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Chest heaving, breathing jerky, eyes closed, she opens them as Benny Miller's giant hand brushes her face, removing strands of hair stuck to her forehead. The man grunts a little before planting a kiss on her head. "You good?" She nods with a smile, still dizzy from the spine-tingling orgasm that has just ripped through her entire body. Ben slowly pulls himself out from under her, removing the condom and tying it in a knot with a familiar gesture. The MMA fighter's footsteps echo across the parquet floor of her small student room, and she doesn't need to follow him with her eyes to know where he's going. Within a minute, the water in the shower is running.

This little dance with Ben has been going on for a few months now, but she's known him since elementary school. Her parents moved to Texas on the same street as the infamous brothers in the hellhole that became her home for years on: William and Benjamin Miller. Will was the one who babysat her and bought her sweets with the few dollars he got from her parents. Benny, on the other hand, was the type to look for trouble, so she wasn't surprised when she ran into him, many years after the brothers had left their small Texas town to join the army, and he had told her he was fighting for a living.

Now they both live in California, Sacramento to be exact. And although Ben has his own place, he spends so much time between her thighs that he is practically living with her by now. Ben being Ben, even though their relationship began as old childhood "friends", the womanizer had easily found his way between her sheets. Not that she minded, on the contrary, Ben was the only man she'd ever known capable of giving her orgasms during intercourse. The performance of her few other suitors was dull compared to Ben Miller, his 6'5", all muscle and stamina, a true sex god.

But she and Ben weren't a thing, not really. They were having fun. Benny's words. Even if she hadn't minded becoming the handsome man's girlfriend, she'd quickly realized that it wasn't an option, that she'd have to accept what little emotional affection Benny had to offer, and that she'd better kill any tiny spark of love she might have felt for the tall blond.

Will also lives in the city, but despite five months of seeing Ben, she hadn't run into him once, and every time she tried to talk about it, his friend evaded the question, so she'd stopped asking. She straightens up on her elbows when she hears the bathroom door open. She meets Benny's hazy blue gaze as he leans against the door frame. "You haven't moved at all..." She shakes her head, a tired expression on her face. They've spent the night fucking, six rounds in all, and Ben is as fit as if he had slept eight hours straight.

Even though Ben was six years older, she felt like the oldest one out of them both. Her eyes follow the man, wedged between her pillows, unable to move a muscle, sore as fuck. Ben dresses in silence, not one bit unfazed. "Leaving already?" He snorts. "Baby, I've been here for -" he checks his watch. "Almost 12 hours. I have training in 30." Practice, she suppresses a sigh, even though Ben's still a big kid, the only thing he's serious about is MMA. Well, that, and when he is solely focused on her pleasure.

She lets herself fall back into the pillows, listening vaguely to Ben moving around the apartment, then feels a kiss pressed to her lips. “Sweet dreams, sleeping beauty” The door closes and there's silence. A minute passes, then two, and she breaks down into tears. Yeah, she couldn't actually kill her feelings for Ben Miller, so, in the end, she is suffering from a devastatingly unrequited love. She stays under the hot shower spray until her sobs stop, then puts on an outfit for lazing around. No classes today, just errands to run. Jogging bottoms and an oversized hoodie on her body, a messy bun on the back of her head and moisturizer all over her skin, she leaves her building with her shopping bag under her arm, heading for the local supermarket. 

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She frowns, a box of cereal in each hand, desperately trying to remember which ones Ben wanted to try, when she hears her name called in the aisle. Her attention is drawn to the source of the voice, a tall blond man approaching her. "It's really you!" She frowns for a new reason. "Uh, excuse me, but I don't see who... you are" Even though this guy definitely looks familiar, she can't put a name to his face. "I know I’m old now, but I didn't think I'd be unrecognizable." Seeing that she still doesn't get it, the man adds. "William, Will, as in Will and Benny Miller" Eyes wide, she opens her mouth like a fish out of water. Will, as in Ben's brother. The same Ben who had his cock down her throat a few hours earlier.

A shy little smile curls her mouth. "Oh, Will, I didn't know you lived here." What a joke. She knew he lived in town, but she had no idea he was so close that she’d run into him at her small neighborhood shop.  "It's a small world, isn't it? I wasn't sure it was you, nevertheless I'd recognize that face anywhere." Will chuckled to himself softly, and the memory of a teenage him pinching her chubby, childlike cheeks comes back to her. A little on the spur of the moment, snatched by the man, she finds herself sitting across from him in a café, sipping a hot cocoa with whipped cream. She looks at Will over the top of her cup. Like Ben, Will has aged, but more like a fine wine, he's more beautiful than ever. Short-cropped blonde hair, a neatly trimmed beard, muscles that generously fills his hooded sweatshirt. Will Miller takes up space, but not in the same way Benny does. The younger man is loud, expansive, full of energy. Will is a force of nature, quiet, composed, yet his presence is effortlessly powerful.

Will also seems to be analyzing her from head to toe, and she feels a little intimidated by his steady gaze. The silence between them feels comfortable. Whereas with Ben silence is synonym of frustration; here, it's simply relaxed and benign. "Tell me, love, how did you end up here from Texas, huh?" Love. He's been calling her that since she was 5. She's glad to tell him that she's in her final year at the university, studying art history. Will raises his eyebrows a little, as if surprised that she's still in college, even though he knows they're eleven years apart, right? Which makes him 35? 36? she doesn't dare ask. She tells him about her life in Sacramento, her friends, her nights out, her interests. But she avoids talking about Ben. It would remind her of how precarious her emotional control is at the moment. Moreover, Will has always been so sensitive, he would feel her sorrow, and she doesn't want to burden him with her miserable love life.

Will talks too, but much less, he's much more private. His eyes cloud when he mentions his life in the army, his wife, and their divorce. She chews her lip, sympathetic: Will was a vibrant young man, despite the hardships of his youth and his father's drinking problems, which everyone knew about but still looked the other way. She recognizes the PTSD in him, which expresses itself differently to Benny's, but he's seen death, he's killed other men, it's changed him forever. He's no longer the Will who looked after the little girl she used to be. This man's hands are drenched in blood.

In the end, they exchange contacts and Will hugs her fondly before they part. She returns the embrace with a smile, the feeling of his arms as soothing as ever. That evening, she sends the first message. 

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Maybe Will is texting her. That single, motherless, unwelcome thought was enough to shut her out from Benny's pounding, and the rhythmic, brutal slap of his pelvis against her ass. Her chorus of moans and whimpers stops, and Ben takes a few seconds before stopping. "Baby, you okay?"  She turns her head to look at him. "Yes, Benny, I'm fine." She can't hide the slight wince that creeps up her face as Ben pushes his hips up. The blonde frowns and shakes his head. "Hell no, you're dry." Ben pulls out carefully, gently gripping her hip. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyelids, trying to control herself. This has never happened before. What if Ben gets tired of her after that? What if he goes back to fucking random girls? The thought brings tears to her eyes. She can’t lose him. "I've got a bottle of lube in my bathroom..." she tries, her voice weak. 

"Nah, lube is for suckers." He quickly removes the condom. "Ben..." The big man lies back in the sheets, opening his arms. " It's nothing, baby. You feelin’ all right?" Ben strokes her back as he talks into her hair. "You wanna talk to me? What’s messing with that pretty brain of yours, uh?" Nuzzling his neck, clinging to him like a lifeline, she shakes her head. "Just tired..." Ben hugs her tighter, the blanket draped over their bodies, and she soon drifts off to sleep, lulled by the calm, steady heartbeat of the man she loves.

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The feeling in her body that morning can't be confused with anything else. She grunts in frustration; Ben has just returned from a combat tour. They were supposed to meet today. Ben would come to her place, and they’d have wild, shameless sex. But the blood stain on her PJ bottoms means she has to cancel their plans. She doesn't know if Benny would actually mind period sex, but she's too afraid the proposal will disgust him, so she grabs her phone and cancels their date. She swallows painkillers as she gets out of the shower, then curls into a ball in bed, tensing uncomfortably with each cramp that runs through her body. 

The sharp ping of her phone wakes her from her haze. Hastily, she unlocks it, but it's not Benny's name that appears on the screen, presumably still asleep, no, it's Will's.

[Wanna hang out?]

She sighs, Will had informed her that he was out of town recently but would be delighted, his words, to see her when he returned. Well, it looks like the Miller brothers are both back in her life. More than two hours later, still no reply from Benny. This annoys her: it's past noon, the man doesn't seem to be 31, but rather 15, judging by his irresponsible behavior. Pulling herself out of bed, she finally replies to Will's ignored text.

[Tell me where and when.]

She's wearing a loose pair of black slacks and a blouse, her hair smelling of almonds as she twirls a strand under her nose with a little sigh of satisfaction. The cramps have eased a lot, so she's feeling more relaxed. When she enters the café, it's easy for her to find the elder Miller because he attracts all the attention. The waitresses giggle as they look in his direction. Even though she can't remember Will ever being a player, success with the ladies sure runs into the family. But unlike Benny, Will doesn't seem to be ecstatic about it. When he sees her in the room, his face suddenly lights up. He stands and gives her a warm hug when she reaches his level. "Did you find the place easily?" She giggles. "I've been living here for four years, so yes, I found it easily." The blonde scowls a little before relaxing. "Yeah, of course."

As always, the conversation flows between them. Will is having his second cup of black coffee when the cramps come back - mercilessly. Trying to concentrate on Will's words, she clenches her jaw and rounds her back a little, pushing through the stinging discomfort. It takes barely two minutes for Will to stop in mid-sentence. "Are you feeling unwell, love?" Her eyes leap into the blonde's blazing, sky-blue irises. She's started to sweat-cold, and she’s got no medicine in her purse. "...yeah, I'm fine." But she took too long to answer, as the frown on Will's face deepened. "I know when you're lying, love, I've known you long enough. What’s the matter? Are you ill?" Another spasm, she tries to exhale calmly, but hunches over a bit. "Oh. I see." Her friend's insight hits her. He'd realized so quickly that she was menstruating. The moment she meets his gaze, her cheeks boil bright red. "You shouldn't have gone out. I'll take you home." "No!" Will freezes. "Wait, I... I don't feel like going home right now." All she can think about is Ben. He's so spontaneous and unpredictable that he could turn up at her door without having seen her text. So, if Will takes her home, there's a chance he'll run into Ben. However, she's kept it a secret from each of the brothers that she's also seeing the other one. This situation is so fucked up, she knows, but Ben so stubbornly refuses to answer any questions about his brother. How would he react if he found out that she was hanging out with Will from time to time?

As he slowly helps her to her feet, the older man gently slides his arm around her waist. "Why, love?" Biting her lip, she looks away from the blonde and mumbles a pretext: making her look even more miserable and embarrassed. "I don't want to be on my own right now..." Will smiles, then wraps her in his soothing arms. "How about I take you back to my place, would that be okay?" She closes her eyes and returns the embrace, burying her face in his chest. It has to be the hormones, but receiving such warmth and affection has never felt so good.

William Miller's apartment is like its occupant: clean and tidy, almost like an advertisement. The decor is minimalist, harmonious, and sunlit. Finally, his couch is like his hugs: comfortable, warm, and soft. As soon as she's sat down, Will makes her swallow painkillers. She allows him to pamper her, completely trusting the boy-turned-man who had taken care of her when she was a little girl.  Will suggests that she change out of her trousers and satin blouse into one of his T-shirt and shorts. By the time Will is finished with her, she looks like a human burrito, trapped in three layers of blankets, a hot pad wedged between her lower abdomen and the elastic of her shorts, and a steaming mug in her hands.

Will made himself comfortable as well, swapping his jeans and sweater for a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved thermal tee. The blonde meets her gaze as he props his knee on the sofa making sure she's comfortable. "You really are something else, ain’t you…?" Will chuckles, slightly troubled by her words. "What do you mean, love?" She tilts her head back and closes her eyes with a satisfied smile. "Not many people would take such good care of an acquaintance..." An open laugh escapes Will and he shakes his head. "You must be high from the painkillers. You're not an acquaintance, love, I carried you on my shoulders and bought you cotton candy back in the days."

She smiles sweetly. "My childhood would have been much less interesting without you as a babysitter." "Oh, yeah?" Will sits beside her, and she leans her head against his shoulder. "Being babysat by THE Will Miller put me at the top of the popularity scale. All the girls wanted to be my friend so they could talk to you. You were a star back then."    

"I was the lucky one." It's her turn to laugh. "You were? What did a kid like me ever get you?" Still with her eyes closed, she feels Will stroke her hair with one hand. "I always wanted a little sister..." It's Will's turn to sigh contentedly. "Besides, your innocence, the fact that you didn't know what was going on with my father, home... it was refreshing. “

A cozy silence follows their conversation. Until she finishes her cup of hot cocoa and puts it on the coffee table. "Do you think they have cartoons on TV?" She turns to Will with a mischievous smile. The blonde raises an eyebrow. "So, our conversation got you nostalgic?" She's not embarrassed to say yes, wrinkling her nose in a smile. "Hold me?" Confusion crosses Will's face, then his Adam's apple slowly rises and falls before he nods. She's not quite sure why she's made such a request, but for now she'd rather blame her hormones. Settled, Will's jaw rests against her head, his arms around her, while she sits between his legs. Will makes their bodies rise with every breath, and she makes them vibrate every time she giggles at the animated characters antics on the screen.

She has been dozing in the hollow of Will's shoulder for a while when she feels her hair being brushed away from her cheek. A hand, large and warm, wraps its fingers around her neck, thumb wedged behind her ear as Will gently tilts her head up towards him. Her pulse races as the older Miller's hot breath passes over the shell of her ear. Time stands still. Eyes stubbornly closed, she decides to pretend to be asleep, the consequences of blinking now too uncertain. Will's next breath hits her mouth before spreading across her face like a subtle touch.  His hand slides to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. It takes a few seconds for her mind to register that her lips are touching something. But the touch soon becomes very familiar as she realizes, stunned, that Will is kissing her, soft and measured. But soon, all too soon, her breath catches in her throat from the shock, and Will displays his military acuity, pulling away in record time. She has no choice but to meet his blue gaze now that he knows she’s alert. Her sleep-fogged eyes easily catch the guilt in the blonde's irises. He slowly let go of her, shying away. "How long have you been awake...?" "Just now, actually..." She lies, unashamed. Will stares inflexibly towards the wall, refusing to face her. At the blush on his ears, she grins slightly. "You picked a nice way to wake me..." She is torn. What the hell is she saying?"I'm sorry... I did it out of the blue, and without your consent." Will covers his eyes with one hand. Shame radiates from him.

She turns her body towards him, kneeling between his legs. "Will…" The man doesn't answer. "Look at me, please?" Ten seconds. Twenty. When Will finally gives in, the emotion in his eyes is devastating. He's so beautiful right now, it takes her breath away. "Listen, I..." There's no time for him to convey anything, this time she's the one to kiss him. Slightly awkward, clumsy, but Will's reaction is positive as his arms close around her, a satisfied grunt escaping through his nose.

It's all so wrong. She shouldn't be doing that. Damn, she is in love with Ben. But the more she tries to reason herself, the better Will's kisses feel.  He's sweet. The way he holds her, kisses her, sucks her bottom lip, has turned her on within minutes. Their movements are so natural, so in sync, that she's only aware that he's sprawled out on the couch, leaning against the armrest, and that she's straddling his hips when she pulls away to take a deep breath. "You're so beautiful." The compliment takes her by surprise, but Will looks love-struck. "Fucking stunning..." He mumbles to himself before cupping her neck and pulling her back to him for more kisses.

He moves his grip from her head to her body, gripping her hips tightly. Her hands are everywhere, in his short hair, on his jaw, his neck and his back. It feels good, so good that she's dizzy. Her libido is usually higher during her period, but now it's at its peak. Painful cramps from the last hour are completely erased from her lower belly. The blood pulsates in her pussy and it's gross because of the blood, but she can't bring herself to let go of Will and his burning kisses. His tongue is in her mouth more often than in his. The kiss is spontaneous, almost instinctive, in stark contrast to Ben's usual rush and roughness. No teeth clattering, no discomfort, every bite, every flick of the tongue, every suck is deliberate. When he lets her breathe, something she'd completely forgotten to do, she pants, hard, while his lips map her jaw slowly before tracing the column of her throat with incomparable delicacy. She holds onto his shoulders and pushes herself as close to him as she can, her hips climbing higher and higher up his body, circling around his waist until she sits on his firm stomach. Will's movements match hers with ease. One hand grabs the sleeve of his t-shirt turned oversized on her body and pulls, exposing a shoulder and part of her cleavage. Her body tenses in a languid shudder as his tongue traces a trail of fire from her throat to the top of her chest, sinking his teeth tenderly into the skin.

Will slides his hand up the back of her thigh, running his fingers under the fabric of her shorts.  She doesn't react until his middle finger traces the edge of her panties, then she jerks upright, suddenly embarrassed. Will straightens up into a sitting position, chasing her lips, his strong abs tensing steady beneath her. She turns her head, so Will’s lips meet her cheek as one of his hands cups her nape and the other her thigh. "W-Wait, we can't..." With both hands flat on his torso, she doesn't even have to push him away as Will pulls back almost immediately. "Too much? Too fast?" He searches her eyes, looking serious. "No, I... no." Her cheeks buzz so much that she knows her face is probably bright red by now. "Hey, love," Will cups her jaw and tilts her head towards him. "Talk to me, please." With embarrassment in her eyes, she finally met the blonde's. "We can't do anything more..." She sighs, eyes down. "I'm on my period, remember." Will presses his thumb under her chin, lifting her head. "Cute." Seeing her frown slightly, he continues. "I'm a soldier, love, a little blood doesn't bother me."

The blush on her face deepens at the meaning of his words. The intensity in the blue eyes staring back at her lets her know that Will is anything but joking. Period sex. The idea is a little frightening; she's never dared to take the plunge before. "I'll stain the couch..." The blonde chuckles softly, affectionately. "I can get us to bed, and I have plenty of towels to protect whatever surface you want to make love on." Make love? Her heart tugs painfully at the term the elder Miller used. Ben never said it that way. He'd always fuck her, screw her, do her, but never 'make love' to her. Her eyes stinging and tears welling up, she suddenly looks down. Bloody hormones. A few seconds pass before Will wraps his arms around her again, holding her in a warm embrace. "There's no obligation, love, if you don't feel comfortable, we'll wait until you stop bleeding." A pause. "That is, if you still want me then." His tone is almost emotional, tearful. As if she doesn't care for him, as if he is just a phase. The thought adds weight to her heart, already burdened and broken by Ben. She continues to press herself against his chest, holding him, her hands on his broad back. "We can give it a try... and if I don't like it, will you have no objection if I prefer to stop and wait?" Will is making her feel good, comfortable, and she doesn't want to give up on him for the moment.

Holding the back of her head, Will gives her a kiss before replying with a small grin. "Whatever makes you feel comfortable." She nods, nuzzling his nose with a lovely moue. "Okay then..." She didn't think Will would be so thoughtful, but she's not surprised. That's the way he is.

His room is spacious, but only one bedside table is obviously being used, and that makes her feel sorry for him. Will disappears into the adjoining bathroom and comes out with two dark towels in his hands. He opens the bed wide and takes the time to lay the towels one on top of the other about halfway down the bed, spreading them across the width of it. Then, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, he turns to her. "Still with me?" She glances furtively at the bed, then meets Will's deep gaze. Despite his best efforts to hide it, his pupils expand as he looks at her. His desire for her is obvious, and it's enough to make her nod.

What happens next is quick: Will lifts her off the floor with ease before taking the three steps to the bed; laying her down and the next moment he's on top of her. The kisses go on, more vibrant than ever. Her nails claw at his shoulders and she whines in disappointment when he straightens up and sits back on his heels. But the deception is short-lived as Will Miller, number one catch among the girls in her Texas hometown, pulls his top off for her. The hearts in her eyes must be very visible as Will grins and chuckles at her face. "Fuck, you're really adorable." She tears her eyes away from the chiseled abs, delicious-looking pecs, and Greek statue-like collarbones to meet his gaze. "Am I?" Will smiles wider. "And you're overdressed too, little missy." He hooks his thumbs into the elastic of her shorts, giving her a moment to express her refusal before allowing himself to pull the garment and her panties all the way down her legs.

Her eyes catch a glimpse of the red stained menstrual pad. Will ignores it, or at least gives the perfect illusion of doing so, as his hand, flat against her skin, strokes the outside of her thigh. "Still good?" His velvety voice pulls her away from the uncomfortable thoughts and stress of knowing he's going to touch her while she's all bloody and messy down there. "Yeah." Will's reassuring smile helps her relax a little. He seems genuinely sincere when he says he's not bothered by the thing at all.

"Tell me to stop any time, yes?" She confirms, her lips drawing a tiny, little smile. Will doesn't let go of her eyes as he leans over her again, so she can see them darken a little more as he tastes her lips like it’s his last meal and reaches for the back of her thighs. His tongue slides against hers as he spreads her legs. The wet sound of her folds parting brings the blush back to her cheeks. To avoid self-consciousness, her hands begin their journey down the bare skin of the man who’s devouring her with his mouth. Her fingers caress his biceps, his neck, his shoulder blades. He's so broad and powerful that it makes her feel insignificant. She'd never felt that way with Ben. Sure, the younger man makes her feel small, and she's aware of his strength, but the emotion now is completely different. Will surrounds her, he's both destroyer and shield at once. He feels like a walking god.

Will releases her for a moment, cracking his neck in a way that is far too sexy. She nods blindly when he asks permission to continue undressing her. Soon she's naked beneath him, staring straight into his eyes. What exactly was in the painkillers that made her so drunk with desire? desire for him and him alone. Will is fair skinned, so it's hard to miss the blush on his face as he looks down at her naked skin. He curses into his beard and looks away briefly. "You're too much for me, honey." He plunges his gaze back into hers. "What..." A large hand passes under her back, and she arches obediently to accommodate it.

It's broad daylight, the curtains are half open, and Will needs to calm down, but the looks she gives him, drunk with love and desire, make his skull tingle like crazy.

Not a second passes between the moment his fingers close around her waist and the moment he flips her onto her stomach. A small cry of surprise passes her lips. Will wastes no time in freeing her back and neck of hair. His lips latch onto her skin and he begins to devour her again, indelibly marking her. Every bit of skin his tongue caresses burns for long seconds afterwards. When he's reached the middle of her spine, Will slides a hand between her open thighs, his other hand finding an exposed breast as she leans back on her forearms, panting into the pillows.

It's so damn hot, her whole body is on fire for the man who's barely touched her. She starts to think she's truly feverish, that something inside her has shorted out. He pulls himself up to her level, pressing his torso against her back, skin sliding like butter from the thin layer of sweat covering her body. He murmurs something in her ear, but she's too far into her intoxication to pay any attention. She only nods dumbly.

A warm palm presses against her stomach, forcing her hips off the mattress. A stroke to her folds, and then a finger, no, two fingers, thrust inside her with ridiculous ease, and she sighs with absolute happiness. Finally filled, her body goes limp like a marshmallow melting on a campfire. But Will is far from done with her. His thick fingers work her pussy masterfully and it's not long before she's singing for him, writhing on the bed, her thighs and stomach quivering, her little fists clutching a pillow.

After a few minutes of playing her body like an instrument, one hand working miracles inside her and the other thumb lazily circling her clit, Will wipes out her entire vocabulary except for his name. Soon, much faster than she's used to, she feels the familiar warmth of an orgasm swelling in her lower belly. Turning her head left, she catches sight of the blonde. Will is a fucking work of art, abs taut, sitting on his heels, head tilted forward, focused on his hands crafting delicious pleasure. Her eyes roll back in her head. Not even in her dreams could she have imagined such a vision. Her childhood crush back in full force. "I... I'm gonna..."  The man grunts, his jaw clenched tight. "I know, honey, I can feel it" She's so, so close, pressing her forehead against the mattress, concentrating on the pressure in her lower tummy that's becoming almost unbearable. Will's fingers change angle and, from the first fucking attempt, press with delirious precision against her G-spot. Her thighs trembling, she repeats "I- " without following with a sentence. "Come on, love, it's right there. I can feel it on my fingertips." Her back arches, hips rocking as she runs straight to the edge of the cliff. His name comes back to her lips like a mantra. "Wanna be my good girl?" The question draws a lewd moan from her. "Give it to me, baby. Cum now." And she falls off the edge, opening her mouth in a silent cry. Pleasure leaks honeyed and syrupy, from deep inside her and she closes her thighs around Will's hand, trapping his digits inside. Her pussy twitches violently around his fingers, almost painfully. She's had orgasms before, many of them, but none so brutal and carnal. It was as if her body needed it, that it could only be truly at peace with this unique pleasure.

Will prolongs her climax as long as he can, continuing his ministrations gently. But eventually she gets her hand underneath her, between her thighs, and pushes his wrist away. "Too much... too much, Will." The man quickly complies, withdrawing his hands slowly. A shiver runs down her spine as she feels the fingers leave her insides. With an effort that seems superhuman, thousands of needles lining the inside of her skin, she rolls onto her back, drunk with pleasure and ready to offer some in return. But her gaze has the misfortune to be drawn to Will's hands, especially the right one. All intoxication vanishes as her face turns pale at the sight of his crimson fingers. Will follows her gaze and smiles softly. "I'll wash my hands... You'd prefer that, don't you?"

She straightens up on her elbows and quickly checks herself. Blood is smeared on her inner thighs, dulled by her release. "I'd like to clean up as well...please?" Will nods, smiling. With a sweep of his chin, he points to the door to his left. "This way, honey." He leads her into the bathroom, one hand wet from her period blood on the small of her back. "You go and get in the shower first; I'll be there in a minute." She complies, pulling her hair back into a hasty bun. Turning on the tap, the water is instantly warm, and she soaks herself with a soft sigh. Just as she's rinsing off the blood, the shower door opens on Will. Her back to him, she shudders as he places his hand flat on her stomach, bringing her to him. Both his hands are now immaculate, she closes her eyes and sighs as he kisses her shoulder. "How do you feel?" She runs her fingers through his blond locks. "Great." "Yeah?" Giggling, she turns and wraps her arms around his neck. "Yeah."

Soon Will has her against the shower wall, kissing her as if his life depends on it. Skin against skin, bodies entwined, she is fully aware of his hard, hot erection trapped between them. Eager to please as much as he did, she gently pushes him away. "Are you okay..." The question hangs in the air as she drops to her knees, looking up at him through her lashes. Will immediately understands where it’s going and shakes his head slightly. "You don't need to..." She grabs the base of his cock and tentatively squeezes. "Oh, but I want to." The way she says it clearly affects Will. His cock twitches between her fingers and he swallows slowly. Her right hand strokes the length of his cock, sliding the foreskin down and letting the angry pink head appear, then back up again. Will breathes out through his nose, one hand tangling in her hair and gripping the base of her skull. Staring at his reactions, she feels herself getting wet again. "I want..." Ben likes it when she talks dirty, so "... to taste you." His hand comes down and covers hers, gripping his base more tightly. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he laughs nervously. Her eyes cloud over. Does her words have that much power over him? Was he about to cum? She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. God, she needs that cock on her tongue. So, she slides the tip into her mouth, holding the base firmly as she licks and sucks. She kisses the length of his cock, licking the skin before taking as much as she can into her mouth, all the way down her throat. Will's grip on her head tightens. He struggles not to fuck her mouth mercilessly. She's fragile and he's too strong, he'd hurt her.

Her hand grips the base of his shaft as she deepthroats him as long as she can. Then she pulls back, panting slightly. She continues to stroke him, sucking him back in as soon as she's caught her breath, the thickness of him straining her jaw. "Holy shit, you're good." She moans in response, and he quivers, caught off guard by the vibration the sound creates around his shaft. "I can't fucking hold on. Your mouth. Fuck," he pauses as his hips stutter. "Honey..." Her hand reaches for his balls, rolling them lazily in her palm. She traces the length of his cock with her tongue, pressing the tip of her nose against the soft skin of its underside. Her gaze travels up, drinking in his skin hungrily until it catches the blue irises that captivate her. Meeting his eyes holds her spellbound, then slowly, playfully, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. Veins slowly pop out on Will's neck from clenching his jaw hard enough to break his teeth. But it doesn't end there... "Son of a bitch." He still says it in a measured, gentle tone, but it's the first time so much filth has come out of his mouth, if she'd known sucking on his balls would do to this.

They say that’s the craziest feeling, so she doesn't mind doing it for him. Will's are heavy, much heavier than Ben's ever are, even when he tours the country for his fights, when they don't see each other for weeks... A switch flips in the back of her mind, but she chooses to ignore it, to start thinking about it now would be like a bomb, so why not put a timer on it? Will says her name and her eyes focus on him again. She lets go of his balls and goes back to sucking on his shaft, collecting saliva on her tongue before sliding her lips down. Her eyelids close as she breathes out, her cheeks hollow wanting to choke on his cock. Her jaw is straining, but she likes a job well done and won't be satisfied until she knows he's on the verge of bursting. Too far into her trance, her brain prevents her from hearing him calling her name. Suddenly there's a sharp pain at the base of her skull as his fingers dig in and pull her back. But with age, Will has lost speed, and his reflexes are dulled, she realizes it as warm, sticky liquid lands on her lips and cheeks. "Shit." A breathless inhale. "Wait, love, wait- keep your eyes closed." Once the surprise is gone, she holds back a smile. Indeed, Will's very audible panic is so sweet. He treats her like a real princess, and that's touching of him. A washcloth scrubs her skin as the jet of water, just at the right temperature, runs over her face. "Looks good...” he mutters to himself, then louder “I'm sorry." Now, there is unease in his voice.

She runs a hand over her face, shaking off the water that clings to her eyelashes, blurring her vision. Will puts an arm around her waist and pulls her to her feet. His face is flushed with shame even as he tries to act normal. A smile curls her lips, and she rises to her tiptoes, placing her soft lips on his rougher ones. The kiss doesn't last long, instead Will holds her tight. "Sorry again, I messed up pretty badly for a first time." A strained laugh escapes him. She steps back, gently cupping his jaw, and meets his gaze. "Stop apologizing..." she gives him a mischievous smile. "Plus, that means I did good, didn’t I?" Will snorts, still a bit uncomfortable. "Really?" When he sees that she's not answering him and is looking at him with expectant eyes, he lets out a chuckle. "You didn't 'do good'... you have a damn gift." Her cheeks warm at the praise.  "Who taught you?" And then a bucket of ice falls on top of her head. Ben was completely out of her head, for the first time in months. She sighs and opens the sliding shower door to get out of the situation. "Nobody important," she mumbles. If Will adds anything, she doesn't listen. Instead, she reaches for a towel and lets the memories of her first blowjob flow back.

She and Ben are curled up on the couch, watching a baseball game that the man really wanted to see. Despite her investment, she doesn't understand the rules and is bored as hell. So, she scrolls aimlessly on her phone until she comes across a lewd tweet from a girl who says she enjoys sucking her boyfriend's dick while he plays video games so she can spend more time with him. Her cheeks flush: she's had a few sexual partners before Ben, but none of them have ever made her actually 'want' to put their dried-up dicks in her mouth, but one look at Benny and the thought of his cock on her tongue is more thrilling than ever.

And this time, for the first time in her life, she really wants to, and she's not going to force herself. She straightens up from her cuddly position on the fighter's side. Ben doesn't take his eyes off the screen, but after a few seconds without her getting up from the sofa, the man understands that something is going on. "Somethin’ up, baby?" she takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "Yes, actually." Ben looks at her, waiting for the next part. "I want you to teach me." An eyebrow rises. "Baseball?" She snaps and giggles, the man really is a naive child. "No, no..." she lets her laugh die down, still with an amused smile on her lips, this time more relaxed. "I want to learn how to suck a dick. The way you like it." The ocean blue eyes facing her widen like saucers. Ben seems at a loss for words, so she continues. "Teach me how you want it done. " Seeing that he still doesn't say anything, she adds, now shy in the face of his unusual silence. "...please?"

Like a button being pressed, Ben suddenly comes back to himself, and his irises darken. She watches his jaw clench several times in a row before he nods. Slowly, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey, he spreads his knees and begins to unbuckle his belt, adding without looking at her. "Well, what are you waiting for? Down on your knees."

Will is very perceptive, so he must have noticed that his question had created a chill. As she finishes tying the towel over her chest, he checks the time on the bedroom alarm clock before walking over to her. "Almost seven. Shall we order?" Their eyes meet and the gleam in the blonde's eyes almost fades. Does he think she's going to dump him now? she regains her enthusiasm and forces a smile that must be genuine. "How about a bowl of ramen?" Will is quick to make the call, and when, five minutes later, he pulls a brand-new pack of menstrual pads out of the bathroom cupboard, her incredulous expression must be priceless as he admits that he always stocks some just in case, even though he's never had any use for them, preferring to be ahead all the time. After that, she can't help but blush: how can this diamond of a man still be single? And her doubts deepen when he offers her some more painkillers and a blanket, leaving her to chill on the couch while he puts the blood-stained towels in the washing machine. Is he the picky one? No. He offered to sleep with her even though she is on her period, that's not being picky. So why is that? She noticed them, women looking at him, blushing when he talks to them. Women aren't the problem either. Her thoughts are interrupted when Will's big hands place the freshly delivered dishes on the coffee table in the living room. "À table," he says softly, in perfect French, with a smile on his face, a smile that hasn't left him for a while. The evening passes in a flash, a meal full of laughter, a comedy on the television, nestled in the warmth of his arms, lulled by soft strokes to her hair. Before one scene, she lowers her eyelids, and the next second, the television is muted and his body is motionless against hers, lifted by deep, regular breaths. Outside the windows, the night is whole. It is the screen of her phone, which constantly flashes, that wakes her from her slumber. She slips out of Will's tight embrace, made more malleable by his sleep, and grabs the device, which lights up again between her fingers. She almost drops it in shock as she begins to read the notifications.

Ben - 18 missed calls

And a deluge of texts.

"I'm here!"

"ya not home?"

" ????"

"whats up? you always pick up."

"I did somethin?"

"why don't you read my texts? "

"just answer the fucking phone.”

"m getting worried abt you."

And so on until the last message.

"fuck, baby please, just tell me your alive n safe."

Not a thought. She rises from the sofa in one motion. It wakes Will, who lets out a grunt, still foggy with sleep. "Gotta go." As Will was in the middle of a quiet awakening, this sudden confirmation makes him open his eyes immediately. "Wait-what?" his voice is heavy, familiar, calm, and she wants to lie down and go back to sleep. But her hands tremble as she grabs her handbag and rushes to the bathroom where her clothes had been laid out by Will hours before. She blinks, trying to calm herself but a dull, monster-like panic has lodged itself in her belly and she suffers from not being able to expel it. "Gotta go," she repeats. Will chases her. "Wait, tell me what's wrong, baby, look at me," the sound of the nickname only Benny uses freaks her out. "I have to go, I said." She undresses shamelessly in front of the blonde, the urgency of the situation critical. She doesn't know how long it will be before the young Miller makes a scene at the nearest police station.

Her trousers are up to her knees, as Will stands in front of her, cupping her face in his big, strong hands. "Hey, look at me now," he softens his voice, as if talking to a wounded puppy. She lifts her eyes to meet his, only then realizing that her vision is blurred by tears. To stop herself from sobbing, she shakes her head and bites her lower lip. "I really have to go, please Will..." Her voice breaks at his name and the man feels utterly helpless as she blocks him out of her mind, refusing to accept his help. He looks at her for several seconds, then sighs. "At least let me drive you. It's dangerous outside after dark." She shakes her head vigorously. "No, I, no." That would be the worst-case scenario, Ben can't see her coming home with Will. "I'll be going now." Will doesn't resist any more, watching silently as she finishes putting on her clothes, then her shoes, and then she's gone from his arms like a gust of wind. He clenches his jaw tight, then closes his eyes, his face in his palms. He knew she would reject him eventually, but he hadn't expected it to be this way.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When she enters, the door is already unlocked. Ben is sitting at the kitchen table, beer in hand. "Where ya been?" His tone is monotone, calm, far too casual in comparison to the incessant text messages on her phone. "Out for a walk." The reply must not suit, because in a fraction of a second, he's on his feet, towering over her. "Don't do that. Don't lie to my face." Three steps and he's before her, pinning her between his body and the door. A characteristic vein pops up on the blonde's temple, and she still hasn't come up with an acceptable excuse for him. "What were you thinking, huh?" He grips her shoulders, tightly, without pain. "You said you were sick, so I brought you food and thought we could chill together. You were. Not. There." His long fingers dig into her flesh, making her flinch, but Ben isn't letting go. "I called you 20 bloody times, sent you I dunno how many text messages." There's no time to cut him off. "Day or night, this fucking city is dangerous. Anything could've happened." His voice crescendos and she cross her fingers that her bitchy neighbor won't come to complain now; Ben would certainly punch her in the jaw. Whether she is a girl. "I couldn't shake the thought that you were somewhere all alone, scared or..." his voice weakens, "dead".

Her hand passes between them, and she slowly tucks a lock of dark blonde hair behind his ear, preparing her answer. "I was with a friend, I lost track of time... I'm sorry?" Ben's frown is immediate. "What friend? You never have a problem texting me when you're with friends." Under the weight of his gaze, she wishes she could hide in a rabbit hole. Ben is the type to take answers and move on. But not this time, of course. "You've never met him." "Him?" A quick glance at the clock is all it takes to seal her fate. "It's 11:00, be honest for fuck's sake, we both know you're trying to bullshit me right now." Her lower lip quivers in a suppressed sob. So, this is how it ends? With him accusing her of cheating? She'd always had the idea that, in the end, they'd be in the opposite position. It's absurd. She's tired of fighting for this man who doesn't give a damn, but still has the pride to throw a tantrum when he's the one who always pushes her aside when she tries to be a little sentimental about them both. The panic she felt on the way here from Will's turns into a nervous frenzy. After months of her being the one to take it, what right does he have to yell at her? Nights imagining he's screwing every woman he meets when he goes on tour for his fights, yet she says nothing. When he cancels on her to go and practice, she still says nothing. When he shows up at her home after a night out with his buddies, and there's a whiff of female perfume on him, she shuts up. She shuts up every time he disrespects her. Because they're having fun. Because she wasn't supposed to fall in love. Because she knew what she was getting into with an ex-military man who takes out his trauma by doing all sort of shitty things. Damn, he makes a living out of getting his ass kicked! "You gonna tell me who he is?" That's it. She never asks. Never. So, he can just fuck off.

"Who cares? We're just having fun, right?" Ben's jaw drops. "Wha...?" But she holds out her palm to silence him. "No. We're just having fun; those are your words. I never say anything when you turn up at my house drunk and reeking of cheap women's perfume. I don't think your mates wear that, do they?" Ben releases his grip on her shoulders and the blood that rushes back in sends a tingling sensation through her fingers. "You fuck other girls than me, why can't I do the same?" "That's not..." He looks confused, incredibly surprised that she's upset with him. After all, this is a first. She's never been one to get angry, at least not openly. But now the jar is overflowing, and she has to express herself. All these bottled-up feelings have been eating at her for months. "Was that the first time?" Both her eyebrows fly up. "First time what, Benjamin?" He hates being called by his full first name, so his jaw ticks. "The first time you chea..." he runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly exhausted. "You fucked another guy?" "Does it matter? Should I ask you how many times you've slept with other girls?" He lets himself fall back onto the small sofa in her student room. "I have no fucking idea..." Not for a second does he try to defend himself or deny it. Has he no shame? "Then I don't understand, Ben, I don't understand why you're angry. Why is it that what you do goes unpunished and I..." Her eyes fill with tears as the adrenaline begins to wear off and she feels the pain take over. "I, no actual sex even happened, and you make me feel like I should bear all the crimes in this world..."

Ben throws his head back, exhaling slowly through his nose, and she knows he's trying to calm down. “I hate the idea of another man touching you,” he says. She snorts and shakes her head in disbelief. "What about me? Don't you think I hate the fact that you sleep with strangers and then come to my bed with no remorse?" His head whips to the right to meet her gaze. "I don't sleep with them." Rolling her eyes, she sets her purse on the entry console and stares at her fingers, tapping the wood in annoyance. "Oh? Humor me then, you're playing checkers, aren't you?" Ben doesn't seem to be joking. "I don't sleep with them! I barely touch them; it's just... release." She tears herself away from looking at her nails and turns her attention to the blonde with eyes like saucers. "Excuse me?" A long sigh, and Ben buries his face in his hands. In any other situation, she would have given in to his obvious struggle to find the words to explain his feelings and his way of thinking, but not tonight. "Listen, baby, it's complicated." She folds her arms. "Whatever, I want to hear it." The look he gives her is one of anguish, as if he's silently begging her not to force him to open Pandora's box. He shifts on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. "Have a seat." She just shakes her head. "I'm fine where I am." He meets her gaze, then smiles, a pained, broken expression that crushes her heart. She could just leave it there, let the night pass, tell him everything is all right. The part of her that is in love with this man demands just that, but her pride and her need to understand wish for the opposite. "My brain is all mush, you know. And I do stupid things all the time." He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed, holding the bridge of his nose. "No, it's not..." "Take your time." The empathy in her voice reaches Benny with deafening clarity. His gratitude shows when he looks at her again. Rubbing his palms against his thighs, he continues. "The war. I've killed guys like me, fighting for their country. Over there, it's all about survival, killing, fear, stress, rage. Raw emotions, brutal drives, and we don't need to control them."

He takes a deep breath, his left hand shaking uncontrollably, so he grabs it with his right to stop it. "Trauma manifests itself differently for each soldier. Some sink into alcohol or drugs. Some do everything to help others, some keep everything inside. I?  I have to release everything. I can't keep all that shit inside, I'd go crazy, you know?" Ben waits for her to nod before he continues, his voice cracking, his breath short. "Fighting helps me, going for a run in the morning helps me, eating, laughing, playing video games, kissing you..."  His jaw twitches. "But you see, baby, you see, I care about you so much. I want to be with you all the time, kiss you all the time, have you all to myself all the time... " The more he talks, her mind screams in disbelief. Why turn her down if he loves being with her so much? Why stick to 'just having fun'? But Ben is oblivious to her thoughts and carries on. "I can't listen to my own feelings... my love will burn your wings. I don't wanna hurt you. So, I..." "Wait, what did you just say?" Her heart pounds in her throat. He said he loved her, didn't he? This is a fucking joke. He seems to understand and looks away. "Yeah, I..." he seems to be looking anywhere in the room but in her direction as he confesses sheepishly. "I have feelings for you."

A hiccup mixed with a sob takes her by surprise and she covers the lower part of her face with a hand as the tears overwhelm her. Nothing makes sense. "Why? Why didn't you say anything?" He stands but she recoils, cowering. "Why did you wait all this time to fucking say it?"

His eyes cloud as he moves closer, hand outstretched. "I thought it was better for you." She breaks down at his words, hot tears soaking her angry face. "Better for me? Who the hell do you think you are? Making decisions for me?" She almost yells now, to hell with the bitchy neighbor. "Look, I'm sorry..." He whispers her name, lost for words. She rolls her eyes in frustration. It's time to end this nightmare of a night. "What's next? Now, that you've finally lowered yourself enough to confess something so crucial to our relationship. Does telling me you love me mean you want us to be a couple?" There's a silence as she cries softly, tears running down her cheeks, Ben stares at the floor and it clicks in her head before she gets his answer. Finally, after endless seconds, the blonde shakes his head no, "I'm so-," but she doesn't give him time to finish. Her hand raises on its own, and the slap echoes deafeningly in the now silent room. The dizziness over, she turns away, her eyes blank. "Fuck off." Ben calls her name again, but she gives him no time to elaborate. "No. I don't want to hear it. Get the hell out!" The wait feels endless as she turns her head away from him, tears drying on her skin. Finally, a weak "okay" escapes his lips before the door closes. She holds her breath, the weight of his rejection pressing down on her chest like a boulder. Her heart, already shattered by the revelation that the man she longed for reciprocated her feelings but refused to commit to her, feels like it's splintering into pieces. In this moment of despair, she wants nothing more than to bury herself, to disappear from the world where such pain exists. Tears stream down her cheeks, unchecked, as she buries her head in her hands. This feels like breakup, the end of a love she never truly had, and the raw vulnerability etched in her skin after that is unbearable. Her world is crumbling.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As the hours stretched into days, she found herself retreating further into the confines of her home. Every day, the persistent buzzing of her phone echoed through her quiet room, a reminder that the outside world was asking for her attention. Ben's name flashed across the screen followed by Will's, but she couldn't bring herself to answer. The weight of heartbreak hung heavy around her, suffocating her. Nights also blurred into days, curled up in her bed, seeking solace in the mindless distraction of films and TV shows. After a week of silence, the frequency of Ben’s texts dwindled, his attempts to reach out fading. But Will remained steadfast, his messages pinging through her phone every couple of hours. She felt herself slipping from raw hurt to sorrow. The once vibrant sparkle in her eyes faded to a lifeless gaze, obscured by the heavy bags that hung beneath them like shadows that no amount of concealer can hide.

And then, after two agonizing weeks of silence, she read Will's final message. His words, a gentle reminder of his unwavering support, stirred something in her.

[I don't know what your situation is, but I understand if you don't want to answer. Things will get better. I'll be here for you whenever you're ready for my support.]

Sweet Will, she thought, the words reaching her face as a slight smile curled her lips. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to entertain the possibility of pressing the call button, but her thumb stayed an inch away, unable to actually do it.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It's been a month since the fight with Ben. She has half recovered and is slowly moving on with her life, although there is still a dull pain in her chest that she can't seem to shake. As she turns into the cereal aisle, her mind on her shopping list, she is suddenly stopped by the sight of a familiar figure. There, is Will, his presence unexpected yet strangely comforting amidst the hustle and bustle of the supermarket. The surprise on Will's face mirrors her own as their eyes meet. At that moment, she is acutely aware of her disheveled appearance - no make-up to hide her very pale skin tone, her hair pulled in a careless bun, and the telltale signs of sleepless nights still lingering under her eyes. For a fleeting moment, panic threatens to consume her. She's caught off guard, unprepared to face him in such a state. But then, in a rush of reckless abandon, she gives in to the overwhelming impulse coursing through her veins. With trembling hands, she lets go of what she's holding, letting the objects clatter to the floor, forgotten in the wake of her mad longing. In one swift movement, she closes the distance between them and pulls him into a tight embrace. As her arms wrap around his waist, the soft cotton of his T-shirt brushes against her cheek and she feels a surge of warmth flood her senses. But as the seconds tick by, reality comes crashing back with a jolt. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, her heart beating erratically in her chest. It's as if she's woken from a dream, disoriented, and confused by her own actions. She slowly lifts her head, pulling back at the same time, and meets Will's gaze, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I..."

With a faraway look in her eyes, she tries in vain to think of what to say, what excuse to give him for her long silence, but nothing comes. Her cheeks flush, her irises refusing to meet the man's calm eyes who still hasn't spoken. A thin smile spreads across his face, setting his bearded jaw in the face of her obvious disarray. She would have had a thousand times more time to push him away and run, if only she'd wanted to. But she doesn't move when he envelops her in a warm, soothing bear hug. "I thought you were a dream." Her eyes widen at the words and her bottom lip quivers. She feels such a relief, her face pressed against the soft cotton of his sweater, that she finally allows herself to let go and spill out all the pain from her heart. Holding on to him like a lifeline, the tears soon overflow, and she begins to cry like a child who's just fallen off her bike. She's pitiful, her groceries all over the shop floor, looking terrible, crying all her sorrow into the shoulder of the one she's deliberately ignored. Her whole body is pressed against this wall of a man, one large hand at the back of her head, the other pressed firmly against the small of her back. She doesn't know exactly how long, but until her tears stop, Will keeps whispering reassurances, rocking her slowly. Finally, still struggling to breathe, she reluctantly pulls herself back. The hand behind her back joins its twin to cradle her head, its thumbs stroking her wet cheeks. "Do you feel like you're ready to talk?" He utters the words carefully, as if defusing a bomb. Given recent events, a negative response would not be surprising, but a smile spreads across the blonde`s lips as she nods. "My place is a bit of a mess," and that was an understatement; she had had the courage to throw out the trash and remove the soiled tissues from her room, but she hadn't cleaned in over a month, and sure as her nose had gotten used to it, she wasn't quite sure about the smell in her home. "But we can go to your place if you want?" "Yeah."

Sitting at Will's kitchen bar, nursing a glass of water in silence, she chills at the tense atmosphere in the room. The owner of the house is leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, his own glass of water to his right. She gives the perfect illusion of being captivated by her glass, while stress eats away at her insides. Throwing herself into the lion's den like this was too much for her, and now that the intense emotions from the grocery store had subsided, she was unable to face the man in the room. "Can I start?" The request surprises her. What does he mean by "start"? He hadn't done anything wrong. How could he have guessed the chaos of her relationship with Benny? Her lack of response prompts Will to carry on, and for the first time in a long while, he throws himself into an equation where he doesn't know all the variables. "What's happened between us..." he swallows thickly, "I'm aware that our relationship has taken a rather unexpected turn, I'm also aware that things happened too soon and maybe you even forced yourself to avoid upsetting me." The outburst left her speechless. "I ask your forgiveness for my behavior." A hiccup of anguish escapes her and she covers her mouth with one hand, emotions overtaking her once again. Will looks down at his feet, obviously apprehensive, and uncomfortable with the situation. The realization that he'd surely been torturing himself all along, thinking he was the one to blame, hits her like a fret train. She'd been so, so stupid. Even in her pain, she should never have dismissed him so brutally, without explanation, without sensitivity. Noticing how he's affected her, Will apologies again. But she cuts him off. "Stop, stop, don't apologize anymore, please." Her voice is plaintive, almost a sob. "It's not-," she senses she's about to break down again, so she takes a deep breath before speaking again. "This is a big misunderstanding, Will. I-" He raises his eyebrows in disbelief before smiling gently. "There is none, I know I made a horrible thing, that's why..." She slams her hands down on the table, silencing him instantly. "Please, let me finish. Please…"

Will raises both hands in acceptance, now listening. "I just need you to listen all the way through. I'll tell you when I'm done, but until then, please don't interrupt."  He nods, a neutral expression on his face. "Thank you." "You're welcome." Her back straight, she fidgets with her fingers before burying her hands in her jacket pockets. "I was out of line, I should never have had the reaction I did, because none of it was your fault. I didn't handle it well, and the proof is that in the end you convinced yourself that it was all your fault..." She feels a lump form in her throat and the weight of what follows falls on her stomach. It's painful to talk. "The truth is, I'm the one to blame. I'm an awful person." Their eyes meet and she can see Will's need to disagree with her without a single word escaping his lips. "When we first met at the supermarket, there was someone else in my life. I was with someone else." Will's jaw juts out as he clenches his teeth. "Yet, the more time I spent with you, the more I realized that I wasn't happy with this guy, that I was being destroyed by this relationship...   I was with him, and then I started thinking about you, and nothing around me had any taste anymore.“ She sighs deeply. ”That night, when I stormed out, I ended it all. I haven't seen him since, nor have I returned his calls. But I was too scared to come back to you, afraid of your rejection, scared you'd be angry with me. I acted foolishly. This is me saying I’m sorry, Will. Sorry for playing both sides. Sorry for being selfish." Anticipating his immediate request for her to leave, she raises her head inquisitively. However, the blonde remains motionless, though his entire frame is as taut as a drawn bow. His knuckles, clenched tightly against the countertop's edge, reveal his intense grip with how white they are. Then, a recollection strikes her—she had instructed him to not interrupt until she concluded her explanations. The unexpected compliance from this army captain baffles her. "I’m done." Suddenly, Will lets go of his hold on the counter, his hands pulsating with blood, tantalizing veins throbbing beneath the skin.

A tense minute elapses as he fixes his gaze upon her, seemingly contemplating her fate. The silence becomes almost unbearable, leaving her uncertain whether she should add anything to break the deadlock she has caused. Yet, Will relieves her of this burden, his voice maintaining its characteristic calm and warmth, as if there were no looming issue at hand. "I don't believe you are," he asserts. A furrow forms on her brow before he elaborates, "You've been speaking in the past tense all along. How about what you feel now? About what you truly wish to reach me? And I don’t want to hear more apologies." A new silence envelops them as she absorbs his words. "I don't—" "Try," he cuts off. His unwavering gaze unsettles her, stirring a twinge of envy at his remarkable composure. She wishes she could maintain such control and not succumb to tears so easily. "It took me some time to heal. I ended that self-destructive relationship, yet the pain remained unabated," she admits. Will offers a gentle smile. "It signifies it truly mattered to you." She nods, suppressing a sob, mindful of how memories of Ben still sting. "I don't believe I've entirely moved on, but I'm making strides, at my own pace." His steadfast gaze unnerves her. She knows his intentions are pure, yet the intensity of his undivided attention feels overwhelming. "As for my current emotions..." She presses her lips together, striving to maintain composure, but her voice quivers, betraying her vulnerability. "...All I know is that I need you, that I care so much for you." Will straightens, taking a step towards her. "Yeah?" he asks. "Yes," she confirms. "You certain?" he double-checks. "I am," she asserts. His gaze momentarily clouds over. Will possesses a knack for maintaining a stoic demeanor, yet the emotions flickering in his eyes betray him. "I need to kiss you," he admits. Need? Her cheeks flush. Will crosses the distance between them, and being in the lion's den has never made more sense than now. "Am I allowed love?" Tilting her head to meet his gaze from her seated position, a thrill of anticipation courses through her. "Yes."

The kiss is nothing short of a revelation—slow and purposeful. In Will, she discovers the stability she craves. His hands firmly grasp the back of her thighs, lifting her onto the bar, elevating her above him. It's almost amusing to witness Will Miller crane his head to meet her lips. Her hands trace the contours of his neck and broad shoulders, clutching the collar of his sweater as he presses his body between her legs, hips aligning seamlessly. As their lips part briefly for her to catch her breath, she murmurs, her voice punctuated by rapid pants, "Want you." Will lets out a derisive snort. "Weren't we in agreement that things were moving too quickly betw—" She cuts him off swiftly. "I never agreed to that," her breath teasing his ear-shell as she whispers smoothly, "Now, I really, really want you." The audible gulp as Will swallows and a low grunt follows her words. "Where do you want it?", his tone and demeanor shift, becoming markedly more serious, like a man with a mission. "Right here, right now," she responds without hesitation. Burning kisses and ravaging hands make her pussy throb hard. Will seems to want to stretch the moment, take his time. Yet, she has waited long enough; she craves him now, yearning to merge their body together. Her fingers weave between their entwined bodies, her legs crossed at the small of his back, as she deftly undoes the buckle of his belt. Will lets her without protesting. As her fingertips slip under the elastic of his underwear after popping the button on his jeans, he takes a step back, his expression turning serious. "You're acting spoiled,” She feigns a pout before a playful smile graces her lips. "But you're the one who spoils me constantly, you've made me this way..." Absentmindedly, she strokes his leg with her foot, averting her gaze. "You hate it?" Will slightly purses his lips. "I didn't say that, love." Her eyes dart back to him, diving into his abysmal gaze. An amusing idea strikes her—she eagerly anticipates discovering the true Will, when he sheds his perpetually calm facade and surrenders control to the beast lurking behind his eyes, visible only when he believes no one is watching.

Ensuring his gaze is firmly fixed on her, she retorts, "Would you prefer it if I begged?" The blonde rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "Quit teasing like that." His eyes reflect his lighthearted mood. However, her intentions are far from humorous. Slowly, her foot runs up to his hip, applying pressure to coax him to step back, affording her space enough to hop off the counter. With a fluid motion, she takes off her hoodie, followed by her bra, which quietly falls to the floor. "Please, Will..." With a soft pop, the button on her jeans yields, and after a few movements, the garment cascade down to her ankles. "I'm pleading with you. Fuck me, please…" The seconds stretch to the point of surrealism, the steady ticking of the kitchen clock louder with each beat. Eyes riveted on the spectacle unfolding before her, she witnesses a momentary breach in Will's stoic facade. A smirk, rare and fleeting, quirks his lips. Yet, it vanishes almost as quickly as it appears, leaving her to wonder if it was ever real. His voice is raspy as he responds to her pleas. "It’s a dangerous game you’re playing at, honey." His tone is stern, almost reprimanding, yet the underlying authority ignites the familiar thread of arousal within her. With her thumbs hooked in her panties, she holds up his gaze. "I'm not afraid, Will," she asserts smoothly, her tongue caressing his name. She is genuine; she trusts this man with her life: she knows that just one word from her, and he would stop. The staring lingers, but she knows she is conquering when the mental restrains Will has bound around himself cracks, altering his gaze completely. To an outsider, the shift might be unnoticeable, but she is no ordinary observer. The change in his demeanor is evident: he's going to ruin her.

His jaw locks as he pins her firmly against the countertop. "Remember: you brought this upon yourself,". She barely has a moment to nod before he claims her mouth. "Claim" is the word; his kiss is commanding and fervent, leaving her breathless and flushed in an instant. Despite the near brutality it, he remains deliberate and focused, his tongue taking control. His large hands grip and squeeze her hips as he ravages her mouth. One hand descends to her buttock, briefly kneading it before the sound of tearing fabric echoes in the room. She gasps, feeling her panties dig into her skin before they give way, falling to shreds on the floor. "Stay still," he commands before swiftly disappearing down the corridor. Despite her confusion, which fails to register in her panting mind, her legs like Jell-O now that he’s not holding her anymore. Naked and vulnerable in Will's kitchen while he remains fully clothed, she doesn't question whether she should have followed him. The captain in him doesn't often show himself, but when he does, he commands respect and she's irrationally terrified of disobeying.  When Will returns, he’s holding a condom packet, effortlessly tearing off its corner. His predatory gaze peers down at her slowly as he instructs, "Turn around, love." Obedience had never felt so easy. Turning her back to him, she complies, her breath catching as he guides her forward with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. Braced on her forearms on the countertop, its edge presses into her belly, its chill contrasting sharply as her nipples graze its surface. The faint sound of the belt buckle tapping against his jeans button, followed by a subtle latex snap, an involuntary moan leaves her mouth as he slides two fingers between her folds, tracing from clit to hole. A mixture of a grunt and a sigh escapes him. "How the fuck can you be this ready when I've barely touched you?" "I—" Her attempt to respond is cut short as his hand covers her mouth. His thumb tenderly caresses her jaw as his shaft slides languidly between her thighs and strokes her pussy. A violent shiver runs through her at this simple contact, and she squirms in his grip, trying to get some semblance of relief. "Safe word is tangerine, understood?" She nods quickly, and his cock slides backwards, making her eyes roll back in her head in extasy.

"You're doing so good..." His praise ignites the fire on her cheeks. With his tip notched at her entrance, she tenses with anticipation, arching her back in eagerness. "You bragged about begging, didn't you?"" His voice, husky, deep and raw, is laced with the distinct Texan accent that emerges when he speaks with commanding authority, reminiscent of the captain he once was. Slowly, his hand withdraws from her face, joining the other on her hips, their grip ensuring she cannot move of her own anymore. He's taken full control now. "Why don't you demonstrate?" In the next moment, all she feels is the cool air of the room against her pussy. Why the hell did he step back? Then his words finally make sense in her lust-fogged brain. Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, the heat in her cheeks intensifies. This man is a constant source of frustration. "Oh God, are you- for real?" Impatience overrides reason, and she flinches in surprise when Will grips the back of her neck, as though she's an unruly kitten. "Did it sound like a joke to you?" His fingers press into her skin, causing a painful flutter of her pussy. "Sorry, I’m sorry," she manages to stammer out, more of a pathetic whimper than a coherent response. Squirming slightly, she adjusts herself on the pristine surface of the bar. She can feel her arousal shamelessly trickling between her thighs, the situation unnaturally arousing. "Please, Will, I’m begging you." His grip on her neck tightens. "Begging for what, love?" That cute nickname almost causes her to roll her eyes at its irony, but she's too preoccupied to do so and her mouth takes over. "Please, I want you to make love to me." "How precisely?" Won’t he stop fucking around? She didn't anticipate that the blond would relish tormenting her like this. "I—" He leans in, his voice low and commanding, articulating each word slowly as he whispers in her ear. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, use your words well, love." The more he toys with her, like a cat with its prey, the more she's on edge. She craves his fucking cock desperately.

Her lips tremble as she closes her eyes, exhaling slowly through her nose to prevent herself from stumbling over some vague words and making a fool of herself. Will appreciates a job well done; if she doesn't exert herself, he won't give her what she wants. When she finally opens her eyes, her entire body hums with a mixture of anticipation and shame. "I want – uh - I need you t-to push your cock inside me, and I want you to—" Finally, finally, she feels his cock teasing her folds deliciously, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "Want me to what, love?” Biting her lip in frustration and restraining herself from uttering something foolish, she shudders again as his tip nudges against her entrance. "I want—" she breathes out. "Louder, love." She whines, "I want you to fuck me so good I'll be ruined for anyone else." A chuckle. "Was that so hard to confess?" The next moment, he's buried deep inside her, stretching her to her limits, and she moans, enraptured, her arms giving way beneath her instantly. Throughout the two orgasms he elicits from her, throughout his tyrannical thrusts, and the moans she can't stifle, her cheek remains pressed against the countertop. The next morning, when she gazes in the mirror, she finds purplish fingerprints etched on her hips and thighs, her intimacy raw and tender, and her voice hoarse, yet her smile has never been brighter.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"We're going to be late, you know," she laughs. Will responds with a grumpy grunt and pulls her closer, burying his face in her hair. "I'll call Pope and let him know you're feeling under the weather..." She reaches behind her to affectionately stroke his hair. "Your friends have been eager to meet me for so long... it would be mean to cancel, baby." There's a moment of silence, and she wonders if he's drifted off, but he finally responds. "...I couldn't care less." "Well, I do." With considerable effort, and Will reluctantly giving in, she untangles herself from the bed and heads straight for the shower, the smell of sex clinging to her skin. Will had brought her to climax with his tongue, fingers, and cock, and even after being together for over five months, she still marvels at how effortlessly he learned her body. He knows every detail that turns her on, as well as all the subtle signs that reveal her daily emotions: hunger, frustration, stress... They've moved beyond the stage of love confessions. Will had said ‘I love you’ first, and he had been patient, not pressuring her, until she had reciprocated. But like a possessive dragon, Will prefers to keep her to himself and doesn't enjoy sharing her with the world. Initially, he had coldly rejected his friends' requests to meet her, but after weeks of resistance, the blond had finally relented, and today was the day: a barbecue at Pope's place, whose real name is Santiago, and Yovanna, Pope's pregnant fiancée.

She's applying makeup when Will finally emerges from bed, his Adonis-like physique dragging him into the bathroom. Will had never been one to laze around or linger in bed, but with her, he seemed content to do so. The sound of water fills the shower as he grumbles, "Is the water always this damn hot?" before adjusting the temperature with the cold-water tap. She chuckles softly, finishing to apply her eyeliner. The list of potential criticisms from Will's friends was extensive: their significant age gap, her decision to move in with him after just five weeks, or his covering of all her expenses until she completed art school... but her choice of outfit today wouldn't be among them. Opting for a demure floral dress paired with sandals, her hair cascading elegantly down her back, she hopes to look mature enough. After all, these people are all older than her, and she refuses to be perceived as the naive young girlfriend clinging to her older partner's arm. The car ride is fraught with anxiety for her, a tension that Will senses right away. He reaches for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and traces comforting shapes with his thumb on her skin. "You'll be fine, love. You're gorgeous and smart. And, above all, I love you, so they'll surely adore you too." Will's nonchalant demeanor eventually begins to reassure her. He's dressed in black pants, a white T-shirt topped with an unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt, effortlessly handsome as always. His natural allure fills her with pride, knowing she's the one he's chosen to share his life with. If he's chosen her, then she must be worthy; she trusts his judgment. These thoughts lighten her mood, and she smiles as he helps her step out of the car.

Yovanna is lively and witty with the boys, but in her presence, she's gentle and endearing. Surprisingly, there's a warm camaraderie among them, devoid of any judgment, contrary to her apprehensions. Pope is the charming type, punctuating their interactions with exaggerated winks that seem to amuse him even more as they increasingly annoy Will. Then there's Frankie, shorts for Francisco, resembling a soft teddy bear, quiet but with a depth of emotion in his eyes. His one-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Mena, gurgles contentedly in his arms. From their conversation, she gathers that his girlfriend Roxanne is a nurse and is on duty today. The scent of barbecue fills the air as she engages in conversation with Yovanna, exchanging smiles and playful expressions with Mena to elicit giggles. And then... time stands still as Pope and Frankie suddenly exclaim loudly, and a voice she never expected to hear again echoes through the air. "Ben, hermano" Pope offers him a warm embrace. "You're late cabrón," adds Frankie. "Yeah, I know." The slow drawl of his voice stirs something deep within her, but she resolutely stays by Will's side, resisting the urge to flee and hide. "You okay?" Will's voice, a soft whisper against her neck, catches her off guard. She could have done without his uncanny perceptiveness at that moment; of course, he senses her tension, like a bow drawn taut. "I was just startled by Pope's sudden shout. Sorry..." Her voice wavers slightly, betraying her inner turmoil. Will offers her a reassuring smile, but inside, she feels a surge of dread as the truth looms closer—mere seconds before he might recoil from her touch, before he might never want to see her again before he might hate her forever. "I thought you had relaxed, but it seems you're still stressed," he observes, his tone gentle. She hums in response, then gently cups his jaw, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Will's eyebrow quirks slightly; he knows she isn't fond of public displays of affection. Still, he returns her kiss, his hands finding her hips. "Get a room, you two" Pope quips. Will gives him the middle finger as an answer, smiling playfully. Then they face the newcomer, and the lump in her throat grows heavier, waves of nausea threatening to overwhelm her. Surprise mingled with confusion flashes in Benny's eyes, but he remains oddly silent as his gaze scrutinizes her, lingering accusatory on Will's hand, casually resting on her hip. "Hi, Ben," Will's tone carries a hint of unease, but her mind struggles to register it amidst the petrifying fear, desperately fighting to suppress the rising panic and tears. Ben's jaw tightens momentarily, a subtle reaction that she notices, though Will seems oblivious. The tension in the air dissipates as Ben forces a casual smile, but it fails to reach his eyes, and the pain she discerns there hits her like a blow to the stomach. "Aren't you going to introduce me, brother?" His words strike confusion in her, yet she catches one last glimpse of Ben's gaze before he averts his eyes.

Throughout the day, Will keeps his focus solely on her, though his eyes are veiled, and his jaw remains locked. As he strokes her back fondly, kissing her shoulder, he forces himself to bear with the situation. There's always been a reason why he refused to introduce her to his friends—a fear of what his unpredictable brother would do then. Yet, it's apparent that her happiness still matters to Ben, given his brother’s efforts to maintain a façade of normalcy.

Yeah.

She doesn't need to know that Will knew about her and his brother.