The Fear

Fahmeen's POV:

I walk to the sofa, intending on watching some TV. The Sons of Anarchy were calling me.
Suddenly, I get pulled back and into a familiar pair of arms. He smells my hair and kisses my neck.
"And where do you thing you're going?"
His deep voice rumbles like a lazy lion who's eaten a satisfying prey. Ready for the night.
"I want to watch Sons of Anarchy." I mumble, stifling my laugh as his beard is beginning to tickle me.
I hear his groan as he suddenly picks me up bridal style.
"I'm not that heavy!" I move away from his incoming lips as he chuckles.

As we enter the bedroom, I let his lips devour mine. Suddenly we're hungry for each other, tonight of all nights. My plan, or Jasper's plan, fell apart the moment I got engaged.

He lays me down, and I've noticed he's become so careful with me when we're intimate.
"Don't be afraid to touch me."
His eyes widen at my words and we go back to our first kiss. His reluctance and my forwardness then. I didn't want history to repeat itself tonight. As he holds himself above me, he watches as I lift up his shirt and take it off. I roam his chest and body, feeling the sexy hardness and muscle. He stays still as I do this and just watches.

"Lay back." I tell him. He does exactly that and I straddle him. I feel his desperate eyes scorch every inch of skin that reveals to his sight as I strip myself of my top.
He jolts as he sees my bra.
It's black.
It's lace.
The favourite.
"Fuck."
He's keeping his hands on either side of him, not allowing himself to touch me. The hesitancy is burning me.
"Don't be afraid." I take his hands and place them on my breasts, he sucks in a breath.
"To touch."
My words slip out as a whisper.

The predator ready for the night comes out now. Those soft, reluctant hands now squeeze me so that my nipples can be seen above the lining of my bra. Rolf keeps our eyes connected as he bends down to tug the fancy material. As he does this, one of his fingers slip beneath my underwear and into my pussy.

Rolf keeps a slow building rhythm penetrating me like this and watching my expressions. I hold his free hand to my breast and together we knead, taking me higher.

After a while, things take a drastic turn. Rolf suddenly pulls down my bra, letting my breasts spill out as they're heavier. He unclips it from the back and his mouth latches onto my nipples in turn. The combination of what he's doing with his fingers and mouth are driving me insane.

"Take out my cock." He pants.
When he's free of clothing, we sit like we were and kiss. Our mouths are joined in a passionate and sexy union, much like how I want our bodies to be.
Amidst his tongue fucking my mouth his cock slips inside me. We both gasp as the passion is intense tonight. Love running deep.
"Look me in the eyes."

We make slow, steamy love in the lotus position, not wanting to break contact in any way. I'm falling deeper for him, and I thought that wouldn't be possible. His hands keeping me close and tight around his cock, as he grips my ass. We can't be apart.

...

"I'm worried about my exams." I kick off our pillow talk as we lay side by side, facing each other. He watches me and strokes my body. I snuggle closer, wanting to be in his heat.
"Why, baby?"
"I feel like life at the moment is crazy. I love it, but I don't know how I'm supposed to prepare for Willow, our wedding and afterwards."
He comes close so that his lips are nearly touching mine. His hand pulls me close by my ass and I feel his cock nestle against my body.
"There's time for Willow and the wedding. Leave afterwards to me. Don't stress baby. I'm half of you, remember? Anything you deal with I deal too. This is our life and it's crazy, sure. But fucking incredible, right? So focus on that. Focus on enjoying every second that goes by."
He speaks so passionately, I lose myself in his words. My soul feels lighter when he helps me. Like he literally shares my load.

"Okay." I whisper.
"Yeah?" He kisses me and his hands brush my hips which make me tickle. I can't help the laugh that escapes me as he suddenly grabs me close and kisses all over my face.
"Yes! Okay." I giggle and he wraps my legs around his waist before thrusting deep inside of me.

...


*I'm high up and I think I can see the clouds below me. I hate being alone here and the further I walk along this mountain top the more nervous I get. In fact, there's a sickening feeling building in the pit of my stomach as I get closer to the mountain's edge. I cannot see much as there's fog but it isn't good what awaits me.*

*It's silent but her eyes scream horror and fear. Willow is begging me to help her but the rope around her neck is getting tighter by the man with no face. He stands incredibly close to the edge behind her and he faces away from me. Rage bursts from the depths of my chest as I want nothing more than to rip away the anonymous flesh which hides his identity from me.*

*I see familiar shoes on his feet, ones I'd associate with the man I call father. As I step closer, he holds her tighter intending to throw her away.
"Baby, don't look down." I try to reassure her before calculating how to rescue my child from this monster. And in this short moment, we share eye contact and hers succumb to a sense of security one could only get from their mother. But as I warily get closer, the man with no face stiffens and suddenly pushes her off.
"NO!"*

*My screams lose themselves in the mysterious mountain mist as Willow falls to her death.*

*My fault. My fault. A mantra as I am now standing where she was.
"Do it." He whispers. I look at the man and I see my father.
"You did this." He tells me.*

*I did this. I did this. And so I fall, death already taken me from the inside.*

As I lay awake next to Rolf, my own pillow is soaked with tears. He's going to hurt our baby. My father is going to kill my baby.

...

Susan's POV:

The store is busy and I have to constantly mind my trolley from running kids. I can only feel warmth as I imagine my grandchild and how she grows inside my child day by day. It's torturous passing by the children's section and not buying anything yet as it's too early.
I remember I always keep it with me so I feel for the wooden figure in my pocket, heart at ease knowing she's still there.

I can't help myself and take it out, suddenly overwhelmed with love for my future son in law. His bare hands crafted this for me. To always remind me of our new addition. New love.

I smell someone familiar. I can't help the way my heart accelerates as the sound of his leather jacket approaches me. It's not out of love anymore though but rotten fear that doesn't escape me.
"Susan."

I see him carry a basket, barely holding many items. I stop myself from wandering about his life as I shouldn't care.
I don't say anything to George and he seems a little taken aback as we just stare at each other. Soon, he grows bored and looks at my hands instead. I get a surge of protectiveness and grip my willow tree tight, instantly regretting not putting it away.

"Fancy ornament. I haven't seen those around here." He makes a show of looking around at the shelves surrounding us.
I regard him suspiciously even though he's got no clue as to what it is. I should be reassured, but I'm not.
"It's none of your business."
George narrows his eyes at me, not expecting my show of hostility. The wheels seem to turn in his head as he ponders my unusual behaviour regarding this simple figure.

"It's uniquely beautiful. Personal, even. A gift?" Our eyes meet and I feel like my heart stops. He was always quick to catch on. I refuse to have a flashback to when a similar situation occurred whilst we were still together.

"Like I said, it's none of your business." I go to walk past him but he says something.
"As it's so special I can only assume it's to do with that daughter of ours. I thought you had disowned her?" He mocks me but I refuse to look at him.
"If she is back in your life, I assume he is too. How is my grandchild?"
I look at him then and he feels like he's won.

"Don't speak about them. They're not your family, anymore. We're not your family anymore."
As I walk away from him, I can't help but feel threatened and a little scared. He was always unpredictable, my husband.