Worth It In The End Ch. 11

I woke up lying in bed. My hair was dry, and I was dressed in my pajamas and covered with a down blanket. The room was dim. I looked at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was just past eight. Whether it was AM or PM I couldn't tell. Closing my eyes again, I struggled to remember how I had ended up here. Slowly I pieced together my confrontation with Stefan from earlier. I couldn't remember all of the specifics, just the anger rising within and draining me. I couldn't recall what happened after that, so I figured I must have passed out. I hadn't slept for more than two hours a night in the past week, and I felt like a new person after my slumber.

Suddenly I heard clanging noises coming from the kitchen. I stiffened immediately, eyes widened and ears perked. However, it didn't sound like someone was breaking in. It sounded like someone was moving around pots and pans in my kitchen. The smell of cooking food filling my nose affirmed this conclusion. I vaguely wondered if my mother or Jack had let themselves in and were cooking some food. Pushing the heavy blanket off of my body, I lowered my feet to the ground. Finding my robe, I stood up and slipped it on, tying it securely around my waist. Opening the door from the bedroom, I looked around the corner to see who was in the kitchen.

Stefan was standing in front of the stove, wearing my apron and cutting something on the counter. I could smell garlic and marinara sauce and the delicious smell of cooking meat. I closed the door behind me, and the sound made him turn.

"I was just wondering if you'd ever wake up," he said, offering me a shy smile.

"Is it morning or night?" I asked, a little surprised at the hoarse sound of my voice. It felt like I hadn't spoken in days.

"It's evening. I'm making dinner... spaghetti and meatballs," he answered, gesturing to the stove. I walked over slowly and joined him in the kitchen.

"It smells wonderful."

"I'm glad... I hope it tastes good, too. I hope you don't mind my doing this... you just look like you haven't eaten in days... I know it's been hard, I just wanted to—" I cut him off by putting a silencing hand on his shoulder. He turned to face me questioningly. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Thank you. This is really sweet." My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. "And yes, I am starving," I said, offering him a smile.

It felt surprisingly good to have someone here. I welcomed his presence; I had not realized how much harder life was for the past week. I dimly realized that some time during my unconscious hours, I forgave him. Just thinking those words made a bit of warmth enter my heart. Did he tell me he loved me yesterday?

I walked over to the other side of the counter and sat down on a bar stool facing him.

"You look better already. You slept for a long time," he said, looking at me appreciatively.

"Do you mean to tell me that it's been a day and not just a few hours?"

"Yeah. I came here to talk to you yesterday," he answered, amused at the realization that dawned on my face.

"Damn. I need to call Beauchamp..." I said, getting up. He reached over and put his hand on my arm, stopping me. I jolted at the sensation of his touch, and he jerked his hand away. "Sorry—I just... I already talked to Beauchamp. I told him you were sick and taking the day off."

"Oh. Thank you," I said, sitting back down on the stool. I was still reeling from his touch. Now, back in my alive state, I realized just how badly I had missed him. Craving more, I reached over and touched his hand. He stopped moving and looked at me, hope and a question in his eyes. "I appreciate it," I said, mustering up a warm smile. He turned his hand over and interlaced his fingers with mine.

"Please don't thank me, Sarah. It's the very least I could do."

We remained silent for a minute or so, holding hands and looking at each other. Unspoken sentences arced between us: questions of forgiveness and answers of love and gratitude. I know I would never forget what happened, but I couldn't bear to let this man out of my life. Forgiveness was the only way forward.

Reluctantly, he let go of my hand and went back to cooking. Every once in a while he'd look up and smile at me, warmth in his eyes and color in his cheeks. I had forgotten how heartbreakingly handsome he was. I found myself smiling back, answering warmth radiating from my body. I was surprised to find myself responding to him physically, expecting to react by recoiling with fear. However, from him, all I felt was love.

With my guidance as to where to find things, he set the table and poured two glasses of red wine. I went back to the bedroom and changed into jeans and a tank top. I picked a tank top that was a bit small so that it exposed part of my midriff, displaying the fading bruises on my hips. I wanted him to see. I wanted to gauge his reaction to see if we really could face it and move forward.

When I went back into the kitchen, he was putting the food onto the plates. Everything smelled so good that my stomach audibly grumbled again. He looked up and saw me, smiling at me. His eyes traveled down my body with warmth until he reached the exposed skin of my midriff. His gaze darkened with what looked like anger, or maybe it was sadness. His eyes flicked back to mine.

"Is the food ready?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered, his features inscrutable. The slight downturn of his lips expressed his inner displeasure. I walked up to him and stood close, putting my hands on his arms to turn him to face me. As I looked into his eyes, I noticed that they were filled with tears.

"What is it?" I asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned his face into my hand, a couple of tears escaping and sliding down his face.

"I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about how I just left and let him... let him do this to you," he traced the bruise on my hip with a shaking hand. I reached down and flattened his palm against it.

"We have to stop thinking about it. He wanted to ruin us by ruining me. Please, don't let him succeed," I whispered. He opened his eyes and looked into mine.

"How can you say these things?"

"I want to heal and move on... with you. Can you do that?"

"Of course," he said brokenly, after a moment.

"Ok. Let's eat," I said, standing on tiptoes and kissing him. I let the kiss linger, running my hands up the familiarly smooth contours of his chest and linking them around his neck. He kissed me back hesitantly, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer. I leaned against him and deepened the kiss. I wanted him to know that I was serious. I wanted him to know that I loved him, too... and with love must come trust. Without one the other can't survive.

I pulled back and smiled at him, hoping what I felt showed in my eyes. He smiled back, as though my message had been received.

After dinner Stefan and I cleaned and chatted comfortably. I could see him start to grow more comfortable around me. His eyes grew less and less clouded with anger and grief when he spied the bruises on my hips. When everything was clean and put away, he went over to the couch and picked up his coat.

"Well, I should be going..."

"Not so fast," I said, walking over to him and taking the coat from his hands. He stayed still, letting me take charge of the situation. "You think I'm going to let you walk out of here that easily?" I asked, trying to be coy and allowing the warmth that had been growing within me all evening to show in my eyes. I stepped closer to him and put my hands on his chest. His heartbeat was strong under his oxford shirt, and I felt his chest rise and fall with the deep breaths he took. I looked up to his face and saw that he had closed his eyes, his jaw muscles clenching. He raised his hands to mine and held onto them.

"If I stay... I don't think —"

"Shh... don't think. All I know is that I need you. Now. Make me forget, Stefan. Please." I pleaded softly. I don't know what had gotten into me, why I was practically forcing myself on the man who left me alone to be raped by my ex-boyfriend... but I was burning with desire for him and I needed to have him. Is this what's called make-up sex? Or is it love-induced blindness?

This time I stayed where I was, waiting for him to make the first move. He eventually let go of my hands and moved his to my face. He opened his eyes and looked deeply into mine. For the first time, I saw the familiar lust-darkened expression cloud his eyes, and I understood his apprehension. I sensed that he wanted deeply to fight back against Gonzalo and claim me; but that he also didn't want to push me in any way I wasn't ready to go. I know that the last thing he wanted was for me to be unwilling and to hurt me. This internal conflict, in some odd way, made me want him all the more.

In an unusually bold move, I took one of his hands and slid it down and around my body until it reached my ass. I took the other and slid it down to one of my breasts, all the while staring into his eyes, which darkened further as lust took over. I stepped forward, closing the gap between us, pressing my body against his. I shuddered and gasped as I felt his erection press into my abdomen, but this time the shudder was in response to a jolt of pleasure. All of a sudden, his mouth was on mine. Gone was the gentle hesitation of before. Now his mouth claimed mine powerfully, his tongue gaining entrance almost immediately. His hands, while not rough, were active on me, squeezing and touching. Then, both hands were on my ass, pulling me towards him forcefully. He grunted into my mouth upon contact.

My hands wound their way up his neck and my fingers were tangled in his hair. I should have been ashamed of the sounds I was making in response to his actions, but I couldn't bring myself to care. His thigh found its way between my legs and he pushed me against him. I ground my pussy against his leg, moaning at the sensation.

All of a sudden, he was gone. I opened my eyes and saw him standing a pace away from me, breathing heavily and watching me with dark eyes. The apprehension had returned. I could tell he regretted losing control. I took this opportunity to grab his hand and walk him to the bedroom. He resisted a little at first and started to say something, but I silenced him with a finger to his lips. He relented and followed me to the bedroom.

Once in the room, I closed the door behind us. He stood uncertainly. I decided that tonight, I had to take charge. Walking forward, I put my hands on his chest again and pushed him towards the bed, a seductive look in my eye. He felt the bed hit the backs of his legs and he sat down. Under the continued pressure of my hands, I eventually got him where I wanted him: lying flat on his back in the center of my bed.

I got on my knees on the bed near his feet. One by one I removed his shoes, tossing them on the ground. His socks were next: I ran my hand up under each pant leg, caressing the lower part of his legs before sliding my hands back down to remove his socks. Once through with those, I locked eyes with him and crawled my way up his body, coming to rest seated on his thighs. Leaning forward, I placed one hand on either side of his head and lowered my face down to his. I traced the outline of his full lips with my tongue, slipping it inside when he opened his mouth. He sucked on my tongue for a few moments, moaning softly when I returned the favor. His cock, pressed snugly against my warm sex, jerked inside his slacks.

I trailed open-mouthed kisses across his jaw and down his throat, stopping to blow on the moistened skin as I went along. His hands slid up my thighs and came to rest on my hips, the strength of his grip betraying his weak hold on self control. He was almost panting, moaning a little bit every time I touched a particularly sensitive area on his neck. I continued kissing downward until I reached the hollow at the base of his throat. Sitting up, I took a minute to look at him.

His eyes were hooded with pleasure, indigo blue burning beneath. A flush was slowly spreading from his chest up to his face. His hair framed his face beautifully, the curls spread across the pillow. His lips were parted, his breath coming out in pants. In short, he was a beautiful portrait of aroused male.

Slowly, I began unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes followed my hands' motions. When I reached the bottom, I pulled his shirt out from his pants and laid the flaps wide, exposing his beautiful chest for my observation. Giving him a wicked look, I leaned down and began giving his chest the best oral attention I knew how to give. I alternated licking, kissing, and grazing my teeth against his warm flesh. When I got to his nipples, I closed my lips around first one and then the other, each time eliciting a spine-tingling groan from the back of his throat. This was exactly what I needed: to be in control of his pleasure. I forgot how intoxicating it was.

Continuing on my trek downward, I moved so that I was on my knees between his spread legs. I sat up and ran my hands up his thighs, avoiding his straining cock, which had left a quarter-sized wet spot on the light charcoal fabric of his trousers. I grinned to myself at the sight. I slowly undid his belt and unbuttoned the fly of his pants. While drawing down the zipper of his fly, I looked up and met his eyes, which positively blazed with barely restrained desire. I kept my gaze locked on his as I pulled the elastic of his underwear down and out of the way, allowing his cock to spring free at last. I licked my lips at the sight of it, eliciting a strained groan from Stefan.

Leaning down once more, I resumed my teasing kisses at his lower abdomen. I teased his navel with my tongue, and slowly began kissing my way down his happy trail. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, gently leading me downwards to where he wanted me. However, I denied him for a few more moments, diverting my motions to graze my teeth along his hip. He moaned in impatience, trying again to get me to pay attention to his cock. Finally, I licked the very tip of his cock with my tongue. His hips jerked up reflexively, and he let out a long groan.

"Please..." he begged.

"Please what?" I asked, teasing his straining cock with my breath.

"I can't take it anymore... please... suck me..."

"Here?" I asked, placing my mouth on his taut lower abdomen. He hissed, sucking in air between his clenched teeth.

"No...please..."

"Where, then?"

"My cock... please... suck my cock..." he begged. I couldn't believe what I was hearing: it was so sexy.

"Well, since you asked so politely..." I answered coyly, and finally gave him what he wanted. I took the head of his cock into my mouth and sucked hard. I took the rest of his hard dick into my hand and rubbed up and down while my tongue collected the pre-cum that had collected on the tip of his cock. Slowly but surely, I worked more and more of him into my mouth. I couldn't believe how much I was enjoying his moans, the way his hands gripped my shoulders, and how his hips were jerking uncontrollably. Eventually, the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. I relaxed my muscles, and suddenly my nose was pressed against his public bone. This elicited a jagged moan from Stefan, his hands moving quickly to my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. I held my head in place, allowing him to fuck my mouth, overcome by the desire to taste his come; at that moment, I desired more than anything to prove that I wanted this. His hips thrust up once, twice, and then with a great groan, his cock jerked and my mouth was filled with his hot come. I swallowed all he offered, and licked his cock clean, resting my head on his hip as he came down from his orgasm.

When his breathing had slowed, I looked up at his face. He was looking down at me, his hand stroking my head.

"Come here," he said. I complied, crawling up his body and straddling his hips. He pulled me down and caught my mouth in a kiss, his tongue questing inside my mouth, tasting the come he had just spilled there. Moving, he pushed me over so that I was lying on my back and he was on top of me.

"My turn," he said, giving me a wicked grin.

Taking much less time than I did, he divested me of my clothes. I let him do with me as he pleased for the time being. However, by this time, I was so turned on that if he took much longer I'd just have to help myself out. When I was naked and lying on my back before him, he took his time looking at me as I had done before with him. I lay still beneath him, not trying to hide any of the bruises or other marks Gonzalo had left. Stefan's brow furrowed when he touched the marks on my hips, thighs, and breasts. He then leaned down and gently kissed each and every one of them.

Straightening himself out, he stretched out until he was flying lush against me. My legs went around his hips. I could feel his hard-again cock pressing snugly between the lips of my pussy. I moaned at the contact, and he caught it in his mouth. He kissed me deeply, sucking my tongue into his mouth and biting gently on my lips. As we kissed, he gently rocked his hips back and forth, grinding himself against me. I slid my hands down his back and grabbed his ass, indicating that I wanted more. His answering groan in my mouth was all I needed to hear.

When our kiss broke, he slid his lips down my jaw and to my neck. He grazed his teeth against my neck, biting down gently and moaning. I couldn't wait anymore. I needed him.

"Stefan... please..."

I heard his chuckle at the realization that the roles had been reversed.

"Begging me now?" his breath was hot on my ear and I shuddered, digging my nails lightly into his ass.

"Yes..." I hissed out, exhaling the air from between my clenched teeth.

"What do you want, Sarah?" his voice was low and impossibly sexy, almost growling. He gently took my earlobe between his teeth. I almost lost it.

"I want... I need... Please just fuck me..."

In answer, Stefan pulled his hips back so that his cock slid down until the head was pressed against my opening. Slowly, he began pushing his way into me, stretching me to fit his cock. Surprisingly I wasn't sore, and I moaned aloud in gratitude both for this fact and for the fact that Stefan was finally inside of me.

"Like that, baby?" he asked harshly.

"God, yes..."

He chuckled against my neck. He pulled his hips back and thrust into me again, and again, hitting bottom every time. My pussy was so wet that soon the sound of our bodies smacking wetly against each other filled the room. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked into my eyes while he fucked me. He was biting his bottom lip and grunting deep in his throat with every thrust. The look in his eyes was incredible. I thrived on it.

Sooner than I would have liked, the tingle of impending orgasm began to build in my legs.

"Faster, Stefan... Please... I'm so close..."

As per my request, Stefan quickened the pace of his thrusts. He then sat up onto his haunches, grabbed hold of my thighs, and lifted me up each time he thrusted forward with his hips. This new angle caused his cock to rub against that spot deep inside of me, and my orgasm roared out of me. My back arched with pleasure, my fingers gripped the comforter, and my hips bucked uncontrollably with the pleasure of my orgasm. I was dimly aware of Stefan's answering moans, and I felt his cock jerking as he emptied himself inside of me. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily into the crook of my neck.

After a few minutes, he had recovered enough and rolled over onto his back. He pulled me into the crook of his arm. I nestled gratefully.

"That was..."

"I know."

He laughed softly.