“You look so beautiful tied up and blindfolded.” The tip of his cock brushed against my still sensitive sex as his voice roughened. “There’s no one around, Stella. I can make you scream as loud as I want. Fuck you as hard as your pussy can take it until you come all over my cock.” A needy whimper left me. I’d just come, but I needed him inside me. I loved when he used his fingers and mouth, but there was nothing better than the sensation of Christian stretching and filling me. The most intimate part of him in the deepest part of me. Nothing else compared. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunted. “The idea of me wrecking that tight little cunt while you’re helpless and bound?” “Yes. Please,” I begged. “Fuck me.” Another groan. A pause. And then a slam of his cock inside me as he fucked me like I’d asked. No, not fucked—he ravaged me, turning me inside out with his touch and his words. My body was bent practically double with my ankles by my ears and my hands tied together above my head while Christian pounded into me.
Brutally. Mercilessly. Perfectly. Every thrust sent me sliding toward the edge of the seat, and my world devolved into a haze of sex, sweat, and heat. The blindfold made everything twice as
intense—the sensitivity of my skin, the feeling of his cock inside me, the sounds of squeals and broken whimpers mixed with his grunts and the obscene slap of flesh against flesh. I craved release yet never wanted it to end. Christian’s hands tightened around my ankles as he bent over me and forced my legs further back. I was flexible enough that the angle didn’t hurt.
However, it allowed him to slide deeper than he’d ever gone before, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp at the new sensation.
The ache in my center built to an excruciating level. “So tight. So wet. So mine.” A thrill went through me at the dark possessiveness in his voice. “Come for me, Stella.” He stayed buried inside me while he reached one hand down to pinch my clit. This time, my screams echoed in the sultry air as my body shook from the force of my climax. I came so hard tears sprung to my eyes and leaked down my cheeks from behind the blindfold. “Good girl.” Christian kissed the tears away and slowed his thrusts, drawing out my release until he wrung every drop of pleasure from me. It was only when I went limp with pleasure that he, too, came with a loud groan. We lay there for a while, panting and blissed out. When our breaths finally slowed, he eased off me and removed the blindfold. The world burst into color again, and I blinked a few times to adjust to the light. “I hope that helped with your overthinking.” Christian untied my hands, his casual statement at odds with the savagery with which he’d just fucked me. He smoothed gentle fingers over where the rope had bitten into my wrists until the faint burn subsided. “Yes.” I let out a breathless laugh. “Best kind of cure.” Christian came into view, his skin flushed from our most recent session. Somehow, he looked even more gorgeous than before. His brows rose beneath my scrutiny. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” My smile grew.
“Absolutely nothing.” I didn’t want to move, but I forced myself to sit up and put on my swimsuit in case we ran into other boats later. Christian sank into the seat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders while I snuggled closer to his side. The gentle rocking of the boat, the soft lap of the waves, the quiet, drowsy contentment in the air… I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful afternoon. I ran a lazy hand over Christian’s abs and chest. I rarely had the chance to soak him in like this. He was always the one taking care of me, not the other way around. I rested my hand on his chest and kissed my way along the curve of his shoulder, up his neck, and along his jaw. Christian lazed still, letting me explore him at my leisure. The world saw him as a rich, handsome CEO, which he was. But there was another layer of Christian Harper beneath his carefully cultivated exterior. I saw it in the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I heard it in the way he encouraged me and stood up for me. And I felt it in the way he held me like he never wanted to let go. I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth, my heart aching for a reason I couldn’t name. Rich, handsome men were a dime a dozen, but men with hearts like his were a rare breed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for me. My lips brushed his once. Twice. Maybe it was the sun, the dreamy lull after a month in Italy, or my lingering post-orgasmic high. Whatever it was, it uncorked a hidden bottle of courage that poured onto my tongue and pushed three little words out. “I love you,” I whispered. I knew he didn’t believe in love. I knew there was a strong chance he wouldn’t say it back. But I had to tell him anyway. It was time I stopped holding myself back from doing things I wanted because of how people might react. Christian’s entire body went statue still. Even his breaths seemed to have ceased. I lifted my head. A dark, tumultuous storm brewed in his eyes and charged the air with electricity. “Stella…” His raw voice wrapped around my heart like a
vine. “I don’t deserve your love.” “You deserve it more than anyone.” His heartbeat thundered beneath my hand. “I’m not expecting you to say it back right now. But I wanted you to know.”
Christian’s chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. He curled his hand around the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine. “The day I met you,” he said. “Was the luckiest day of my life. You’ve always been the brightest part of my world, Butterfly. And you always will be.”
The depth of emotion in his words stung my eyes. “You don’t strike me as a guy who believes in luck.” “I believe in everything when it comes to you.” Including love. The implication resonated in the timbre of his voice and the way he kissed me again, like he was drowning and I was his only source of oxygen. Vital. Precious. Loved. I melted into his embrace and let it sweep me away the way it always did. Christian had his hang-ups about the L word, so I understood why it was difficult for him to say it out loud. But I didn’t need to hear it when I felt it. And my conviction in our love was so strong, my high from my confession so great, that they drowned out the small, insidious voices whispering that the greatest falls always came after the greatest highs.
40
STELLA
Sadly, all dreams had to end. Our boat trip in Capri was our last full day in Italy before Christian and I returned to D.C. with two new suitcases of gifts and souvenirs and my love confession trailing behind us. Old me would’ve felt embarrassed about saying those words and not hearing them back, but new-ish me （because there were still parts of the old me in there） was more comfortable letting things play out in their own time. That being said, our return to the city was more jarring after Italy than after Hawaii. After a month away, Christian was immediately swept up in the chaos of work, and I spent a good week digging myself out of the emails, mail, and tasks that’d piled up while we were gone. I visited Maura, worked on my marketing plan, had drinks with Ava and Jules, and ran a million errands. The adjustment to my normal daily life was harder, partly because I’d been gone for longer and partly because there was so much more to do this time around. By the time the week ended, I was tired, cranky, and in desperate need of an extra-long restorative yoga session. I decided to take that Monday slow and was making my usual morning smoothie when my phone lit with an incoming call. “Hello?”“Hi Stella, this is Norma.” My hand froze over the blender. Norma was one of my favorite nurses at Greenfield, but she wouldn’t call out of the blue unless something was wrong. I set the half cup of ice back on the counter and twisted my necklace around my finger. “Is Maura okay?” She’d seemed fine when I visited her yesterday, but anything could’ve happened since then. She could’ve had a seizure, a fall, hit her head… Worse case scenarios ran rampant through my head. “She’s physically okay.” Norma’s soothing voice eased some of my nerves. “But she, ah, remembered what happened to Phoebe and Harold this morning.” Just like that, the nerves came rushing back. “Oh no.” It didn’t happen often, but whenever Maura remembered her husband and daughter, she got extremely agitated. The last time that happened, she threw a vase at a nurse.