The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3)

by Palmer, Dee

  “No Daniel no wish and you command me.” It’s all I manage because the instant I open my mouth he has the tie doubled and pressed against my tongue, deftly securing a knot at the back of my head. It’s for the best, this way I can keep my bleeding internal and all I get to share is the pleasure he draws from my helpless body. He presses his lips firmly against mine, my tongue helpless to join his as he traces along my swollen lips. He takes my hands and lifts them high above my head and captures them in one of his fists. He moans into my mouth as he fumbles with the zip on his trousers and releases his straining cock free and I hum my own longing as I feel its weight press against my naked skin. He lifts me with one arm tucked under my bottom and I secure my legs around his trim hips supporting my own weight while he positions himself at my molten slick core. No more pausing, no more anticipation, no more as he drives his full length, hard, fast, ferocious again and again, deep and deeper still as he angles and pushes to my limits and beyond. I scream into the cloth gripped in my teeth as he pounds relentless thrust after delirious thrust, steeling every breath from my body.

  My body starts to shudder and I am desperate to hold him or push him away. I don’t know, it’s too intense, too much, overwhelming. My body quakes as the immense pressure deep inside begins to convulse and contract around his unrelenting lust. My skin glistens, my heart hurts from racing and my mind dissolves from trying to absorb the mind blowing pleasure mainlining through my body. He draws back and meets my glazed eyes and I hold back a sob as panic whips through me that he might choose now to punish me with denial but from the heat and urgency in his eyes it would be just as much a punishment for him. His jaw clenches and he fights to maintain control of this moments’ hesitation. “Come with me.” The timbre of his voice sounds almost tortured and I feel his whole tense body relax when I vigorously nod my agreement. He rears back and plunges harder, deeper and I can no longer make a noise as all oxygen needed to carry the sound is pushed far from my body with each thrust of his hips, grinding me hard, fast, down and dirty. He throws his head back but I am already falling, gasping and rolling in waves of sublime pulsing pleasure. Forceful crashes of euphoria hit me hard and shake my core and my body takes over squeezing and riding the very last ripple of this monumental climax until I hang like a limpet from Daniels body. My arms cling over his neck, gloriously impaled on his massive cock unable to support the weight of my legs and only his strong frame pressed against me prevents me crumbling to the floor.

  I open my eyes but the black fuzzy dots still float across my peripheral vision and my breathing is ragged, just as laboured as the man I hang from. He bends his knees and clasps his hands firmly on my backside lifting me with ease and pulling me further onto his still hard erection. I try to look down between our bodies but he has me pressed tight to his body as he pushes off the wall and walks us as one to the bed, where he turns and sits. With slow deliberate moves he carefully unzips my dress and pulls it over my head. I can feel him shake and works his trousers off his feet and with a look of concentration that makes me chuckle he works he shoes and socks off too. I am staring at his shirt covered chest and my fingers twitch to undo his buttons and finally feel his skin on mine but I can’t take my eyes from his. He slips his hands behind me unties his tie at the back of my head , freeing my mouth and unclips my bra but I can’t help laugh when the serious hot tension is broken because he breaks our gaze to take a quick peek down. He chuckles, shrugs and coughs.

  “Where’s that famous control?” My mocking tone is accompanied with a slight wiggle on his cock which thickens at the movement and he groans in appreciation.

  “Mmm. I have control.” His voice rasps deep and gravelly. “But I’d have to be a fucking robot to not look at these fucking amazing tits.” His hands scoop my weighty breasts and he reverently cups and massages as his eyes flicker from his ministration back to my eyes. His grin is infectious and I laugh at his eloquence.

  “You have such a charming way with words.” I fan myself to highlight my sarcasm.

  “I don’t need to be charming I already have my dick buried so deep in you I‘m gonna need the rescue services to dig me out.” He tilts his hips and hits a spot so deep I can’t help the cry at the back of my throat. His hands grip my hips and he pulls me slowly, deeper onto him. His gaze is again fixed on me, it’s just so intimate, so intense and I can feel every part of him inside me. I let out a shaky sigh and I can feel my eyes tingle. I breathe out slowly and blink to stop the water pooling but when his lips cover mine, gentle and possessive the tears fall. I struggle to speak, wanting to say so much but not wanting to say too much. “Gag?” His soft words and kind eyes are going to test me to destruction but I shake my head this time. “You sure?” I can hear the uncertainty in his voice but I don’t want anything between us this last time. “Ok.” He whispers against my lips and my breath hitches with this sweet contact.

  “Fuck me nice and slow.” I exhale and shiver absorbing the pleasure I feel from the inside out with him just there, deep inside me and wrapped around me but he shakes his head and I frown and hold my breath waiting for his withdrawal.

  “No Bethany, I’m not going to fuck you at all. I’m going to make love to you; nice and slow, one last time.” His most dazzling smile follows the words that both lift my heart and break my soul but I nod and tuck my head into his neck to hide the tears the trickle down my cheek as I exhale a quiet. ‘Ok.’

  Added to my endless list of ‘will anyone ever make me . . . ’ is definitely, ‘will anyone ever make me come like that again? Because as emotionally raw and sensitive as I am, I seriously doubt it. I have had to take refuge in the bathroom to gather my fragile self together after the most earth shattering experience of my life. Nice and slow are insults of the English language in this instance, cherished, worshipped, erotically teased and delighted. My skin burnt from his touch and my soul soared, again and again. I had no limits because I couldn’t even manage to speak to beg him to stop. My hands are still shaking and I’ve been in here for a good ten minutes. I don’t take a shower because I don’t want to wash his scent from my body and I will treasure the swollen lips and marks on my skin for the short time they cling to my exterior. I will nurture this broken heart because it will remind me that I have lived all the time I loved this fiercely. It is less than an hour to midnight.

  Daniel is dressed when I leave the bathroom and I can feel the shift and change in him. It’s understandable. It’s necessary. I brush myself down and hope everyone is, by now, too drunk to notice our prolonged absence and my ‘she’s been fucked by a train’ appearance. I decide to tackle the awkward silence head on; we still have an hour after all.

  “Am I that predictable?” I grin trying to ease the burgeoning tension but he just frowns with confusion. I wave my arms around the room and point at the bed in disarray. He flashes a wicked grin but shakes his head.

  “Not at all, I flew in this morning and needed somewhere to change. It was never my intention . . . I mean this is not why I came today.” He doesn’t sound regretful but there is a heavy weight of sadness to his tone which needs to be lightened.

  “So midnight?” My voice attempts to be cheery but the hitch in my breath at the end means it fails.

  “Midnight?” He repeats and opens the door for me to walk through, talking and walking is easier, less intense.

  “Well, my life may turn back into the proverbial pumpkin but what about you?” I take his hand because I don’t like the cool distance creeping in between us. Even if it is inevitable, I can still fight it until the last second of this day.

  “I don’t think . . .” He hesitates but clearly decides he isn’t in a sharing mood. “What about you?” He flips the question but his tone is almost an accusation.

  “Oh well, pumpkin aside.” I nudge him and smile desperate to lift the gloom. “I’m going to disappear for a bit. I have a bit of money saved and Tom has helped so I’m going to travel. See a bit of the world before, well you know ‘get my shit togeth
er.’” I laugh but it sounds flat and falls flat as I turn to look at where Daniel has stopped walking.

  “Who are you travelling with?” His dark brow furrows and I can see tension gather at his jaw.

  “No-one . . . I’m kind of looking forward to some me time.” I am not sure this is entirely true but it is the situation I am in and I am not going to cancel.

  “I don’t like it.” He crosses his arms and I laugh out loud and turn to walk away shouting over my shoulder.

  “Well it’s a good thing it has fuck all to do with you then isn’t it!” I walk through the main door and can hear the wedding party still in full swing but before I can make it into the main room Daniel has grabbed my hand and spun me to face him. His scowl still makes me recoil but I check myself when I remember my ticking clock as far as Daniel is concerned.

  “Bethany!” He growls and I can feel the anger vibrate through his frame.

  “What Daniel? Tell me was I wrong? Do my decisions have fuck all to do with you?” He straightens his shoulders and narrows’ his eyes but doesn’t reply. “That’s what I thought and how fair do you think it is to say something like that to me, with less than an hour to go before ‘everything changes.’ Tell me! Because I don’t think it is fair, not by a long fucking way.” My voice breaks and is muffled when he steps and wraps his arms around me, my head is buried against his chest but my sobs only come harder.

  “You are right, forgive me. It has nothing to do with me . . . I am sorry.” His clipped tone softens with the last few words. I shake my head with stubborn determination and refuse to waste these last precious moments with futile tears. There is a crowd gathered and I can see Sofia waving her bouquet around and searching the crowd. Her eyes meet mine, hers filled with playful mischief but I can’t play along. I hang back and shake my head. I watch as she throws the flowers high and smile at the surge and squeal of giggles from the gathered ladies. Once it is safe I walk over because Sofia and Paul are about to leave for the evening and I take my turn in hugging and wishing them . . . well, wishing them everything.

  “You looked so beautiful today Sofs.” Her arms are wrapped tight around my neck and I can tell from the sway of her body she is a little worse for the free flowing bubbly.

  “And you look beautiful every day . . .” She pulls back with an exaggerated pout. “ I am sad Marco is going travelling tomorrow and you said you are too . . . what about me? What will I do?” She hiccups and giggles. Ok so maybe a lot worse for wear.

  “You’ll be on your honeymoon Sofs—” She collapses in silent laughter.

  “Oh yes!” She straightens herself and tries to look sober. “And you will be travelling the world with Daniel. I am so glad you worked it out . . . This has just been the perfect day, hasn’t it?” She squeezes me once more before Paul drags her away and bundles her into the waiting car.

  “Perfect.” I say, waving the happy couple Bon Voyage.

  I turn to see Daniel regarding me from the edge of the gathering. He looks restless, he looks like he is about to leave. I walk up to him. “Dance with me?” My voice is just as shaky but I manage to smile and he manages to nod and once again takes my hand and leads me into the throng of dancing wedding guests.

  The vibrancy and chaotic flailing of arms is evidence enough that the alcohol has continued to flow and the room feels fit to burst with happiness. It is timely and distracting and I quickly find myself jumping and shaking some dubious shapes to the belting sounds of Pink’s True Love. Pip and Fia throw their arms around me and we jump together singing at the top of our lungs ‘I hate you, I really hate you, I want to wrap my hands around your neck. . . . So much I think it must be True Love . . . ’ Glad the DJ has the music so loud our tuneless voices can’t be heard but it doesn’t take a whole lot of lip reading for Daniel to know what I am singing right at him. He pulls me away and holds me tight against his strong body resting his head on mine and slowing my moves to sway with his, ignoring the thumping beats the crowd is dancing to. The blend and mix of love songs begins to seep into my conscious despite the remix and up-beat tempos and when Ellie Goulding’s Figure 8 lyrics filter in ‘I need you more than I can take, you promised forever and a day and then you take it all away,” I have to fight with all my strength to push from his hold. I break free, stumble back as my eyes blur and I turn and run for the door unable to breathe, pushing passed the guests, remaining family and waiting staff. So desperate for air I almost collapse as I cling to the pillar just outside the main doors.

  I feel him before I hear his steady steps close in behind me and I shake my head and draw in a deep healing breath but it’s useless. I know I’m broken because I can’t stop the fucking tears from free falling. My breath stutters as I try to speak. “This is brutal.” I push out a sharp breath of utter desolation as I turn to face the man I broke and the man who chooses to break me. This is so fucked up. “I know we can’t all have the fairy tale ending but that doesn’t stop me wanting one wish.” He steps closer but doesn’t reach out to touch me even though I can see his fingers move with residual memory of that connection. I tilt my head to meet his beautiful eyes unashamed that mine are unable to contain their sadness a moment longer.

  “What would you wish?” His voice is tentative; I have never heard it quite like that before now. I let out a sad laugh but I am surprised he asked given how ridged his body is, how uncomfortable I am making him right now.

  “Groundhog Day.” My voice falters again but he nods in understanding but I still want to explain. “You know in the film Bill Murray spends all his time learning new stuff, playing the piano, learning to make ice sculptures, saving lives, that sort of thing.” I hiccup and suck back, muffling the sobs so I don’t sound as desperate as I feel. “I wish today was my Groundhog Day but I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a single thing.” Silence falls for endless seconds before he breaks it.

  “Thank you for today Bethany. I will cherish the memory.” His soft quiet words so filled with finality. I have to hold my mouth to stop the heart wrenching cry just waiting to escape and embarrass us both. But the sheer panic consumes me and my heart beats a deafening tattoo so loud that I think I will have to shout out to be heard.

  “Daniel . . . I . . . I . . . I am so sorry. You must know . . . I’m so sorry.” I fail to keep the genuine fear from my voice.

  “I am sorry too.” The quiet in his voice does nothing but send an eerie chill up my spine. His face is blank of any emotion. His lips are tight and I can see him start to pull away, I grab his hand and hold it in both of mine.

  “Daniel, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry but its midnight so what’s actually changed, it’s still just you and me. You’re here with me . . . Can’t we? . . .” My mind is messed up, frantic for the right words. Any words that will make him change his mind. He has to change his mind, my question sounds like a pitiful plea. “What’s changed?” I don’t actually finish this question because he interrupts and rips my heart from my chest, throws it on the ground and drives his pristine dress shoes into the mass of lifeless muscle.

  “Angel is pregnant.” His voice is hushed; his jaw ticks but there are no words left. I have no words and I have nothing left to stop my tears from drenching my face and drowning my soul. His voice so quiet I strain to hear. “I’m sorry you were wrong.” I can see his eyes through my haze and I believe he is sorry. Maybe he is sorry I was wrong, maybe he is sorry he was right but everything has changed. My knees buckle but just as Daniel steps to catch me he is pushed aside. Marco swoops and scoops me against his body, his older brother Anthony flanking him and his father just behind them.

  “I think it’s time you left.” I have never heard that tone from Marco before and Daniel wisely holds his hands up in retreat and starts to step away from the carnage. Just before he turns I call out.

  “Daniel!” My voice is raw; the pain expressed is reflected in his face, for once an open book of absolute ruin. “I hope I continue to be wrong because you don’t deserve that life if I’m ri
ght.”

  “You can’t help yourself can you?” He shakes his head in frustration or maybe its resignation.

  “Not when it comes to you.” He has already walked away so I don’t think he hears my whispered words but Marco does and he huffs with indignation. But he stops his judgemental tirade when he sees my face because you would have to a callous arsehole to kick me now and he’s not an arsehole, he’s my friend.

  I HAVEN’T SLEPT. I didn’t want to dream. I have lay naked in my bed going over every moment of the day in every possible detail. Closing my eyes tightly to hold the memory a little longer, each glance, each touch and each heartbeat I shared with him. It’s been a long, painful, wonderful perfect night of pure hell. I can feel him on my skin, under my skin and every part of me feels because of him. But from this moment I have to start the unbearable process of letting go and endure, as each vibrant nerve ignited by him fizzles and dies. I know it will take more than the day I am allowing myself to wallow in self-pity, I know it will take longer than forever. Even though he wasn’t my first love he was my true love and I know I will never get over that. I knew I would never survive Daniel Stone but I fell all the same. Today, I feel battered, bruised but alive and alive I feel too much. Too much pain, too much sorrow, just too much. I yearn for the welcome return of the inevitable numbness.