Hilariously Ever After

by Box Set

  “I adore you,” he murmured. “Completely. I adore you.” His mouth caught hers in a searing kiss as he thrust into her, so fucking slowly. Inch by inch, his cock stretched her wide as his tongue caressed hers. For the first time in forever, she felt full in a way she couldn’t describe, a way that had nothing to do with the hard length easing into her.

  If he hadn’t kissed her when he did, she might have said something dangerous back.

  Chapter 15

  This must be what drowning felt like. Not the part where you choked and panicked and struggled to breathe; this was the part where you gave up, where your mind floated away as your body died, and all you felt was warmth and water and weightlessness. Yes, he decided. Aria felt like a beautiful death and the heaven that followed, all wrapped up in one.

  Her kisses were sweet and tender and desperate, her hands sliding through Nik’s hair, over his face, his shoulders. Everywhere she touched, she spread star-bright pleasure. He could feel her panting breaths against his cheek, feel her nipples hard against his chest as she arched beneath him. Her hips rocked against his, and his cock—Jesus, his cock was buried so deep in her slick heat, he might never get out again.

  That would be perfect; that would be bliss. This, with her, forever.

  “Nik,” she moaned softly. “Please. Fuck me.”

  He slid a hand under her head, cradling her skull, holding her to him as he kissed her again. He couldn’t speak. If he did, she’d hear the truth in his voice, hear the fact that he loved her in every crack and waver. So, instead, he kissed her, and hoped she wouldn’t taste it on his tongue. Holding her tight, Nik eased out of her pussy almost completely, then rocked slowly back into her.

  She gave a long, shuddering moan, and he swallowed the sound greedily. The rampant need that had been prowling inside him from the moment they’d met was, for the first time, satisfied. Completely satisfied. He had her. She was his. He wouldn’t think about the rest, wouldn’t think about reality—couldn’t right now, with her soft, wet cunt clinging to his dick, and her nails raking his back, and her body trembling every time he thrust.

  “Yes,” she breathed, breaking the kiss, freeing his reckless mouth. “Yes, oh my God, Nik, like that.”

  “S’agapó,” he breathed. I love you.

  She sank her teeth into his shoulder for a second, then gave a ragged moan. “I’m going to come.”

  “S’agapó. S’agapó. Ti mou ékanes, agápi mou?” What have you done to me, my love?

  He watched her expression dissolve into ecstasy as she came with his name on her lips. Felt her inner walls tighten and release around his cock. He fucked her through it, pushed her higher until she finally relaxed beneath him, completely spent. And then he caught her face in his hands, and kissed her, and gave in to his release.

  When he came to his senses, Aria was shoving gently at his shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rolling off of her. To his surprise, she followed, throwing half her body on top of his, burying her face against his chest.

  “Goo’night,” she sighed, and snuggled deeper as if he were a teddy bear.

  “…Ri?”

  No response.

  “Aria. Are you asleep?”

  Apparently so.

  Less than five minutes after an orgasm that had shaken his soul, Nik stared up at the ceiling and laughed.

  Aria spent the next morning thoroughly enjoying herself. Or rather, thoroughly enjoying Nik as he got acquainted with her sex box.

  He seemed to like it. A lot.

  By the afternoon, they were up and wandering the streets while the rest of the house slept off last night’s excess. As they walked, Nik swung their joined hands with so much enthusiasm, Aria was surprised he hadn’t accidentally thrown her halfway across the street. “You’re in a good mood,” she murmured as they passed cute little stores and cool cafés.

  “Of course, I am,” he said cheerfully. “I spent my morning coming on your—”

  “Will you shut up? I don’t think those nice old ladies over there need to know about our deviant activities.”

  Nik barely spared the ladies a look, rolling his eyes. “Deviant activities?” he echoed in mock outrage. “I think you mean love-making, Aria. Very meaningful love-making.”

  She laughed so hard she almost choked. “I’m pretty sure that would involve less dirty talk. And fewer vibrators. And…”

  “Don’t think I can’t fuck the living daylights out of you and make love to you at the same time.”

  She’d thought he was teasing—he had been teasing—only now his voice was low and gravelly, his gaze almost hypnotising. She’d had an unreasonable number of orgasms in the last twenty-four hours, but she felt heat stir in her body anyway, her skin tingling. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” He pulled her closer, bending down to kiss her nose. “What do you think about that?”

  She thought she shouldn’t read too much into it, or into the soft look in his eyes. As perfect as Nik was, he was still Nik. Still the biggest playboy she’d ever met—which was saying something—still a man who’d paid her to be here, still the guy who’d practically bent over backward to avoid anything approaching a What are we? discussion. When she’d mentioned commitment the day before, he’d practically frozen, and then he’d asked about her ex.

  Which was fine! Absolutely fine! Because Aria was off men. Off relationships. Completely.

  “I think,” she answered finally, “that you’re a man of many talents.” She rose up on her toes and kissed his nose right back. Then she let go of his hand and headed up the street. “Do you know how to say, ‘India ink’ in Spanish, by the way?”

  There was a slight pause before he answered, a hesitation before he fell into step at her side and took her hand again. “I know how to say ‘India’, and I know how to say ‘ink’.

  “Good enough.”

  Nik hadn’t been joking on that drunken night when he’d asked Aria to give him a tattoo. And he wasn’t joking now, either, though she was laughing at what he’d just said as if it were top-tier comedy.

  “You want me to surprise you?” she repeated, incredulous.

  “What, no-one’s ever asked you to do that?”

  “Well, yeah. The guys who are fucking covered and don’t give a shit, sometimes they ask me to do that. But this is your first tattoo, Nik! Don’t you know what you want?”

  “I think,” he said, with complete honesty, “that you’ll choose something perfect. Because you’re perfect.”

  Around them, the kitchen erupted into groans. Half the house had dragged themselves out of bed to watch Nik get a stick-and-poke from his girlfriend—and, as always, Nik was using their presence to say things he couldn’t usually get away with. He could lavish fake-girlfriend-Aria with praise and have her think it was all part of the act. When they were alone, though, he tried to cool it.

  He usually failed, but he tried.

  “You know what?” she asked with a wicked smile. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’re gonna get. A surprise.”

  “Oh, Christ,” Georgia laughed. “You’ve done it now, Nik. You great ninny!”

  Ah, well.

  Aria took the whole thing very seriously—but then, he supposed, she was a professional. She’d told him all about her apprenticeship, her many tattoos, and how much she loved her job. She was going to open a tattoo shop with the money she’d earned this week. So, obviously, she wouldn’t want to accidentally poison him with a needle in a Marbella mansion.

  He felt a tickle as she outlined whatever design she’d chosen, but he couldn’t see anything. For some reason, she’d decided to tattoo the back of his arm, just above his elbow. He suspected she’d done it to make sure he couldn’t see—or maybe so that, if he hated it, it would be easy to ignore. She was the kind of person who thought about things like that.

  He wished he could tell her, as she filled the needle with ink and kissed his shoulder, that he’d never hate any mark she put on him.

  So why don’t you?
Why don’t you stop fucking around and take what you want? Why don’t you tell her that you’re not letting go?

  Because I want her to hold on, too.

  The sharp little pokes began, like scratchy bug bites. He felt her hair brush against the small of his back as she bent her head. He remembered how it had felt grazing his thighs that morning as she rode him, as she tipped her head back and told him she’d never wanted anyone like this.

  Soon. He’d tell her soon. Because keeping secrets from Aria was starting to feel like the worst kind of sin.

  “Hold still.” Aria twisted Nik’s arm into the perfect position as she snapped a picture of his fresh tattoo. “I’m gonna post this on Instagram.”

  “That’s great, chrysí mou, but what is it?”

  “It’s the shit emoji,” Varo said solemnly.

  The room erupted into laughter. She ignored them and leaned over Nik’s shoulder, holding her phone out for him to see. Her heart pounded as she said, “Look.”

  He peered at the little screen, and she held her breath. She always wanted clients to like their ink, but this was different. She couldn’t explain how. It just was. While Nik looked, she studied the image herself, searching nervously for any fuck-ups she’d missed with her naked eye. But all she saw were neat letters inked in fine capitals, spelling out ‘Colston City’—the team he’d been so devastated to leave.

  She placed her lips by his ear, aware of the whole room watching closely, and murmured, “If you don’t like it—”

  “I love it.”

  I love you, she thought, as if it were a natural response. So natural that she opened her mouth and almost let it spill out into the world. Then, thank God, she caught herself and clamped her teeth together. “Great! That’s great! Fantastic!”

  It was, possibly, the first time Aria had ever held back those three little words. She threw love around all the time, especially in the messy relationships she’d once cobbled together and clung to for reassurance. She’d told Simon she loved him, for fuck’s sake. The words had never felt heavy on her tongue, had never felt like a spell that, once whispered, could change everything.

  They did now. Because Aria had the unnerving suspicion that she might really mean it. That she might mean it the way she did when she said it to Jen, or to her annoying little sisters, only different. Different in a way she’d heard of but had never really understood.

  Fuck.

  She backed away from Nik as his friends surged forward to see the tattoo. She needed to wrap it up. But Nik wasn’t an idiot; he wouldn’t let anyone touch what was essentially an open wound. She could leave him here for a second while she ran to the bathroom and tried to figure out what the hell was causing these strange feelings in her chest.

  No-one noticed Aria leave—except Nik, of course. He always noticed, always found her in a crowd, always watched her from afar. When she scurried out of the door, she felt his gaze on her like a promise. Like the first promise he’d ever made her, one she hadn’t believed in at the time: “I will find you.”

  Somehow, in the weeks that had passed, Aria had grown to trust every single word that came out of his mouth. But was that wise? Was it even real? Or was she doing the thing she always did, the thing she’d tried so hard to stop after learning just how dangerous it could be?

  Aria didn’t know. And five minutes staring at herself in the bathroom mirror didn’t help matters. No ghostly breath created condensation on the glass; no secret messages appeared. All she saw was her own face, eyes somehow less tired than usual, skin glowing more than it did back home. Must be the vitamin D.

  She kind of wished Nik was here, so she could make that horrible joke aloud and he could laugh as if it were funny.

  God, this was worse than any crush she’d ever had—if it was even a crush. It felt like she was falling for him. It felt like she was fucking smitten, but that, Aria decided as she unlocked the bathroom door, was a feeling she couldn’t trust.

  “Aria.” Her name, spoken by a voice she barely recognised, was all the warning she had before a big body blocked the doorway, pushing her back.

  She was still holding the needle she’d used on Nik, though she’d wrapped it back up in its packaging, ready for disposal. She clutched the little plastic bundle tight as Baxter’s pretty face came into view. He gave her an apologetic look as he shut the bathroom door, closing them in together.

  “What the fuck?” she demanded.

  He held up his hands. “I’m not trying anything. Swear. I just want to talk.”

  “In a fucking toilet? Fuck off before I stab you!”

  “Aria calm down. I just need to talk to you without Nik hanging around.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “What could you possibly have to say to me that my boyfriend can’t hear?” Boyfriend rolled from her lips far too naturally, but she was too on edge to worry about it.

  “I want to warn you,” Baxter said.

  The words cooled the rage in her blood like a bucket of ice. Warn her? About what? Suspicion unfurled in her chest, its taste bitter and familiar, edged in sour panic. She’d been right to hesitate, to question her feelings. Nik had secrets. He’d been lying to her. He’d been hiding something. She knew it.

  “What?” she demanded. To her horror, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back furiously and speared Baxter with a glare. “Go on. Tell me.”

  He leant against the door and eyed her with what seemed to be genuine pity. “You know he’s just using you, right?”

  “How?” she demanded.

  “I can tell you’re a sweet girl.” At her derisive snort, he insisted, “You are! A nice girl. A good girl.”

  He was saying girl rather a lot, considering she was close to thirty.

  “Obviously, Nik couldn’t use his usual tactics with you,” Baxter went on, his tone earnest. “So, he had to try something new. That’s all this is, this girlfriend thing. As soon as he gets tired of fucking you—”

  “Oh, seriously? That’s all you’ve got?” Aria rolled her eyes, the panic in her veins draining away all at once. Baxter didn’t know anything, and he wasn’t here to ‘warn’ her. Clearly, he just wanted to talk crap about Nik, maybe to break up their supposed relationship. Aria didn’t know why the two of them hated each other so much, but she did know shit-stirring when she heard it.

  “I’m serious,” the blond said. And he really did sound serious. If it weren’t for the fact that, actually, Nik was paying Aria to be his girlfriend, she might even believe the guy. “He’s never stayed with anyone for more than five minutes. You haven’t seen him in action.” Baxter’s lip curled. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

  “Oh, come on. His sex life offends your delicate sensibilities? Grow up. This whole house is shagging twenty-four seven.”

  “It’s not the same,” Baxter spat. “He can’t even stay with one woman. Or,” he sneered, “one man.”

  Understanding dawned. Aria ground her teeth so hard, a flash of pain lanced through her skull. “So, what you’re saying,” she gritted out, “is that my boyfriend’s a cheating skank because he’s bi. Yeah? Is that right?”

  Baxter had the absolute unmitigated gall to shrug. As if the question wasn’t even worth answering. Which is when her temper really snapped.

  Slamming a hand against the door, right beside his face, she waved around her little plastic bundle. “Do you know what I have in here?” she asked. “I have a needle. A big fucking needle. And if I put that needle in your eye, it will hurt. A lot. Along with some other unpleasant effects. And you know what, Baxter? I wish I could. I really fucking wish I could stab you right now, more than I’ve ever wanted to stab anyone in my life. And let me tell you, that’s saying something, because I have quite the temper.”

  He shifted, his jaw set, his expression a woeful attempt to appear unconcerned. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” she whispered, and stepped back.

  Without a word,
Baxter practically folded himself in half to avoid blocking her path. Aria slammed out of the bathroom and marched down the hall, muttering furiously under her breath.

  As she neared the kitchen, Nik appeared, his eyes settling on her with relief. “Hey,” he smiled. “Where’d you go?”

  She grabbed him by the hand and kept walking, pulling him deeper into the house.

  “Okaaaay,” he laughed. “We’re going somewhere. Cool.”

  She didn’t laugh along. “You said,” Aria began quietly, “that you wanted the opposite of casual.”

  “Uh… yeah,” he said, his confusion clear. “I did. I do. But you didn’t seem big on the commitment thing, so—”

  “Neither did you,” she pointed out.

  “Didn’t I?” he asked, his voice a little too mild.

  Aria stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. She had no idea what was going on here, not anymore—but she knew one thing with absolute certainty, the kind of certainty she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  She trusted Nik. She cared about him. And she would fuck up anyone who messed with him.

  Which meant she should probably put on her big girl knickers and say this.

  “I want to be with you. For real.” Her words were barely a whisper, because although the room they were in seemed empty, anyone might be close by.

  But she knew he’d heard her, because his face lit up like a Christmas tree—which was not exactly the reaction she’d expected. She didn’t know what she’d expected, actually. Something potentially devastating, bad enough that her palms were still sweating even as she saw the happiness in his eyes.

  “You do?” he asked, a bit loudly. And then, again, his voice a whisper, “You do? You do. Aria don’t fuck with me—”

  “Oh, come on. I’m serious. Of course, I’m serious.”

  He grabbed her, ignoring her shrieked warning about the needle she still held and his brand-new tattoo. “Mine,” he murmured against her lips, wrapping an arm around her. “You’re mine. You’re with me. For real.”