“I’m not going to let you ruin my life,” my aunt yells from the doorway. “You are not my child — thank God. You will do as I say and expect for nothing because I am not your mother and I never will be. Your parents are dead. And there is nothing you can do about it. So stop crying like a little baby. The sooner you get over it, the sooner I can get on with my life.”
“WHEN I WAS five, my parents died in a motorway accident when a lorry crashed into their car.” I speak softly, evenly, like I am telling somebody else’s story.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Instinctively, I twist my charm bracelet around my wrist. “It’s fine. Really. I was very young when it happened and I’ve learnt to live with it.” I shoot him a quick smile. “My parents didn’t have much family. My father was an only child and my mother only had one sister who lived in London. She was my guardian and I went into her care…”
I pick up a smooth round pebble that catches my eye and roll it between my fingers. “She was evil. There’s no better way to describe her. She never hit me physically — God, no. That would have made her a bad person … She broke me down mentally so there was no physical evidence of her abuse.”
I glance over at Lenic. “I was just five years old. Just a child.” I shake my head slowly. “While kids my age played with toys and their imaginations, I had four walls keeping me imprisoned. Anything could set her off. If I didn’t put the salt back in the right place or I forgot to say please or she was having a bad day…” He reaches for my hand. “She would lock me in my room … She made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of love. And eventually, I no longer cared. About anything. About love. About life.”
From day one, when I moved in with my aunt, I was plagued with sadness. I became an unhealthy child.
I feel him squeeze my hand, and I pull in a shaky breath. “The hardest part was when no one did a single damn thing to step in. The abuse went on for nearly five years.” My chuckle is bitter.
“Her friends came to visit regularly. They never raised a single hand to help me, never said a thing. It wasn’t the case that they didn’t see it — they saw it. They chose to turn a blind eye to it. Because that’s what people do. They don’t want to get involved. They’re too busy or too scared to speak up and stand up for other people. It’s too much trouble for them, or they simply don’t care enough … I don’t know why…”
I sigh heavily, closing my eyes briefly before meeting his gaze. “That’s why it meant so much to me when you didn’t tell me I was foolish to have put myself in danger with Rose’s boyfriend, and why it means the world that you showed kindness to a complete stranger.”
I glance over at the water again before turning back to Lenic. “I didn’t have any love as a child. I didn’t know what love was.” I regard him for one, long moment. “I didn’t … not until Grandpa Joe rescued me when I was ten. I remember it like it was only yesterday. It was on the anniversary of my parents’ death.”
“He sounds like he was a good man,” Lenic comments when I go silent, brushing a strand of hair from my face with a rueful smile.
“He was the best, Lenic. I’ve got so many happy memories of him.” I look along the shoreline, a wistful smile surfacing through my grief. I cherish those times with Grandpa Joe more than anything. Looking back at them, I miss their simplicity, and the clear-cut sense of belonging I felt with him.
“He was my dad’s father and he loved me with all his heart. But it was hard for him to travel to London and visit me when I was in my aunt’s care. He had heart problems and a business to look after. But as soon as he found out what my aunt had been doing to me, he fought tooth-and-nail to get custody of me. But even then, something changed in me. Something ... something not good.” I close my eyes, and take a slow, steadying breath.
“It was the reason I was a loner at school. Why I was the outcast in this town. I was the freak whose parents died tragically and whispers through town were ‘There’s something not quite right with that girl’ and ‘She’s a bad egg, that one’. So when Jeremy lied about sleeping with me, everyone believed him.” I lift both my shoulders. “Because I was the troubled teenager with issues.”
I raise a small smile, letting him know I am OK. Despite pushing back that old pain, I am OK. Better than OK. I work hard to not let the past weigh me down. Mostly.
“Grandpa was a good-hearted man, keen to fix me. The day he brought me home, I never came out of my room — the one I live in now, funnily enough.” I shake my head and toss the pebble in my hand down on the sand.
“I never said a single word, never smiled. I didn’t even know how to laugh. Eventually, he took me to see a doctor. When they wanted to put me on drugs, chemicals that might alter my personality even more, might mess me up for the rest of my life, Grandpa point-blank refused. Said he’d leave that as a last resort, that he’d ‘fix me good’.” My voice is rich with pride.
“He obviously succeeded,” Lenic says, squeezing my hand again, letting me know he isn’t going to let go any time soon.
Glancing up at the moon, I feel my entire face light up at the memory of my grandfather’s determination.
“Would you like to hear the reason why I eat dessert, most of the time?” Lenic nods, smiling back at me. “Grandpa was determined that the key to happiness was laughter, so he set himself a mission to make me do just that — laugh. But nothing he did worked. On the morning of my eleventh birthday, he baked me a chocolate cake and set it on my desk in my bedroom. When he left, I just stared at it for a long time.” I shrug. “My aunt, she never let me eat anything like cake, chocolate, biscuits. I felt like I didn’t deserve a treat — even on my birthday.
“I don’t know why, but I finally gave in and nibbled on a little piece. It was like my whole body woke up. I’d never experienced such exhilaration, such joy from something. I ended up stuffing the whole cake into my mouth.” I laugh loudly.
“I kept on eating and eating and eating, even though I started to feel sick. There was chocolate everywhere. On my face, my hands, my clothes — they were all covered in it. The carpet was a big pile of chocolate mess. I remember after I finished the entire cake, I suddenly felt angry. Anger at my aunt for taking away any joy I could have had as a child. So I screamed. Loud. Real loud. I remember the church bells were ringing, and I’m pretty sure I screamed louder than them.” Lenic laughs softly with me.
“Grandpa barged into my bedroom then — worried as hell — but when he saw me screaming, he laughed.” We smile at each other. “His laughter was legendary around town and it was enough to silence me. And then he said, ‘So you do talk.’” I laugh again, remembering that special moment I shared with Grandpa Joe — the funniest person to have ever lived. “You know what I did then?”
“No, tell me,” Lenic prompts, an eager smile breaking across his face.
“I laughed. I bloody laughed. I hadn’t laughed since before my parents died, but that morning I did and it changed everything. It changed me. And ever since then, I’ve been determined to get up every time I'm knocked down. To get up and not use my past as an excuse to not live.”
Grandpa Joe gave me the opportunity to build something lasting, and I did.
“That’s why I uploaded those videos of you — to get you to laugh. I don’t know, I think I could just see something in you that reminded me of me when I was younger … Just felt like you needed to…” I feel his whole body visibly tense and I stop. Now isn’t the time and I am not one to push.
“So to answer your original question: why am I so involved in the Youths At Risk charity? It’s partly because they gave me support when I needed it. But mostly it’s because Grandpa taught me to pick a cause and to believe in it.”
Lenic gives me a long, searching look, and then his eyes dim with something sad. Is that pity or sorrow in his eyes? My stomach churns. “What? Why’re you looking at me like that? I don’t need or want your pity.”
He draws closer to me, grips my jaw in his hands, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. “Christ, I don’t pity you, Felicity — I respect you. To go through all of that and to stay on top … it’s something else. It’s amazing — you’re amazing.”
I shake my head emphatically as a drowned memory rises to the surface. “I’m not, Lenic, I’m not…”
“You are.”
“I haven’t cried since I was five.” I haven’t told anyone about the guilt I carry. Not even West. “She made damn sure to instil in me that it was a sign of weakness. It’s a part of me she still controls…” I feel my hand tighten into a fist. “I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried … I thought I could live with that, you know, we all have our crosses to bear, but I couldn’t shed a single tear for my grandpa at his funeral. He was my hero, and I couldn’t cry for his loss. I felt empty, cold inside…” My eyes look imploringly into Lenic’s. “Does that make me heartless?” My question comes out strangled, frail, and I suck in a ragged breath.
“It makes you fucking beautiful,” he rasps.
I close my eyes, feeling him wrap his strong arms around my shoulders and press his lips to my forehead. Something akin to relief washes through me. I’ve lived with this guilt for so long. Being here with Lenic, finally feeling like I can confess … it’s like a part of me, this slow sickness that has been devouring the darkest corners of my heart … is finally healing.
“Felicity … be my girlfriend.”
My eyes snap open. “Wh-What?” I stammer, feeling my heart squeeze, bubbles rising in my stomach.
There is a lopsided grin on his face. “You heard me, Felicity — I didn’t stammer. Be my girlfriend.”
My heart feels like it is trying to escape the cage of my ribs. His breath is a caress across my face and the electricity moving between us is anything but static. My pupils widen and I breathe in shakily. "You don't know what you're saying," I breathe out.
“I know how I feel," he growls, kissing me, rough and brutishly, taking what I have before I can offer it to him, his teeth scraping mine as his tongue drives into my mouth against my own. The taste of his mouth rushes through me, every touch of him exploding in my chest and making my entire body tingle and push closer to the heat of his form.
I can’t keep up with him, the way his lips claim mine, marking me somehow as his, and his alone, stealing away any breath I have left, leaving me dizzily drunk on his desire for me.
“Convince me. Convince me I’m just like those other boys you’ve been with,” he rasps raggedly, his forehead pressed to mine, aiming that stony glare of his that reminds me more of the Lenic I’m familiar with, the one who thinks he can stare down an opponent or make me weak in the knees just with his eyes. And he could.
His gaze has an unbreakable hold on me and his touches only amplify the emotion. “No … no you’re something,” I admit, unable to fight back a smile. “You’re definitely something.”
“There’s no way in hell I’ll allow another man to even think about taking you away from me. I only want you, Felicity, and I’ll make damn sure the whole world hears about it.” He kisses me again. “The thought of another man touching you, getting to know you like I’ve done…” He grins back at me, twisting his hand into a fist around my hair. “…it’s enough to wage war with every guy out there.”
“Even Cross?”
“Especially that bastard.”
I laugh. “Even Father Williams?”
“I’d take on the whole Church.” He kisses me on the lips lightly. “Just the thought that even a tiny piece of you doubts me, makes me want to fight the whole goddamn world just to prove myself to you.” His hand stills in my hair, his gaze suddenly focussed, the air around us thickening with tension.
“Listen to me. And listen to me good. You're a good person, Felicity. Who deserves good things. You're a stronger person for the things that have happened to you. I’ve got so much respect for you. I admire you for the way you live your life and the way you treat other people. You’re kind, you're sweet, and you're kinky as hell.”
I smile. “I'm not perfect.”
“Yeah. Your eating habits are questionable. Sometimes I think, ‘How the hell is this girl still able to walk?’” I tilt my head and smile wryly, thumping him playfully on the chest. He smiles back. It is a smile that could soothe a vicious dog. “Just take this one step with me and I'll prove my worth.” I bite my lip. “You’re one of a kind, Felicity. So I'm in it for the long road. I don't do any other kind. So are you in? Or are you out?”
My heart races, my pulse pounding in my ear. We’re falling too hard, jumping in with both feet before checking to see how deep the water is. But suddenly, I am being compelled to rethink a premise that has underpinned my entire life so far and influenced the way I have lived my life.
There is something about Lenic Reevus that turns my world upside down, and I don’t care anymore. I have real feelings for Lenic, deep feelings, the kind that frown when we are apart and smile when we are together.
I realise I’ve screwed myself over with my own set of rules I thought I lived by. And sleeping with Lenic isn’t enough anymore. I want something else. I still don’t want the ball and chain, the ring and the mortgage or whatever convention tells me I should want, but I want Lenic. We could get it to work. Find a version of home and love in each other. Find a place without hiding, without fears and doubts and shutting down, and a world where we could lose ourselves in each other.
Up until five seconds ago, I have never been so sure in my entire life. I hold his gaze, feeling a wonderful floating sensation all through my body. “I’ve never wanted something so bad,” I whisper, no more able to stop the words from escaping my lips than I am able to stop breathing. “I am all yours.”
A look passes between us, an intimate exchange of trust. We have both felt it tonight, all around us — the charge in the air, the power, the spark … the thrill of a ticking bomb. And now, it is about to go off.
He kisses me, slides his tongue into my mouth, runs it along teeth, teases me with every trick he knows — tilts my head, grabs hold of the back of my head, and I can feel his body press me down onto the soft warm sand, closing in, and I can feel how hot he is. It does not matter how many times I let him kiss me, feel his mouth on mine, suck on my tongue … I can’t get enough.
He sits up to pull off his top and the rest of his clothes, and I slip out of my dress. He gets to his knees beside me, his hand reaching to cradle my cheek affectionately, glancing down at me like he is touching something precious and fragile.
He brushes my cheek with the back of his hand, looks down at me with intense desire. “I can't stop thinking about you," he murmurs, his long fingers stroking through my hair lovingly. “The way you feel." His lips brush across my cheek then, up to my ear, hot breath washing over me in a whisper, and I feel that telltale tingle of arousal shoot down my spine, and my heart start beating faster as his tongue slips against the edge of my ear. “The way you gasp.” I gasp when I feel the tip of his wet hard cock just at my entrance. “The way you look at me when I make you cum.”
Softly, he guides himself inside of me, making me moan. He slowly fills me up, taking his time to make me feel every inch. He leans down and kisses me again, and I gasp into his mouth as he gradually pulls out, only to slip inside of me, sensually.
I could never not feel this need for him as he buries himself inside me, kisses me for all I am worth. I want to consume him, want to make him feel so damn good, show him in every way how he is it for me.
He is intoxicating, so intoxicating that I will never be able to get enough, never be able to control myself where he is concerned. And I know he feels the same as he whispers, "You’re beautiful." His voice is hoarse as his forehead touches mine, and his gold-flecked eyes stare down at me.
He kisses me again, wet, hot, demanding, and then pulls back so that our faces are level, staring straight into my eyes. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He moves slowly in and out of me, taking his time, feeling every inch of me. My nails dig into the solid ropey muscles of his biceps, lifting myself off of the warm sand to meet his next thrust, as we take each other's bodies in like an addiction, and I can only shudder and submit. "Nothing is more important to me than you. You are all I need," he whispers in my ear, his arms closing around me like a vice. “You’ll be all I’ll ever want.”
He looks down at me then, my heart racing, my breathing heavy, and I feel my heart start pounding harder, that one simple look speaking volumes of admiration and affection that neither one of us could ever say with words.
I breathe out his name, my fingers moving through his hair, grasping it a little too tight, fighting back the desire to change our sensual and slow momentum into hard fucking. I feel his teeth scrape down into my neck, biting, sucking, bringing with them a hint of pain that indicates Lenic is marking me, and it simply unravels me.
"Cum for me, baby," he whispers against my neck, his teeth digging into the flesh. "I want to cum with you." It would be easy to do; my entire body is already pulsating in time with the beating of my heart, with the rush of blood through my veins. “I’ve not felt this good in a long time … if ever."
All of the armour he wraps himself in is momentarily blown back to expose something gentler, a little more unguarded. The sensation in my heart his admission gives me is better than any orgasm. It makes everything worth it.
My body shakes and my hips move more frantically against him. His long thick fingers work their way in between the lips of my heat to press against my clit. My mouth opens as his fingers start to knead my inner folds, making me pant a little harder.
I have never experienced sex like this — this isn’t frantic, isn’t trying to purge out the stress of the day or relieve any sexual tension. This is romantic, deeply intimate, a rare moment of tenderness.
Slowly, achingly slowly, in perfect rhythm with the waves ebbing and flowing on the beach, his hips move leisurely, sliding in and out at a maddening pace, cock rubbing against the tiny ball of nerves inside of me, so it feels like electricity moving through me with every thrust. And his breath is hot against the crook of my neck, nose nuzzling it, his raspy sighs of pleasure driving me insane, causing me to moan out desperate replies.
I keep my hand on the smooth skin of his cheek, our gazes connected as we move together. The sweat of our bodies combine as I meet his slow thrusts each time. I feel it, the tightening in my abdominal muscles, the pressure in the small of my back, the sort of butterflies in my chest, and when he bites into my neck, his whole body tensing over me, hearing my own name from his lips as we move against each other, I know I am going to cum soon.
This feels so real, and it is more than his gorgeous body and even more gorgeous face that has a strangle hold on me. I can feel something pulling at my heartstrings, threatening to stop me from ever breathing again, and it almost hurts.
Damn. I know now what Delphine meant when she said that one day I would just know. I know now, as he trails kisses across my shoulders, down my chest, pinning me down to the ground desperately, as he slides into me again, slowly taking me, and putting everything he feels for me into my mouth, into my body, into his hands tracing patterns over my sides, over my nipples, over my fluttering stomach, into every movement of his hips — deliberate, slow — making me moan and telling me how good it feels to be inside of me.
I know … I just know.
"I’m gonna cum soon, baby," he tells me, his pupils dilated to the point where his eyes almost appear entirely black, except where the moonlight catches the gold flecks. I nearly forget everything but my own name and the man who has my whole heart in the palms of his hands.
A few hard strokes and another thrust of his cock is all it takes for me to come hard, an orgasm like no other being ripped from me by the man I love. He kisses me as I cum over his slickened cock, and my heart stops, like I almost forget how to breathe. I let my head fall back, unable to maintain the kiss as Lenic’s lips move from my mouth, to my jaw, to my neck, and to every sensitive spot that I have. Wow.
His breathing becomes shallow and erratic, and I know he is close, hips thrusting a little, thighs tense. I am addicted to this, to him, to us — and there is no fear weighing down my heart. It is so much better than anything else. He is so much better. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without him.
I don’t scream his name in the moment of ecstasy, just ride out the waves as Lenic thrusts a few more times, but they are shallow and jerky movements, and then I feel his release deep inside, his hot cum gushing inside of me, mixing with my own moisture. And as my back arches off the sand and he lets out a throaty roar, he’s never looked so beautiful than in this moment as he cums — passion, lust, need, and I guess, love, all imprinted in his starlit features.
In the post-orgasmic high, Lenic rests his forehead against mine, eyes still closed, breathing still ragged. “You’re beautiful," he groans throatily, kissing my cheek, my lips. “You know it’s just you and me, forever, right?”
“You and me against the world,” I breathe out, blinking in the haze of passion.
Rolling us onto our sides, he pulls me close, holding me hard enough like he never wants to let me go. I never want him to let go. He kisses me lightly and slowly, his hands moving sensually over my back.
Be still my beating heart, because … I want him to hold me like this forever.