Note: Adult content,you can skip if you like. And if you like continue reading.
Should I continue? Alder asked.
No… Willow said, but—
I'm sorry, Alder said and got off her.
Wait… Willow held his hand and continued, "I mean we should continue inside the room, it's more comfortable on the bed," she said with a smile.
Alder gave a soft smile while Willow smiled too.
His mouth crashed back to hers, kiss deep, hungry, tasting the sweet desperation in her. He kissed her until they were both gasping.
Without breaking contact, he hooked one arm under her thighs and lifted her again in one smooth motion. Her gasp escaped against his lips, but she clung to him, legs tightening around his waist.
He carried her through the dim apartment, every step deliberate, every second a silent vow: I'm not letting you go this time.
Willow's heart pounded so hard she could hear it echo in her ears. She buried her face against his neck, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of him — woodsmoke and something uniquely Alder.
When they reached the bedroom, Willow pointed at the door since this is Alder's first time at her house; Alder nudged the door open with his foot.
Soft shadows danced along the walls. The room was a study in contrasts — white linens against more black: curtains, headboard, the faint shimmer of silk sheets. Elegant. Intimate. Lonely… until now.
He set her down gently on the bed. For a moment, he just stood there, towering over her, chest rising and falling fast, eyes burning into hers.
Willow lay there breathless, sweater slipping from one shoulder, hair tousled from their kisses. She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes that spoke what her lips couldn't: I need you.
Alder reached for the hem of her sweater, pausing only when his fingers brushed the soft skin of her waist. His eyes flicked to hers, silently asking.
Willow lifted her arms in answer.
He peeled the sweater off slowly — reverently — revealing her bare skin beneath. The sight of her stole his breath.
"You're beautiful…" he rasped, voice hoarse with need.
Willow's lips parted, a faint blush creeping across her cheek. "Don't start with me…" she whispered.
He has always been fond of teasing her like this.
He knelt over her, hands roaming down her sides, savoring every inch. Then his mouth followed — trailing soft, wet kisses along the gentle swell of her breasts, down her ribs, over the soft plane of her abdomen.
Willow arched beneath him, a soft moan escaping as his lips worshipped her skin.
When he reached her lower belly, he nuzzled her gently there, inhaling her scent — and then pressed a lingering kiss that made her hips tremble.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, voice breathless. "Don't stop…" she pleaded, her words shaking with emotion this time.
Alder looked up at her, something dark and tender in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, voice low.
His hands smoothed down her thighs, kneading them with slow, deliberate care. His lips returned to her skin, trailing kisses lower, slower, savoring the way her body responded to him — each sigh, each shiver, each whispered plea urging him on.
Time blurred. There was no past in this room. No betrayal. No pain. No looming death.
Only this moment. Only them.
And Alder intended to make her feel every second of it.
Willow's breath caught as Alder's lips traveled lower still, igniting a trail of molten heat beneath her skin.
Every kiss. Every slow, deliberate touch. It was as if he was imprinting himself upon her—claiming what he had tried so long to deny.
Her fingers clutched his hair tighter, back arching as a soft cry escaped her lips. "Don't stop…" she whispered again, her voice breaking with need.
Alder's heart clenched at the sound. Really? he teased her again.
She hit him playfully on his forearm. "Stop teasing me, Alder," and smiled.
He smiled and worshipped her body with reverence, kissing the soft insides of her thighs, savoring the faint tremble in her muscles, the way her skin warmed beneath his touch. His hands slid upward, kneading her hips gently, as if molding her to his grip, grounding her as her body quivered beneath him.
"Look at me," he murmured.
Willow forced her gaze open, her eyes glassy with desire, breath ragged.
When their eyes met, something passed between them — a silent understanding, raw and wordless. They both knew there were things they couldn't say… but here, in this moment, they spoke through touch.
Alder rose, leaning over her again, catching her mouth in a bruising kiss that stole her breath all over again. One hand tangled in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss, while the other traced the delicate curve of her waist, her hip, her trembling thigh.
She whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more.
His voice was rough, strained. "I need you, Willow…"
"Then take me," she whispered, arching up against him, her voice a blend of surrender and longing.
That single sentence shattered the last thread of Alder's restraint.
With trembling fingers, he shed the last barriers between them — his clothes falling away until their skin met, bare and burning. The sensation stole the breath from both their lungs.
He paused only for a moment, hovering above her, gaze locked with hers. "Are you sure?" he asked again, voice a ragged whisper.
Willow reached up, cupping his face between her palms, her touch soft but certain. "Yes," she whispered and nodded at the same time. "Please, Alder…"
That was all he needed.
He claimed her slowly at first — as though committing each inch of her to memory. The joining was tender, achingly intimate, yet beneath it a wildfire burned between them.
Willow gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body welcomed him fully.
"Alder—" she moaned softly, head falling back, exposing her throat to his hungry kisses.
He moved within her with a rhythm that spoke of both desperation and devotion — each thrust slow, deliberate, designed to make her feel everything he hadn't been able to say aloud.
Their bodies moved in perfect sync, a dance older than words. Skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.
Willow's breath came in broken gasps now. "Don't stop…" she pleaded again, voice thick with pleasure, her body trembling beneath him.
"I won't," Alder vowed hoarsely, burying his face in her neck. "I can't."
He held her tighter, as if anchoring her to him, pouring all the love and guilt and longing he'd carried into every movement, every kiss.
Their rhythm built higher, faster — a crescendo of shared need neither could control.
When release finally tore through her, Willow cried out his name, her entire body arching against him, shattering in his arms.
Alder followed moments later with a low, broken groan, holding her as if he would never let go again.
For a long time after, they lay tangled together — breathless, sweat-slicked, hearts still racing.
Alder pressed a kiss to her temple, voice rough. "I love you…" he whispered against her skin. "I loved you then… I love you now, and I promise to love you forever." He vowed.
Willow's lashes fluttered as she looked up at him, her voice soft but steady. "I love you too."
He kissed her again — slow, reverent. "I'm not leaving again."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Willow let herself believe it.
After a few minutes, Willow kissed him again slowly with Alder responding to her slowly before Alder asked,
"Do you want to be on the top or down?" he teased.
Willow used one hand to cover her eye from embarrassment.
"Can you stop asking embarrassing questions?"
"Is it embarrassing?" he teased with a smile.
While Willow blushed from shyness and buried her face at the nape of his neck.
The room was filled with their passion; they couldn't seem to get enough of each other and couldn't get their hands off each other.
It was as if they were trying to fill the void of the past 4 years of separation.
The passionate night only ended at the dawn of the morning with both satisfied.
After the passionate night, Willow had already slept off while Alder slept with his back against the bedrest looking at Willow while she wrapped her hand on his waist.
Heartless woman, Alder said, but she couldn't hear since she's asleep.
He had loved her for more than eight years and couldn't love her less no matter what.
He planned the wedding to lure her; he had thought she would come forward to tell him how much she regretted leaving him and he would have canceled the wedding for her, but she decided to kidnap him and made the whole matter worse.
He already investigated her when Reed was looking for the anonymous shoe and bag designer and got to know she had not been in any other relationship for years.
Maybe she still liked him a little.
She has always made decisions without thinking deep about the outcome, and that has become part of her.
She's still his Will but older and more mature now, he thought and smiled looking at her peaceful face.
The first time he met her felt like yesterday.