12. Chapter 12

Chapter twelve

Present

“ S omeone’s in a bad mood,” Laelia’s voice slices through the haze of my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. I roll over and fix my gaze on the door, where she stands, a vision of commanding elegance. Dressed in a sleek pencil skirt, a crisp white shirt, and black heels that seem designed to make her legs look even more irresistible, she commands my full attention. Her posture is flawless, her stance confident.

I prop myself up on my elbows and let my eyes trail down her body, savouring every curve. “Well, my mood is definitely improving now,” I say, my smirk widening. The words barely escape my lips before my gaze returns to her legs, each step she takes drawing me deeper into a trance.

As she glides towards me, her presence seems to bend the very air around us, making it heavy with anticipation. She hovers in front of me, and for a moment, it feels like I’m living out every teenage fantasy—caught between the desire to submit and the urge to dominate. My lips part, and I lick them involuntarily.

As if she can read my mind, she chuckles softly, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. With deliberate grace, she releases her hair from its bobble, letting it cascade around her face in loose, seductive waves. Her eyes lock onto mine with a mischievous glint as she begins to unbutton the top three buttons of her shirt, each movement slow and tantalising. My pulse quickens as her actions stir a growing tension beneath my jeans.

The black lace of her bra peeks out from beneath her open shirt, a teasing glimpse of what lies beneath. Black lace—my absolute favourite—almost as if she’s aware of every detail that drives me wild. The sight makes my pants tighten uncomfortably.

In a bold move, she swings one leg over me, straddling my lap. The shift in her position offers me a fleeting but tantalising view of the lace thong she’s wearing, further fuelling the fire within me. This woman is going to be the end of me, I think, as she starts to grind against me, her movements slow and deliberate.

I sit up, and she doesn’t budge. My hands find her thighs, sliding up under her skirt with deliberate slowness. When my hands hover near her hips, she lifts herself just enough for me to bunch her skirt up, exposing her full, enticing form. I trail my fingers up her legs as she continues to grind, her moans growing louder with each movement.

Unable to resist any longer, I stand up, causing her to wrap her legs around my waist. I gently lower her onto the bed, hovering over her. Her eyes sparkle with a mix of defiance and longing.

“Anything I can do to make your mood even better?” she asks, her voice a sultry whisper. I lean closer, our lips almost touching as I stroke her chin with my knuckle. “I can think of a few things,” I murmur, just before our lips meet.

Our kiss deepens instantly, her tongue exploring mine with a fierce passion. When I finally pull away, she whimpers, but the sound quickly turns into a moan as I trail kisses down her neck, sucking gently, making sure to leave my mark.

“I’m down for whatever you have planned,” she breathes between moans. Her fingers dig into my hair as I suck harder on her neck, nipping the tender skin and eliciting another, louder moan. Our breathing grows ragged as I let my hands explore her body.

My fingers trace over the softness of her skin, each touch making her gasp and squirm. I ignore her shirt, tearing it open with a swift, powerful motion. Buttons scatter across the room, and she gasps in surprise.

“Fuck,” she moans as I caress her exposed breasts, kneading them with rough, eager hands. Our eyes lock, and the desire in her gaze is almost palpable. With a rush of adrenaline, I yank her black lace bra down, revealing her pert, erect nipples. My mouth waters as I take one into my mouth, feeling her body arch towards me, desperate for more.

Her moans spur me on as I use my free hand to pinch and roll her other nipple, making her cry out in pleasure. “Killian,” she gasps, her voice pleading. The room suddenly feels cooler, a shiver running through me as if something is amiss, but I shove the thought aside, focusing entirely on the intoxicating woman beneath me.

Kissing my way back up to her lips, she moans into the kiss, her voice trembling with need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea. I pull back slightly, taking in her flushed, lust-filled expression. Without wasting a second, I rip my t-shirt off and throw it aside, eager to continue.

She sits up, her hands roaming over my abs, sending shivers down my spine. Her touch makes my jeans feel painfully tight, and I let out a groan as she smiles triumphantly. Her hands continue their descent until she’s gripping my erection through my jeans. The firm pressure makes me moan, and I quickly undo my belt, tossing it away.

As soon as my jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped, her hand slides down, gripping my cock with a firm, steady motion. My breathing becomes laboured as she strokes me, each movement driving me wild. I push her back onto the bed and hover over her, her touch still relentless and exhilarating.

Running my hand down her chest, I watch her eyes lock with mine, filled with desire. I trace my fingers over her lace thong, feeling the heat radiate from her. Her expression makes it clear—she wants me, and she wants me now.

I press my lips against hers, slipping a finger under her thong, feeling the wetness that’s already soaked through. “So wet and ready for me. I love how you get like this for me,” I groan, my voice rough with need.

She moans at my words, her body clenching around my finger as I add another, pushing deeper. Her moans quicken, each sound more urgent than the last. “Oh, fuck,” she cries out, her body trembling with pleasure.

As she nears her climax, her hands claw at my back, her body arching in desperate pleasure. Her moans become a frantic, rhythmic chant, each cry pushing me to drive my fingers deeper, faster. “Right there,” she cries out, her voice nearly breaking.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps, and I quicken the pace, feeling her body tighten around my fingers. “I’m so close,” she moans, her voice trembling with anticipation.

“Come for me, beautiful. Come around my fingers as they fuck you faster,” I growl between breaths, my own need nearly overwhelming.

Her body responds with an intense shudder as she reaches her peak, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. She clamps down around my fingers, her entire form quivering as she cries out, her release washing over her in waves. I keep my fingers moving, prolonging her pleasure until she finally grabs my hand, pulling it away, her breath coming in frantic gasps.

Without a word, she reaches down and yanks my jeans and boxers off in one swift motion, making my cock spring free. Her eyes light up with a predatory gleam, and she licks her lips, clearly intent on taking control now.

“Your turn,” she breathes heavily, her voice thick with need.

But just as things are about to escalate further, a series of sharp knocks echoes through the house. My heart sinks, and I feel a wave of frustration crash over me.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

I freeze, the intrusion slicing through the charged atmosphere. “Ignore it,” she says, her hand still gripping me, but the irritation is clear in her voice.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

The knocking continues relentlessly, and she shifts, a frown creasing her forehead. “They will go away,” she insists, but her frustration is palpable.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

She sits up, looking at me with a resigned sigh. “Go and answer it,” she says, clearly annoyed.

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly pull my boxers and jeans back up, fastening them hastily. I storm out of the room and down the stairs, my annoyance growing with each step. I zip my jeans and button them as I move, the urgency of the situation adding to my frustration.

Reaching the front door, I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I yank the door open, only to find Andrea, our elderly neighbour, standing there with a tray of lasagne wrapped in cellophane. Her kind, wrinkled face lights up with a smile that instantly softens my irritation.

“Hi, Andrea,” I manage with a weak smile.

“Hello, lovely. Sorry for knocking, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” she says, her voice as warm as ever.

Despite my annoyance at the interruption, Andrea’s presence has a way of making everything seem better. She and her late husband, Fredrick, had welcomed us into the neighbourhood with open arms. Their kindness had made them like family to us.

Andrea had been our first friend in the neighbourhood, inviting us over for Sunday roasts that had been some of the best we’d ever tasted. When Fredrick passed away two years ago, Andrea had been alone, and we’d done our best to support her, inviting her over for tea and sharing stories of Fredrick.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turn to see Laelia, now wearing a long t-shirt and bunny slippers, with Meatball, our cat, padding up beside her.

Andrea looks down at Meatball with affection. “Hello, beautiful little boy. Are you looking after your daddy?” she asks, her gaze then returning to me. “I just wanted to bring you something to make sure you’re looking after yourself. I know what it’s like.”

“Know what what’s like?” Laelia asks, her tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.

“Here,” Andrea says, extending the dish towards me, pointedly ignoring Laelia’s question.

I take the tray from her, smiling in appreciation. “Would you like to come in and have some with us?” I offer, but she shakes her head.

“I would love to come and eat with you both,” she says, crouching down to give Meatball a gentle scratch behind the ears. “But I’m going to go visit Fredrick.” She looks up at me with a kind, understanding smile.

“Send him our love,” Laelia calls out as Andrea stands, but Andrea doesn’t acknowledge her.

“If you need anything, Killian, come round and we can have a nice cup of tea,” Andrea says warmly.

“Thank you. We’ll come round for one soon,” I reply, watching as she turns and makes her way back down the path to her own house.

I close the door and turn back to Laelia, who’s looking even more perturbed. “Well, that was rude. She ignored me completely,” she huffs, folding her arms over her chest.

“What did you do to annoy Andrea, to make her ignore you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Laelia shrugs, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe she said hello to me this week one morning and I blanked her by mistake?”

“Maybe,” I agree, though I’m not entirely convinced.

I walk past her into the kitchen, placing the tray of lasagne on the counter. “I’ll get us some plates,” I say, opening the cupboard and retrieving two plates and a serving spoon.

As I begin to serve the hot, steaming lasagne, Laelia places her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want any at the moment,” she says, her voice quiet. “I feel sick.”

I stop and turn to her, concern evident in my eyes. I wrap my arms around her, kissing her forehead gently. “Everything okay?” I ask softly.

She sighs, her body relaxing against mine. “I think it’s just the little one and morning sickness still. Even though it’s not just in the mornings,” she says. “Why do they call it morning sickness when it hits you every hour of the day?”

“Well, if it doesn’t start improving soon, I’ll call the doctors for you, okay?” I suggest, gently rubbing her back.

She nods, resting her head against my chest. “I’m just so tired of the sickness and so tired of being tired,” she confides.

“Everything will be okay,” I reassure her, continuing to soothe her with gentle strokes.

“I just have this weird feeling that there’s something wrong, that something’s not right. I’m probably just paranoid, seeing and feeling things that aren’t really there,” she says, her voice tinged with worry.

“How about you go lie down and get some rest? You’ve been pushing yourself with your workload, and maybe that’s contributing,” I suggest.

She pulls back slightly, looking up at me with a tender smile. She stands on her tiptoes and places a soft kiss against my lips. “What about what we were just doing?” she asks with a playful glint in her eye.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “To be continued for when you’re feeling better.”

She smiles at me, and my heart swells. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll have a quick lie down and then I’m going to make you come too.”

I laugh, watching as she slips out of my embrace, swaying her hips as she leaves the room.

“I love you,” I call after her.

“And we love you, always. No matter what or where we are,” she replies, her voice fading as she disappears from view.

As Laelia retreats to the bedroom, I stand in the kitchen, still mulling over Andrea’s unexpected behaviour. The sound of the door closing behind me snaps me back to reality, but the nagging question about Andrea’s treatment of Laelia lingers in my mind.

I scoop the lasagne onto the plates, but my thoughts keep drifting back to the front door. Andrea had always been the epitome of warmth and friendliness, so why had she ignored Laelia so pointedly today?

I place the plates on the counter and start to cover the remaining lasagne. The image of Andrea’s back as she walked away sticks with me, and I can’t help but feel a strange sense of unease. I know Andrea isn’t one to hold grudges or be deliberately rude.

"Maybe it was just a fluke," I mutter to myself, but the nagging doubt refuses to dissipate. I wash my hands and take a deep breath, trying to shake off the discomfort.

Just as I’m about to return to the living room, I hear Laelia’s voice faintly from the bedroom. She’s talking to herself in a low, worried tone. I shake my head, deciding to address this situation later. I need to focus on Laelia and make sure she’s comfortable and at ease.

I grab a glass of water from the kitchen and head towards the bedroom. As I walk, my mind keeps wandering back to Andrea. Why had she completely blanked Laelia? Had she somehow been offended, or was it something else entirely?

I open the bedroom door gently, finding Laelia lying on the bed, her eyes closed as she tries to relax. I set the glass of water on the nightstand and sit down beside her.

“Feeling any better?” I ask softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She opens her eyes and smiles weakly. “A bit. I think the rest will help.”

I sit beside her, my hand resting lightly on her stomach. “You know, I’m really curious about something. Did Andrea say anything to you recently? I mean, it seemed strange how she ignored you just now.”

Laelia looks at me, her brows furrowing slightly. “No, she didn’t mention anything to me. But maybe she was just preoccupied. Sometimes people have off days.”

I nod, though I’m not fully convinced. “Maybe. It just didn’t seem like her to be so... distant. I’ve never seen her act like that before.”

Laelia shrugs. “People are complicated. Maybe it was something personal. Or maybe she just didn’t see me. Sometimes, when I’m feeling unwell, I’m not very attentive either.”

I try to take comfort in her words, but the question lingers at the back of my mind. I lean in and kiss her gently. “Let’s try to focus on getting you something to eat. You need to keep your strength up too.”

“I really don’t have much of an appetite right now,” she murmurs. “Maybe later.”

I slip under the covers and settle in beside her, wrapping my arms around her gently. Her head rests on my chest, and I can feel the soft rise and fall of her breathing. The warmth of her body against mine is comforting, and I let out a contented sigh.

Laelia snuggles closer, her hand resting on my abdomen. I kiss the top of her head and tighten my embrace slightly. “That’s okay. We can just be here together. I’m here for you.”

She looks up at me, her eyes full of gratitude and love. “Thank you. It means a lot to me, especially today. I’ve just been feeling off, and it’s nice to have you close.”

I stroke her hair soothingly, trying to ease any lingering worries she might have. “I’m glad I can be here for you. We’ll take it easy, and everything will get better soon.”