Discovering Stella

by K. M. Golland

  “Stella, tell me what you want,” I said imploringly.

  A tear freed itself from her eye and disappeared down her cheek. “I want you to kiss me.”

  “So come closer,” I encouraged softly.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. You just have to want to.”

  She looked at me pleadingly. “I do.”

  “I know you do. I can see it written on your face.”

  Stella raised her hands to her cheeks as if to hide what her body so desperately wanted. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “I think you are,” I offered, holding out my hand for her to reach. “I want to help you through whatever it is you need to get through. You just have to let me.”

  She looked at my outstretched hand before returning her gaze to mine. Then, with the confidence I knew she had, she ignored my hand and stepped up to my chest. “Can you fix me?” she whispered.

  I could see the hope in her eyes, which were glistening with tears. “You’re not broken, Princess, but I fucking promise that I will take your sadness away if you’ll let me.”

  Staring at her beautiful face, watching as her eyes darted from side to side, I waited. I waited for her to give me the green light, to initiate something more between us. I waited to become her knight.

  She nodded just slightly and that’s all it took for me to bend down and capture her mouth with my own, hungrily seeking her lips and tongue. I kissed her like I’d never kissed a woman before; and never before had I wanted to kiss a woman like I did her. Not even Vicky, who, for a short time, I’d loved. Now, it was only Stella. Stella and her sweet fucking mouth.

  She moaned as our kiss deepened, grabbing my shoulders while I gripped her arse and hoisted her body against mine. Fuck, I wanted inside her, and not only did I want in, I wanted to taste, lick and touch every goddamn inch of her. The woman was bloody intoxicating.

  Stella wrapped her legs around my waist, her thighs claiming my hips with constrictive force. “Lawson,” she moaned while rocking her pussy against the seam of my shorts.

  I found the trunk of a red gum, spun around and pressed her up against it, bracing us both with my hand. “Jesus, Stella,” I groaned, nipping at her chin as I made my way down her neck.

  Her fingers clawed at my scalp and gripped my hair, the aggressive action sending a clear message to my cock. And fuck, did my cock want to communicate. He wanted to stand tall and become the next fucking Nobel Peace Prize recipient for uniting Stella’s nation with his own.

  I couldn’t say I was against his plea for peace between our respective nether regions. In fact, I was desperate for release, bordering on crazed for wanting nothing more than to bury myself deep inside her, which was why I hoped she would tell me to stop. For whatever reason, it was clear that she wasn’t really ready to fuck.

  Fall back, you arsehole. Fall the fuck back.

  Unable to stop my mouth’s descent to her chest, my hand equally disregarded right from wrong and yanked the front of her dress down, releasing her beautiful tits — and they were fucking perfect.

  Growling like some wild beast, I grabbed as much as my hand would hold, guiding her flesh into my mouth and sucking her nipple as if it were the last thing I’d ever taste.

  “Oh. My. God!” she cried out, her body tensing within my grasp.

  Stella’s reaction to my mouth egged me on further, so I gave her other nipple the attention it sought and hungrily licked it.

  “Lawson, stop.” She barely voiced the words, gasping for breath as she gently pushed me back.

  Never in my life have I been so relieved, yet entirely fucking devastated at the one time. It was a new type of torture and one I hated experiencing.

  Stella closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the tree, the war she battled within clearly visible. “I’m sorry. I just ... I can’t —”

  “It’s okay, I understand,” I said with assurance, easing my lust-filled panting as I lifted her bra and dress in order to cover her up.

  She opened her eyes, then turned her head, attempting to conceal a sob by covering her mouth with her hand. The guilt she so clearly wore like a comfortable jumper tore at my chest. It was bloody unbearable.

  Raising my hand to her cheek and turning her head to face me, I kissed her lips softly. “Who is he?”

  She sucked in a painful breath as pure torment filled her waterlogged eyes, her mouth opening then closing.

  Silence.

  I waited.

  Then, with words no louder than a whisper, she answered, “He was my husband.”

  N I N E

  Regrets

  For the past year and a half, I’ve experienced moments when the world started to fade, layer upon layer, peeling away and floating into nothingness like petals stripped from a flower and blowing away in the wind. When this scenario occurs, I’ve no way to stop it, instead watching like a bystander.

  Held by Lawson against the tree, my legs wrapped around his hips, my heart pounding and my body yearning for more of what he wanted to give, I once again experienced the world’s layers disappearing.

  The first layer to float away was sound, followed by movement. Then I saw visions of my past, playing before me like an old silent movie. Images of my husband pierced my body, paralysing me and inflicting pain so great that I didn’t know where it began or where it ended. But then again, it never really ended. Pain took on many forms, sometimes choosing audacity and striking at your very core, and sometimes choosing to be furtive, lingering in the background, only mildly wounding as it prepared for a full-scale assault. So, in hindsight, when pain ruled our existence — regardless of its form — we were never really free.

  “Stella! Stella, come back to me,” I heard a voice say.

  It wasn’t his voice, but it was a voice I wanted to obey. The voice sounded again, this time louder. “I’m here for you. Don’t run away, Princess.” Princess ... Lawson. “That’s it, come back to me,” he encouraged, as movement and the world started to materialise for me again. “There you are. Where’d you go?”

  “I ... I ... I’m sorry, I —”

  “Hey, don’t, there’s no need to say sorry. Let’s just work at stopping you from running away like that. You don’t need to flee anymore. I’m here to help you stay and beat this, remember?” His reassuring eyes were the kindest I’d ever seen on a person.

  Releasing a sob, I crumbled before him. “I don’t want to run anymore. But I ... I can’t help it.”

  “Shit, Stella. What happened to you? What did he do to you?” Lawson asked while rubbing my back as I cried into his shoulder.

  “He destroyed me,” I whispered. “My husband ruined me beyond repair. I hate him.”

  Lawson’s reassuring rubs turned heavy, almost to the point of discomfort. “Fucking hell! Where is he?” he said harshly through gritted teeth.

  I straightened my spine and unhooked my legs, indicating that I wanted to stand. “He’s gone,” I said impassively before stepping aside and walking to the river’s edge.

  The afternoon sunlight reflected on the surface of the rippled water, casting a bright ray into my eyes, the sheer intensity of its glare forcing my eyelids shut. Downriver, an ibis’s shrill call echoed, and together with the sound of the water greeting the shore, it granted me a sense of calm. I couldn’t deny it; this spot really was beautiful, tranquil and good for my soul. The water also looked terribly inviting, so I decided to seize the day and take a dip. After all, the weather was perfect for a late-afternoon swim, not to mention I desperately needed a distraction from the topic that was my husband.

  Reaching down, I clasped the hem of my dress and shimmied it up and over my head, removing it before turning around to face Lawson. “Fancy a swim?” I asked with a docile smile, tossing my dress at his feet.

  He stood there and stared, the muscles in his neck tensing as his eyes raked over my body. Thank goodness I’d chosen matching underwear ... not that underwear selection was ever a major priority in m
y life. Regardless, I was thankful in that moment that I’d not donned a pair of nanna knickers and a floral bra.

  When Lawson didn’t answer — for whatever reason — I kicked off my flip-flops and turned back around, slowly stepping into the cool water. “Suit yourself,” I added without hesitation, continuing to immerse myself in the river.

  The spot I had chosen seemed to be a great area for swimming, and as it was situated on a bend the current wasn’t too close to the bank. That meant I had plenty of room to move about without the threat of being carried downstream.

  Surfacing, I treaded water and twirled around, finding that Lawson was nowhere to be seen. Where the hell has he gone?I quickly scanned the river’s edge, kicking my legs in order to propel myself out of the water and gain a better view. Just as I spotted his t-shirt and runners in a pile next to my dress, his head broke the water’s surface not even twenty centimetres before me, making me scream with fright. “Holy crap!” I cursed, splashing him in the face. “You scared me.”

  He laughed and shook his head like a dog that had just been washed, then grabbed my waist and pulled me to him. I placed my hands on his shoulders and wrapped my legs around him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.

  Before either of us spoke, he placed his hand on the back of my head and pulled me in for a gentle kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and massaging it against my own. The kiss was sweet and made me feel safe ... human.

  “I’m sorry, Stella,” he said quietly before pulling away. “I’m sorry your husband hurt you.”

  Hearing those words tumble out of his mouth set off a spark of fury within. So I grabbed his head and wrenched him back toward me. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s his.” I said, before aggressively resuming the kiss he’d broken.

  Lawson matched my assertiveness by gripping my shoulders and holding me tight. The way he touched me, and appeared desperately to want all I had to offer, made the muscles in my lower abdomen and inner thighs clench. It also made me want to rub myself against him to ease the desperate ache I had between my legs. And that’s exactly what I did, uncontrollably grinding my hips against his as our tongues danced with one another’s and fingers dug into needy flesh.

  “Stella,” he groaned, separating our lips just enough to speak. “You gotta stop dry-humping me. Right now, I want nothing more than to drive my cock deep inside you, and if you keep doin’ that, I might not be able to stop myself.”

  His words set my body on fire, the heat contrasting with the cool of the water. And it was in that moment that I wanted nothing more than for him to do what he’d just said. It had been so long since I’d let my body experience pleasure and I desperately wanted Lawson to give me a taste of it. I also felt that my emotions were as jumbled as a freshly shuffled deck of cards and that maybe, just maybe, I needed to let go and take this step with him to provide some clarity. Then again, there was a chance taking this step could be horribly wrong. Jesus, Stella, just go with the flow for once.

  Continuing to uncontrollably grind against him, I let my primal desire make the decision for me and moaned into his mouth. “Then do it.”

  “Fuuuuck,” he growled with anguish, as if fighting an inner battle.

  Our lips met again, this time with a feverish speed. Lawson removed his hand from my back, reached down, and then slid it into the front of my panties, settling between my legs. The feeling of his fingers resting against my sensitive skin was delicious, except his fingers weren’t moving — they remained stationary.

  “Lawson,” I pleaded, enticing him to move by swirling my hips and kissing along his jawline until I reached his ear. “Please!”

  “I need to know that you really want this, that you are ready ...” His eyelids were pressed firmly together, his voice breaking, strained. Clearly, he was concerned about my willingness to go to the next level with him, and I couldn’t say that I blamed him for feeling that way — my emotions were all over the place.

  I studied his face for a second and watched as he reopened his eyes. They spoke of turmoil, lust and worry. They also gave me insight into a man who truthfully cared about my wellbeing and frame of mind.

  They spoke of honesty.

  Smoothing his hair away from his face, I returned the sincerity. “I need to feel something. Please just touch me and make me feel good. I want to feel good again. I need to feel good again.”

  Lawson drew in a deep breath and searched my eyes for the smallest sign of doubt, and when he was presumably satisfied that there was none, he gently pulled my head to meet his and kissed me hard, finally moving his finger against my clit.

  Oh. My. God!

  I moaned deliriously as my tongue desperately sought his, my body awash with sensations that had long evaded me. Maybe it had something to do with the extensive time lapse, I wasn’t sure, but as his finger rubbed against my clit, the shockwaves of pure bliss it created were amplified far more than I’d ever experienced. “Oh, god ... fuck ...” I rasped, closing my eyes. “Lawson, that feels —”

  “Fucking perfect,” he interrupted, hot breath caressing my lips.

  “Yes ... please don’t stop. Whatever you do, please don’t stop.”

  “Princess, I don’t plan to,” he mumbled between kisses. “At least not until you’ve come on my hand.” Lawson then hoisted me higher, allowing enough room for his other finger to slide inside me. I gasped at the wonderful intrusion coupled with the cold water that accompanied it, all the while feeling the walls of my pussy clench around him.

  “Relax,” he whispered, slowly sliding his finger out and then in again while placing small kisses across my collarbone. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

  My bra unclipped at the flick of his hand, and hung loosely over my chest, releasing my breasts for him to hungrily take advantage of by sucking a nipple into his mouth and flicking it feverishly with his tongue. “Oh my ...” I murmured as my head fell back and my fingers brutally gripped his hair.

  He groaned loudly and sucked harder, stretching my nipple away from my body just slightly before letting it go with a pop of his lips. “Fuck, Stella.”

  I was so tightly strung and ready to burst that I wanted to scream. My cheeks were warm and my head felt as if it were on fire. All moisture had fled my mouth, leaving me no option but to keep licking my lips with every breath I took in.

  Lawson sensed my body climbing toward orgasm so increased his fingers’ actions, pumping and twitching them exquisitely and causing a flush of heat to slowly filter through.

  “Let go,” he said with a tone that spoke of unwavering desire. His request was all that was needed for me to release everything I had built up inside, so I did what I was told and exploded with pleasure, gripping him with my hands and legs and dropping my head to rest against his.

  Panting profusely, I let moans and words of appreciation exit my mouth before Lawson pressed his lips to mine and kissed me passionately, his fingers slowing in order to let me ride out my orgasm.

  As I gradually came back down to earth, so did my warring emotions, internally conflicting with one another and leaving me no option but to keep my eyelids closed. What my body was experiencing scared me to death, and for some reason, I couldn’t bear to open my eyes and face him.

  Lawson released his hand from between my legs and placed it with the other on either side of my face, holding me still while continuing to kiss me deeply. Suddenly, it was too much: the guilt, the anger, the orgasm ... my feelings toward him. I tried desperately to remain in control and curb everything I was feeling, but I failed miserably and let out a pain-filled sob together with the tears that were flooding my eyes.

  The absence of Lawson’s lips indicated he’d pulled away. The loss of their warmth and touch was horrible and that only confused me further.

  “Talk to me,” he said quietly, keeping hold of my face.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. You need to talk. You can’t keep bottling shit up.”

 
Shaking my head, I refused to open my eyes and face him. I was too ashamed and embarrassed that I’d begged him to do what he had and now I regretted it, regretted letting go for the first time in a long time.

  Quickly, I lowered my head and tried to hide my face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t.”

  “Stella, look at me,” he said firmly.

  “No.”

  Despite my struggle, Lawson lifted my face with the tip of his finger. “Open your fucking eyes.”

  They opened at his demand, allowing me to see his annoyed face, which only reaffirmed my regretful feelings. Oh no, I’ve ruined everything.

  “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. I shouldn’t have enjoyed it,” I said quickly, pushing against his chest in order to free myself from his grip.

  He held me, resolutely. “Stop! Stop fighting it. You’re allowed to enjoy yourself.”

  “Lawson, let me go,” I pleaded, reaching behind to fasten my bra. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “No. I’m not going to let you run anymore. You said you didn’t want to run, remember? No more running.”

  Struggling to break his hold, I started crying harder and found the bottom of the river when my feet met the squishy, slippery mud. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.”

  He fought my flailing arms and clenched fists, gripping them tighter and pinning them between our chests. “Then tell me. Tell me about your husband. What did he do to you? Where is he?”

  “He’s dead, all right? He’s gone,” I screamed, yanking my hands free.

  Lawson’s eyes widened at my declaration. I, too, stood in shock at my outburst, but then quickly covered my mouth with both hands to prevent anything further coming out.

  I’ve learned from experience that silence can suffocate you if you let it. It’s an invisible presence, weighing heavily on your lungs, inevitably making it difficult to breathe and therefore speak in order to break it. Silence had suffocated me many times during the past eighteen months, and I was more than aware of its objective and overcame it before it succeeded. “I can’t do this,” I said quietly. “I thought I could but I can’t. I probably never will.” Turning around, I broke the water’s surface with my hands and pushed it behind me, propelling me forward so that I could make my way back to the bank as quickly as possible.