets a family with children and cousins and
uncles, and I just figured I was one of them.”
Thomas blinked a tear away from
his eyes as he pulled the car into the garage at your apartment. The fact that
the woman he loved – a woman who deserved everything in the world – thought she
didn’t deserve a family, broke his heart.
“Well, I didn’t expect to have
this conversation in the car, but…” he turned to face you, holding your face in his slender hands. “If you want a family with children and cousins and uncles, it
would be my honor to give that to you. To have that with you. If you need time to sort through your feelings about it,
then take all the time you need,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” you said, wrapping
your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. You did need time to think about it – these were
life-altering decisions, after all. After three marriages, all of which you
knew were doomed to failure, you felt safe in never having to confront your
fear of having a broken family. Maybe you were letting your emotions get the
best of you, but seeing Thomas so overjoyed to play with his niece had opened
your eyes to the possibilities that had long ago been locked away inside your heart.
Maybe a family was what you’d been missing all along.
Rolling over in your massive king size bed, you wrap yourself up
in the plush comforter, not wanting the day to begin. But it’s caught on
something – you can’t quite pull it all the way up. Reaching out to give it a
good yank, a warm body next to you blocks your path. You run your fingers along
the muscular arm, finding your way to his fuzzy chest.
Thomas.
As if he could hear your thoughts, he rolls over and says, “Good
morning, beautiful.”
Cuddling up to his chest, you lay with his arms wrapped around
your body, your legs intertwined.
“Did you sleep well?” you ask.
With a sleepy grunt, he nods his affirmation. “Never better,
actually.”
“Me, too,” you said, nuzzling into his chest. And it was the
truth. There was something about sleeping next to him, feeling completely safe,
that put your very soul at ease. It was an entirely new feeling for you, and
you were already addicted. “I love you, Thomas.”
Butterflies fluttered from your stomach to your chest. Of course
it was true, but neither of you had said it since the incident. Leaving him on
the doorstep, pushing him away – you still couldn’t bear to think about it.
Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe he would never say it again. Looking into
his sleepy eyes, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking.
Before you had the chance to overanalyze anything else, his lips
were on yours. His nose pressed into your face, his lips softly caressing your
own. His warm hand slipped into your pajama top, grazing your bare back in the
most comforting way. Your anxiety melted away with every sweet little kiss;
there was no lust, no demand – just a tender expression of his love for you.
Taken aback, you look into his eyes, his thumb softly grazing your
cheek. In this moment, you don’t have a care in the world. The anxieties of
yesterday are history; all that matters is the future that exists with this incredible
man in front of you. Overcome with emotion, you kiss him again, deeper and more
urgently. Slowly, you climb on top of him. His hands rest on your hips as you
settle in, your arms wrapped around his neck as you’re making out. Your fingers
find their way into his curls, twisting them around and pulling gently as you
kiss. The first time he lets out a moan, you about lose your mind; it was soft,
breathy, quiet – so subtle you almost missed it. But you didn’t. It stirred something
deep within you, and you desperately wanted more.
You sit up, pausing for a moment before pulling your top off and
tossing it to the floor. You held your breath as he took in the view – the
woman he loved, straddling his nearly naked body, now topless in front of him
for the very first time. You were suddenly remembering every little flaw you
see in the mirror – the little stretch marks, the stubborn pudge; surely, they
were as obvious to him as they are to you. He leans forward, running his hands
down every curve, his nails lightly scratching as they made their way up your back.
“You’re stunning.”
Blushing slightly, you thank him for the compliment. “This part is
always scary for me.”
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he promised. Closing
the space between, he pulls you in for another kiss. With both arms wrapped
around your body, he twists around until your back is against the mattress.
Hovering slightly above you, a serious look comes over his face.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
Without hesitation, you shake your head. “No.”
“Tell me what you want.”
I want your
fingers. As awfully as the other night ended, it started with some of your
favorite foreplay. There were certain things fingers could do that penises just
couldn’t. It was all about you – and it was always the more generous lovers
that chose to please a woman when there wasn’t as much involved for them. Most
men wanted something in return, an equal exchange. But Thomas was different.
“Touch me like you did at the theater.”
He lays down next to you, sliding one arm between you and your
pillow. He always wants to hold you, no matter the situation, position, or setting.
It was endearing, and sweet. Even as his hand slid into your panties, the
emotions arising over all others were those of safety and comfort.
He leaned in to kiss you, gently taking your bottom lip between
his as he slid a finger between your folds. As his tongue went deeper into your
mouth, his finger slid deeper into your core. His movements were slow, building
torturous tension with every stroke – something you suspect he knew. He
explored every part of you, coming back to all the little places that provoked
a reaction. Just as you enjoyed his moan, hearing your gasps, sighs, and feminine
whimpers left him breathless. He couldn’t wait to make you scream.
As he rubbed circles around your pearl, your heart was pounding –
you knew you were getting close, but you didn’t want it to end. Not yet. As
hard as it was to stop him, you knew there was more pleasure waiting for you –
you just had to take it.
“Take off your boxers,” you said between gasps. He pace was
quickening; he was practically slamming into you. It took all of your strength
to stop him, but you wanted more.
“Are you sure?” he asked, not wanting to risk another chance at
being left on your doorstep.
“Yes, Thomas, please,” you replied. I’m practically begging.
“Whatever you want, my love.” He rolled onto his back, hooking his
thumbs into the waistband of his underwear. Before he could get them off, you
were there to help, pulling them down his legs and flinging them across the
room. Your excitement both delighted and aroused him. “Get on top. I want you
to feel completely in control.”
“Yes, sir,” you said with a wink. You climbed onto him, lowering
yourself down on his rock-hard erection. He filled every bit of space you had
to offer. Using his legs to brace yourself, you threw your head back as your
body adjusted to the man inside you. Your hips start to roll as Thomas sits up,
pulling you even further onto him.
He held you close, kissing you all over as you were riding him;
your neck, your shoulders, your nipples – if it was within reach, he was worshipping
it. Finally, he reached your lips once again. Fully embraced in each other’s
arms, the rhythm of his hips matched yours. Totally in sync, the tension was
building again, faster and more intense than before.
Every groan scratching out of his throat pushed you closer to the
edge; you were out of breath, flushed and hot, as Thomas reached down to your pearl.
The speed of his finger against your clit brought you to bliss within seconds.
You bury your face in his neck, screaming his name.
“Oh, Tho- Thomas!”
Every muscle in your body clenched, your tightening walls seducing
him to come with you. You could feel every movement as his throbbing shaft twitched
and pulsed, emptying inside of you. He pulls you down with him as he collapses
back onto the bed, his arms still wrapped around you.
Minutes pass as you both
try to catch your breath. Then, he has just one word to say: “Wow.”
“Yes, that was… wow,” you agreed, still not thinking clearly
enough to form thoughts of your own. Finding your place on his chest, you
settle in, taking time to enjoy the moment. Lying next to Thomas, your vision
slowly becomes clearer; your heart rate slows. You’re at ease. Never in your
life have you been so happy, so content. Not to mention, so totally satisfied.
Just when you thought things couldn’t get any better, he turns towards you to
ask a question.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving, Thomas.”
“We did work up quite an appetite,” he said with a wink. “Would
you like me to cook you some breakfast? Some scrambled eggs, and I think
there’s still a bagel leftover from last night.”
“That would be wonderful.”
You watch as he rolls out of bed, searching the room for the
boxers you flung off him earlier.
“Um, Thomas…” When you had his attention, you pointed up – they
had landed on the top of your armoire. Your face began to blush as he giggled
at the sight of his underwear near the ceiling; you pulled on your silk
dressing robe and walked with Thomas into the kitchen.
You weren’t much for cooking, and not entirely sure what gadgets
and tools you even had. But Thomas seemed to find everything with ease, cooking
up a lovely breakfast for the two of you to share. After three divorces, you
weren’t entirely sure marriage was something you’d ever want again. But sitting
here in the morning light, Thomas W. Hiddleston by your side, he might just be
able to change your mind.
A warm rush of air swept over you as you stepped through the
door into Tom’s trailer. He stepped in behind you and slammed the door, sending
shockwaves through the walls. You quietly take a seat near the heater, rubbing
your arms to get warm, as Tom paced through the small space.
“Is everything alright?” you ask tentatively.
“Do I look like
everything is alright?” he said, glaring at you from across the room. He then
signed, bracing himself against the counter as he dropped his head in defeat.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
You walk over to him, placing your hand on the small of his
back. He was chilled to the bone, and soaking wet. It was only noon but he’d
been at work since 5am; it was enough to make anyone cranky.
“Let me get you a towel,” you said, trying to slip behind
him.
“No, I don’t need a bloody towel,” he snapped, slinking away
from your touch. Any other day, he’d be happy to let you console him. But his
agitation got the best of him. His hands were lost in his thick, wet curls; his
grip tighter than you’ve ever seen. He closes his eyes, trying to catch his
breath.
“I don’t mean to take it out on you,” he said, pacing again. He then paused for a moment, looking you dead in the eye.
“Oh, fuck it.”
In two steps, he was in front of you. Before you knew what
was happening, your back was against the wall. Tom took each of your wrists in
his hands, pulling them away from your body and holding them above your head. His
body, from head to toe, pressed against yours.
“Thomas, let me…” you said as his teeth grazed your ear, interrupting
every thought flying through your brain.
“Don’t make a sound,” he growled, his hot breath sending
chills down your spine. You close your eyes as he kisses your neck, teasing you
with his tongue. Bracing your wrists in his left hand, his right travels down your
body, slipping beneath your dress. His cold hand tears the delicate lace
panties away from your body in an instant.
The shock of it all causes you to gasp. All the time you’ve
been with Tom, he’s never been like this – dark, intense, unrelenting. It was
intriguing; you didn’t know what was going to happen next, and there was no way
in hell you were going to stop him.
“Do I need to keep that mouth busy or are you going to be
quiet?” he asked. His forehead was pressed to yours, his icy eyes staring down
at you. His fingers slipped over your mound, feeling their way between your
folds, dripping wet with desire. Biting your lip to keep from making another
sound, this time it’s him that moans, deep and breathy, as his finger slips
inside you.
He can’t wait another moment before having you. Finally
releasing your hands, he struggles to unbutton his tight, wet pants. Without a
word, and now feeling as impatient as he is, you wrestle the button free; he
pushes the fabric down below his hips, just enough to bare his erection.
He grabs you behind your thighs, picking you up and wrapping
your legs around his waist. He pushes you against the wall as his mouth crashes
into yours; your lips parted to let him in as he lifted you higher, slamming you
down on his rock-hard cock. As soon as he was inside you, you could feel him
moaning into your mouth, the vibrations echoing through your entire body.
He bounces you up and down, up and down, watching as
shockwaves ripple through your breasts with every thrust. Your arms wrap
tighter around his shoulders, clawing into his skin to keep from moaning. Your
back arched off the wall, craving every inch he had to offer. Every thrust
overwhelmed your senses; the look of lust on his face, the sound of his skin
hitting yours, the feeling of your walls throbbing around his length.
Looking into his eyes, you could tell he was close. Nearing
the tipping point yourself, you took a risk. Your hands slid into his hair,
tugging on a handful of curls as you whisper in his ear, “Come with me, Thomas.”
He knew he had told you to be silent, but damn it if you
didn’t know how to push him over the edge. Your head dropped to his shoulder,
biting at his muscle as his pace intensified, his shaft throbbing inside of
you. Moan after fractured moan scratched from his throat, sending you over the
edge. Every muscle in your body clenched as he spilled inside you, your orgasm
enticing his own.
His hands and legs were shaking, his breath as erratic as
yours. He slowly set you down on your feet before you both collapsed onto the
floor. Laying on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat gradually slowing.
There was no need to speak; the two of you had made love before, many times. It
was always incredible, but never like this. This was a completely new side to
him. And you loved it.
“Feel better?” you asked.
“Yes, much.” A shy smile shot across his face. Suddenly
aware of how aggressive he’d been, he now seemed wary; nervous that he had
shown you a darker side of himself. “I’m sorry if I was…”
“Shhh.” Your fingers went to his lips as he struggled to
find the words. Holding his face in your hands, you gently stroke his stubbly
cheek. “I loved it.”
Rolling to his side, he takes you in his arms, kissing you
in the way that you’re used to being kissed by Thomas W. Hiddleston – softly,
loving and delicate, like you were his greatest treasure. But you’ll never
forget the day you saw his dark side.
Moonbeams streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You
stagger over to the drapes and pull them closed, stumbling over the new shoes
you pried off hours ago. It was 3am, and you’d already finished off one bottle
of wine. You sat alone on the sofa, in complete darkness, reading and
re-reading the numerous messages from Thomas.
{What happened?}
{I’m so sorry. For whatever I did.}
{Please, my love. Talk to me.}
The last one came through hours ago. He must have gone to bed. You
open another bottle of wine, taking a gulp straight from the bottle. No need to
waste a glass on this misery. Turning to head towards the couch, you throw your
head back and let the sweet juice flow. Suddenly the room is spinning as you
trip over your feet and stumble to the floor.
“Shit!” you said as you catch yourself on the arm of the chaise.
You set the wine bottle down on the coffee table to pull yourself onto the
cushions, suddenly feeling hot and messy in this dress. Rolling onto your
stomach, you reach back to undo the zipper, wriggling your way out of the mess
of chiffon.
Exhausted by all the struggling, drinking, crying – you pull a
throw pillow under your head, finally succumbing to the lure of sleep.
Slowing coming back into consciousness, your eyes don’t even open
before you feel the consequences of the night before. You can’t decide which is
worse – the overwhelming nausea, or the throbbing headache. If the sound of your
pulse rushing through your ears would quit for just a second, maybe you could
decide.
{Thwomp thwomp thwomp}
You glance over at the door, reality coming into focus.
{Knock knock knock}
Shit,
that’s the door. Who could that be?
“Go away,” you call out, wincing at the loud noise of your own
voice.
“It’s me…”
Your heart dropped. Thomas. You groan as the memories of the night
before come crashing back into your mind.
Oh God. He
must hate me.
“I brought you a bagel. Can I come in?”
You grab the robe from the back of the chair and head for the
door. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t let him see you like this. You wouldn’t let
anyone see you like this. But he deserved an explanation; you at least owed him
that much. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you undo the
lock. Light pours in from the hallway, causing you to squint up at his face,
his icy blue eyes staring right through you.
“Good morning,” he says tentatively.
“Hi,” you said, attempting to smile. You pull the door open wider,
motioning for him to come in.
He sets the paper bag down on the coffee table, concern written
all over his face. He walks back toward the door where you’re standing. The
truth is, you’re using it for support. Thomas has a knack for making you weak
in the knees, but throw a hangover on top of it and you’re not sure how to walk
anymore. He inches closer, but not wanting to crowd your space, he stops a
couple of feet away. He says nothing, but merely holds out a hand for you to
take when you’re ready.
Tears fill your eyes, burning to escape. You take his hand,
letting him lead you over to the couch. He sits down first, reaching out for
you with both arms now. You sit facing him, knees in the back of the sofa,
collapsing onto his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, holding you as soft
sobs escape your throat. There’s no use holding back now; he’s seen you at your
absolute worst, and here he is trying to make it better, trying to fix the very
situation you brought upon yourself.
“I’m so sorry, Thomas,” you said when your nerves allowed. The
tightness in your chest was loosening, sobs coming fewer and farther between.
“Shhh, it’s all right. It’s all over now,” he said, kissing the
top of your head. You lift your head to
look him in the eyes.
“I was just awful,” you said, wiping the remaining tears from your
eyes. “I don’t know what came over me. You deserve so much better than being
treated like that, Thomas, truly.” He pulls you back into his embrace, holding
you tighter this time.
“You weren’t awful. Perhaps you were just a little nervous?”
Silently, you nod. You couldn’t bear to look at him, it was just
too embarrassing. You’re a grown woman who has had sex before. Plenty of times.
What was so scary about it now?
“I hope it was nothing I did, my love. If it’s too soon, it’s too
soon. I shouldn’t have rushed things.”
“It was nothing you did,” popping your head up in concern. You
turn to face him, clutching his hand between yours as you spoke. “I just… I
don’t know, I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve always kept a safe distance
between myself and the world; I wasn’t sure I could handle letting you in. But
I do want to try.”
“Then try we shall,” Thomas said with a sigh of relief. After a
brief, tight embrace, Thomas looks at you with a playfully stern look on his
face. “But next time, will you please tell me how you feel? So perhaps you don’t
end up feeling like this again?” he said, gently pressing his forehead to
yours.
“I’d like that.”
“Speaking of not feeling well…” he said, reaching for the paper
bag on the table. “You need some food in you, love.”
He pulls out a cinnamon raisin bagel, lightly toasted, followed by
strawberry cream cheese, low fat. He knows you so well. You watch as he walks
into the kitchen for a plate and knife, admiring this man, this wonderful man,
who cares so much for you. He’s the first man you’ve truly loved and, if you
were lucky, he’d be the last.
“Where do you keep the Advil, darling?”
You start to get up, but he insists you take it easy, at least for
today. You point him in the direction of your bathroom, and he’s back within
minutes. He places the medicine and a bottle of water on the coffee table in
front of you.
“You’re going to want to eat before you take these. Is there
anything else you need?”
You shake your head. “Just my Thomas.”
“I’m all yours, sweetheart,” he said, sitting down beside you on
the couch. He puts an arm around you as you both settle in. You spend the rest
of the day relaxing in each other’s arms, ordering take-out between episodes of
your favorite Netflix shows. By late evening, you’re feeling much better –
nothing a good night’s sleep won’t take care of.
Glancing at his watch, Thomas leans in to kiss your cheek.
“I think I must be going soon,” he said, standing to stretch. He
walks towards the coat closet as an idea pops into your head.
“Why don’t you stay?”
He turns, slowly, his hand lingering on the doorknob. “Are you
sure?”
“It’s so late, you don’t have to go all the way home if you don’t
want to. I want you to feel comfortable here…” you said, trailing off.
“I only want to stay if that’s what you want.”
After taking a moment to think about it, you realize there’s
nothing you want more. Biting your lip in utter excitement, you nod your head
in agreement. “It’s all I could ever want, Thomas.”
He tries to hide the smile spreading across his own face, but it’s
no use. Dropping his hand from the door, he makes his way over to you, taking
his place on the sofa.
“How could I say no to this beautiful face?” he asks, stroking
your cheek. “But I want to make one thing very clear.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m a proper gentleman, and I don’t want you to think you can put
the moves on me. I’m not that kind of boy,” he says with a cheeky grin. You
can’t help but erupt into laughter.
“Of course not, Thomas. I’ll try my best.”
With that, he cradles you in his arms and carries you to the
bedroom. You pick out a comfy set of pajamas as he strips down to his boxer
shorts, and you both climb into bed. You lay down on your side as Thomas slips
into bed beside you, pulling the blanket over you both. Surrounded by the warm
embrace of the man you love, he says goodnight. Within mere minutes, you’re
both fast asleep.
In a dimly lit restaurant in New York City, you sat in a secluded
corner with Thomas, his hand resting on your thigh. It was late – probably close
to 11pm – and everyone else had left. You’d mentioned a craving for chocolate
cheesecake when Thomas said he knew of a place that had the absolute best in
the city, and insisted on taking you immediately. The two of you sat
side-by-side, candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls.
“More champagne, Miss?”
“Please,” you say with a nod, unable to look away from Thomas. His
shining smile has you captivated. Sitting together, hand in hand, you can’t
quite put your finger on this feeling you have – something you’ve never felt
before. But you feel it every time you look at him. Every time you look into those sparkling
blue eyes.
It’s been two weeks since your surprise date at the skating rink,
and you’ve never been happier. You’ve seen Thomas just about every day since – brunch
at the Plaza, carriage rides through Central Park, evenings at the finest
restaurants. Of course, you’d accept nothing less from a man, but this time
feels different. He isn’t doing it out of obligation, but out of love. And you
wanted nothing more than to make him as happy as he makes you.
The waiter walks away as Thomas leans closer to you. Even as he
sat next to you, just inches away, it didn’t feel close enough. The fact that
you’ve yet to consummate the relationship surely wasn’t helping. Every brush of
his skin left you electrified, desperate for more.
“You look enchanting this evening, my love.” He pulls your hand up
to his face, kissing it gently.
“I think red must be your favorite color, Mr. Hiddleston,” you
said, batting your eyelashes at his flattery. There was never a lack of
affection with Thomas, but wearing a sparkly red dress with a plunging neckline
never hurt.
“You know, it might be. It looks so striking against that
porcelain skin of yours,” he said, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. He
leans in, holding your face so carefully as his lips press against yours. No
matter how many times he kisses you, it never fails to make your heart race.
“Oh!” He pulls back in an instant, your lips still poised for
more. “I keep forgetting to tell you, darling. I’ve got us tickets for Broadway
tomorrow night. Would you like to go?”
“Of course. Are they very good seats?” you ask, taking another sip
of champagne.
“Our own private box. Nothing but the best for my love.” He kissed
your cheek as he pulled out his wallet, leaving cash on the table to settle the
bill. “Now let’s get you home.”
You spend most of the next day getting ready for your date. Your
dress, a flowing lavender halter that cinched at the waist, was one of your
favorites – and one Thomas has yet to see. You even bought new strappy heels to
wear with it. Your phone buzzed just as you put the finishing touches on your
makeup. It was from Thomas.
{Be there in 5. No panties tonight.}
You smirked.
Why do I
love when he does that?
With a shrug, you pull up your flowing skirt, sliding your panties
down your leg. You toss them into the laundry and head for the elevator. You reached
the lobby just as he pulled up outside. The doorman opens the door for you as
you slide into the shiny Jag, careful not to give the old man a show. Thomas
must have noticed, because he was grinning as you turned to greet him.
“That’s my girl.”
You arrived at the theater just moments before the show started. The
two of you were escorted to your box, which was nestled in at the back of the
theater, two levels up. You had the perfect view of the stage, and if you got
bored, everyone below you.
“Perfect, we can spy on everyone,” you chuckled, tossing your
Prada bag onto the lush carpeted floor.
“Ah, yes, but no one can spy on us,” Thomas said with a wink.
“Why do I get the feeling that has something to do with the text
message I received this evening?” You straighten his tie before sitting down
together on a luxurious padded loveseat. The curtain draws up and the lights go
down.
“Shh. The show is starting.”
You settle in next to Thomas, his arm around you and his hand
resting on your hip. The show is lovely – the acting is believable; the music
is moving. Your attention almost always goes to the costumes first, and they’re
fabulous. You haven’t seen one yet that you wouldn’t wear yourself.
It must be getting close to intermission, but glancing down at
your watch, you find it’s too dark to read.
“Are you alright?” asked Thomas.
“Oh, yes. Just checking the time.”
He nuzzles up to you, pulling you close as he kisses just under
your ear. He maneuvers himself behind you a bit, letting you rest against his
chest and shoulder. His hand, still resting on your hip, gives it a firm squeeze.
You look back at him, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. He nods
toward the stage, not wanting you to miss anything.
Taking full advantage of your private suite, he slides his hand
beneath the pleats of your chiffon dress. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as
he gently massages your leg, creeping ever slowly north.
Is he
really going to do this here?
You look around, checking for the hundredth time that no one can
see. He inches ever closer to your crease, moving as slow as honey, leaving you
aching for his sweet touch. He finally reaches the very top of your thighs,
rubbing your outer lips gently. You gasp softly as he slides a finger between them.
He suddenly stops, turning his head towards you, brushing his lips
against your ears.
“Shh… Don’t you make a sound.” He waits for you to nod before
continuing.
His finger works slowly; it moves in long lines, exploring you
from top to bottom. Just when you think you can contain yourself, he pauses
over your pearl, drawing lazy circles around her. You squirm as he picks up the
pace, biting your lip to try to regain some control. Your breath is unsteady;
you skin is flush all over. You can feel
his circles slowing; he presses all four fingers tight against your body. You
can feel his hand trembling as your hips press against him, desperate for more.
Unsure of when you closed your eyes, you open them at the sound of
footsteps and chatter. The lights are on and the curtain is falling as people make
their way out of the theater. Intermission. You both sit up a little
straighter, and Thomas casually brings his arm out from under your dress, letting
it rest behind you on the loveseat. His other hand is covering a growing
tightness in his pants.
You turn to face him, still trying to regain composure. But your
heart is still racing, and the lust in his eyes is making you far too weak.
“Can we leave?” It falls out of your mouth before you even
consider what you’re saying, but it doesn’t matter. The time for thinking is
over.
“Oh, please, my love. Where? Where do you want to go?” He’s
already standing as you reach for your purse.
“My apartment is closest.”
Thomas leads you through the crowd, never letting go of your hand
as you make your way back to the car. Your thoughts are running wild; the night
is finally here, and you can hardly wait. You feel a little queasy in the Jag,
but it must just be the car swerving in and out of traffic.
Not the
best night to forget dinner.
He glides into a parking space, throwing the car into park as you’re
both already opening your doors. Still holding your hand every step of the way,
you make it into the elevator at last. The doors close, and you’re up against the
wall, his body pressed against yours. His hands are everywhere as he fuses his
lips to your own. You’re blindly undoing his tie when the elevator chimed, signaling
the arrival of other tenants.
You quickly fix your dress, trying to seem as calm as Thomas, who
simply stood in the corner, undone tie be damned. He greeted them as you still try
to catch your breath, another wave of nausea coming over you. You break out
into a cold sweat as the doors open at your front door.
I can’t do
this. I’m not ready.
You take a moment, fidgeting with your keys as you try to think of
something to say. You slide the key into the lock, looking at Thomas before you
open the door. He reaches down to brush the hair away from your face, kissing
you on the forehead.
“I love you, darling.” His gentle smile tears through your heart,
your eyes filling with tears as you try to speak.
“You have to go,” you said in a whisper.
His eyes narrowed, lost in confusion. “What did you say?”
“I can’t let you in.” Gathering what little strength you have, you
say more loudly, “You need to leave.” You rush through the door, shutting it
before Thomas could protest. You stand on the other side of the door, tears
streaming down your face. He tries to open the door, but you’ve already locked
it. He calls out to you, unsure if you can even hear him.
“What did I do, my love? Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.
Please…” he trails off. His pleas are met with silence. Defeated, he turns to
walk away. You hear him stop for a moment, speaking so softly you could barely
hear him.
Painfully Thick Imagines 