A Bloom of Darkness

Ash (his right hand) was doing her weekly rounds for signatures when she caught me grabbing the flowers out of their vase. Thinking she'd chastise me for destroying company décor, I became slightly defensive.

"What are you doing with those?" she asked slowly, reproachfully, and somehow apprehensively.

"I need them. It's this or spending more time and money on biomatter. What do you care?!" I snapped.

"Woah! I don't care. I'm curious and it's weird you're taking those flowers to, what? Feed to your mushrooms?"

"To see if they'll feed on them, yes. And it's not weird! Don't you know where you work?" She was the least nerdy person around. I wasn't sure what she was doing here really. And her closeness with Rory got under my skin. (Not that I was fully open to admitting that one, even to myself.)

"Does Rory know you're reallocating resources like that?"

"Does he need to?" I asked somewhat nervously. Her eyes lit up and I had a moment of panic, knowing I was in trouble.

"No. Again, just curious," she managed to spit out before practically skipping away, excited and giggling like the fucking idiot she was.

Something was very odd about that entire interaction. And a few hours later I couldn't stop thinking about it. I went to the lab over from mine to ask if there was anything sacred about the office décor or if I'd made some kind of faux pas. The guy running the lab next to mine was nice enough, but a bit eccentric. More of us were than not though, if I'm being honest. But he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. He'd never once had flowers appointed to his office for décor or any other reason.

Thinking it was possibly gender-based, but also fairly sure that wasn't the case, I went over to one of the other labs being run and managed by a woman. She also had absolutely no idea what I was talking about, but suggested I stop using them in the lab. Apparently Ash wasn't just his right hand when it came to work stuff. If she found something humorous about me using the flowers, he'd likely already know, and it probably wasn't good.

I didn't bother asking what she meant by that. Though I did appreciate her insight. No point in giving the impression that there was anything between me and the head of the company. The fact was that there wasn't, not anymore.

Still, the flowers kept bothering me. There was always a new bouquet every Monday morning when I got in. Naturally, I made a plan- I'd come in on Sunday, which wasn't exactly unusual of me, and camp out. If I was the only one getting these gorgeous flowers, I wanted to know what company was delivering them. More likely than not I could trace back whoever was purchasing them.

Obviously I assumed it was Rory. But I wanted to know if he was doing it publicly through the company or if he'd ordered them privately. I knew Ash didn't deliver them, she never showed up before noon- ever. Amusingly I had a brief flutter in my chest thinking about Rory delivering them. Yeah, the man in charge of a multi-million dollar biotech corporation taking the time to deliver flowers to an old fling. What a ridiculous notion. Besides, I'd really been more of a dirty secret. That was something I tried convincing myself of whenever I wanted to hate him.

My office was fairly spacious. We'd have meetings in there whenever my handful of underlings needed to be caught up with this or that or for celebratory events, birthdays and whatnot. The lab had only really been up and running for about four months at this point. I was yet to accumulate everyone's personal life data, but when I knew of a special occasion, I made sure it was celebrated.

There was a long, hardwood table with several eco-friendly chairs. I'd appointed the space with photos of heavy mists and fogs nestled in among serene forest landscapes. There was something about the greenery of the pines, first morning's light, and heavy, draping clouds kissing the earth. They relaxed me. That part of my office was off to one side, the other side had my desk and chair, bookshelves, and a sofa that I'd use for little cat naps when my brain would get tired. Or when I'd end up staying in the lab until three in the morning and didn't want to spend the time going home just to turn back around.

Sunday I spent a fitful night on my sofa. My old nightmares wouldn't let me be. The ones that reminded me that Greg was really the only living thing that ever expected any care from me. That he was the only living thing that had really given me any care for so, so long.

The motion sensor lights in the outer part of my lab kicked on around 5am. I'd turned the motion sensor lights off inside my office when I first started here. The damn things would always turn off while I was working, not moving enough to set them off. Now the intrusive outer lights roused me to groggily sneak under my desk. The flowers had always been placed on top of it, only for me to move them to the meeting table where they were out of my way.

I couldn't believe it, but a part of me must have known. If I hadn't heard him quietly singing under his breath I wouldn't have known for sure, and it would have been a bit of a surprise for both of us. He was wearing workout clothes, long black joggers and a tight black shirt. Of course he was, he'd drop the flowers off and go use the company's gym. Why else would he be up at this ungodly hour?! Some things never change.

I jumped out, surprising him, "AHA! It is you!" I was jubilant at having caught him, not really thinking about the implications of what that meant. Not at first, anyway. "Why are you doing this, Rory?" He stammered for a bit before his cheeks and ears started to turn red. Putting the flowers down, white hydrangeas, tulips, and night-blooming jasmine, he shook his head as he looked away from me.

"You deserve flowers. I... want you to have them."

"Why? Why would you think that? Want that? What could I possibly mean to you?"

"Lucia, come on!" He finally looked at me again. Moving around my desk to me, he stopped just in front of me, his entire being urgent, pleading. "I know you feel it too, don't—"

I quickly placed my hands on either side of his face, pulling him to me as I stretched up to kiss him. Maybe I shouldn't have, but in that moment all I wanted was him. And I knew he felt the same way. It wasn't just his words, there was something more, something... intrinsic.

My shoes were still off from when I'd laid down and I was now reminded about just how much taller than me he was. For a moment I was mortified. He wasn't kissing back, and it scared me. Worried I'd misread, well, everything, I began to back off. Letting him go, retracting my fingers from his hair, lowering myself back down, I could feel that old familiar agony piercing into my heart.

Before my feet were flat on the ground his arms had wrapped around me, pulling me to him. He kissed me like he had that summer so many years ago when we were teenagers. My chest still ached, but there was also joy and delight and euphoria.

Nearly all of the offices had mostly window walls, with that glass being one-way. No one else was in yet, but even if they were they mercifully couldn't see us. We were acting like teenagers all over again. Unable to keep our hands to ourselves, hearts racing, bodies reacting. When I felt his hard cock press against me through our clothes my body gave a little tremble. He broke our kiss then, his eyes wild and crazy as he took in all my lusty, flushed glory. I'd barely moved on from my goth girl phase and still very much disliked the bright sun. So I kept away from it, preserving my alabaster skin and preventing any sun bleaching of my dark hair.

My fair complexion was now tinted ruddy all over. I could feel the heat of it, exposing my intense desire. Given how much I wanted him, how much I could feel my body needing him, how wet I already was- my mound and lips were likely even redder. He'd found that fascinating one night all those years ago as we languidly rested in my childhood bedroom. The summer heat had lingered into the night and while that hadn't stopped us from fucking, it had stopped us from putting any kind of clothes back on or covering up whatsoever. Resting between my legs, he stared, admiring and tracing my lips, labia, occasionally dipping in further, everywhere his fingers would reach, enchanted by the red hue from my arousal and use.

Rory's eyes darted between my desk and my sofa. I knew what he was thinking, I'd been daydreaming about it since I got here. I also knew I liked my desk the way it was, without imprints of my ass all over my papers. Grabbing his shirt I made it clear I wanted it off. He obliged and I grabbed hold of his sides. Tugging him along as I moved backwards, kissing his chest and only stopping when I bumped into the sofa and stumbled back onto my ass.

As he kicked off his sneakers, distracted for all of three seconds, I grabbed the front of his sweats and boxers together and tugged them down. As his throbbing dick bobbed in front of me I grabbed hold, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan from the man I was afraid to love. His noises sent a ripple of pure ecstasy through me. When I looked up, he was staring down at me, his countenance dark and dangerous and desirous. Holding his gaze I moved my lips to the tip of his cock and began my worship.

Holding his balls in one hand, massaging them gently, I began twirling my tongue around the girth of his head. Slowly I worked myself further and further down his cock, my tongue sliding over every throbbing vein, exploring once familiar ridges, savoring a scent I'd hadn't realized I'd missed as I took as much of him as I could on my own. More and more of those deep grumbling moans came from him as he tenderly grabbed my hair. I was okay with tender, but I wanted rough. I wanted to feel how much he wanted me, how much he'd missed me, how much he needed to fuck me. As if he read my mind, he abruptly took a firmer hold and began face fucking me.

With him pushing I was able to take more of him than I ever had before. I worked to keep my gag reflex down, making my eyes water as I still held his gaze. While lustful tears ran down my cheeks he whispered, "Fuck, Lucia," right before he threw his head back, grunting and groaning. Holding me tightly down on his cock, I felt him firm up just before he emptied his load into my throat. Despite my efforts my gag reflex really kicked in and as I coughed and sputtered he looked back at me, directly into my watery eyes as I held myself onto him, needing him to drain himself into me.

Finished, he slowly let go of my hair, tracing his fingers through it gently, caressing my head and face. He kneeled in front of me, spreading my knees to bring himself closer to me as his chest slowly rose and fell with his heavy breaths. His fingers seemed somewhat shaky as he reached out to unbutton my blouse. He watched what he was doing, and so I watched him, my own hands running up and down and across his chest and neck. I couldn't believe how much I'd missed him. I knew it but having him under my touch again felt surreal.

Geisel once said, "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." Well, if this was a dream I'd be damned if I was ever going to wake up again.

A small, but exasperated sigh escaped him as he saw I wore a camisole under the button-up. Grinning sheepishly I removed the now unbuttoned blouse and helped as he pulled the cami up and over and away. A larger and still exasperated sigh came more forcefully when he saw my bra. (As if I could ever not wear one in public.)

"Damn it, woman. How many layers do you have?" he teased seeing how my face had lit up.

"Too many?" I asked coquettishly.

He kissed me as he reached behind me to unclasp my bra. Pulling the last layer away and letting my lips go, he professed, "Not anymore." Crashing back into me, kissing me as he palmed my breasts, he leaned me back against the sofa. Slowly working his way down to my chest he reveled once more in my generous tits, relishing how they reacted to his touch.

Unbuttoning my pants, he began tugging at them. Reactively I lifted my hips for him, and he slid the material down, leaving me in only my very unsexy underwear. He smiled and raised an eyebrow as he looked pointedly at the white cotton briefs.

"What?" I chided. "It's not like I expected this or you or...." He repeated the removal process with the panties. The last thing I saw was a silly grin of his before I covered my face with my hands. When he began to further spread my legs, positioning himself like he used to- I couldn't, I just couldn't let him!

"Arthur, don't! I... it's not like I've had any reason to wax or shave. Hell, I barely keep it—"

I was going to say trimmed, but the man pulled me to him with such hunger and force, he fizzled the word right out of my head. If any other words had ever had a hope, it was long gone as he dove into my pussy. Shockwaves of delight cascaded through me as he seemed to remember every bit of me. Yes, I was already very wet and completely aroused for him, but I still couldn't believe how quickly he made me cum. My thighs tightened around his head when he wouldn't stop, my hips bucking of their own volition. Somehow I managed to get onto all fours lengthwise on my sofa as a result of a ludicrous and desperate cunnilingus roll, with him still under me.

Just when it really was getting to be too much, he backed off. After he moved I collapsed on the sofa and turned my head to look up at him. Staring down at me, his face was shining with my juices, and he looked happier than I'd ever seen him. He leaned down to brush his hands over my body, spending some extra time on my ass and the crease at the bottom of my cheeks.

"What, you're not going to offer your boss a seat?" he quipped.

"Oh, do not call yourself that!" I playfully wailed as I scooted down, allowing his naked ass room to sit on my lovely leather sofa.

He leaned back, letting his head fall even further as he closed his eyes and reached for me. Laying my head on his lap, I began purring whenever he'd run his fingers through my hair. He still wasn't looking down, but I knew he was smiling. This was all such a whirlwind. I didn't understand why he'd waited so long to start anything.... Or why I'd cut off all connection with him when we were younger. I thought I was doing the smart, rational thing. I'd been an idiot. And I'd wasted time and energy on other people. Even in this post-orgasmic bliss I couldn't keep my mind present, instead jealously wondering how many other people he'd invested this kind of energy into.

"I want you to know that there hasn't been anyone since you. I never wanted anyone but you. I never have, and I never will."

"Rory...." I said as I sat up with my legs tucked under me. He still wasn't looking at me. Moving up onto my knees so I could see him better, I put my hands on either side of his face. When he opened his eyes I searched them, looking for any reason why I deserved this man's love.

"I like it better when you call me Arthur. And you don't do anything to deserve love, Lucia. You just do. Explaining why that is would be like describing the sky to a blind man. If you don't know it already it's a damn near impossible task and I don't know that it'd do much good. Some things you just have to live with, and hope you get to know."

"I should have been with you. I'm sorry I—" Pulling me down into a kiss, he moved me over his legs so I was straddling him. His hardening cock jerked up against me, beckoning me to put a hand down to help guide it to my warmth. I obliged. His mouth still on mine, he moaned as I impaled myself with his cock.

My hot, slick pussy was greedy for him, and in this position it'd be hard for me to bottom out and hit my cervix. As long as he didn't get too boisterous that is, which I knew would happen sooner rather than later. I started grinding on his cock as he grabbed for my breasts. Same old Arthur, I mused to myself.

He looked at me, eyes clouded over with some unrecognizable emotion. As if it pained him, he said his words slowly, enunciating each with meticulous care, "The Moon doesn't apologize to the darkness for being absent. You're the light I've been after, Lucia. And you're so beautiful and brilliant it hurts. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Only the bit about it hurting," I whispered as I brought my forehead to his, existing in the present moment and nothing more. No worries of the past, no concerns for whatever our future might hold, simply being, and being with him.

Sliding his rear down and off the couch while leaving his shoulders on it, he moved my feet to the ground and used the lack of resistance under him to powerfully thrust up into me. There was enough oomph behind his movements that I fell forward onto his chest. His back and shoulders still firmly on the couch, he held me, kissing me at times, holding me passionately to him otherwise, all the while pounding up into my pussy, eliciting erotic sounds I hadn't heard me make since our last time together.

I came at least twice while he savored having me like this, the hold, the control, the view. Both of us sweaty and panting, he finally slipped off the sofa completely, nearly taking me with him. Instead I caught myself, bringing his face an inch away from my pussy. Without hesitation he again buried himself, finding my aroused clit on contact.

"Arthur!" I playfully scolded as I stepped back. The mischief in his eyes worried me, but it also kept me from moving any further. He hopped up quickly, palming a breast while he kissed me and lowered me onto the sofa. Steadily he filled me, watching my face as my pussy took every bit of him. With half a grin and a head full of pride he started fucking me, making his own titillating, primal noises.

Again he fizzled my brain as he took me, fucked me, made love to me. Neither of us could get enough of one another. I suppose we did have time to make up for. A slight change of angle and I was cumming again, back arched and nipples painfully hard as I rode my waves of pleasure. As I hit my peak he went wild, enthusiastically letting go and forgoing any restraint. His own release followed quickly as he shot rope after rope of his warm seed deep inside me, right up against my cervix as he held himself there, driving me wild with the constant, electric mixture of pain and pleasure.

Almost instantly I could feel his cum dripping out around him. He'd always had large loads, but this seemed excessive. I squirmed at the flowing sensation, that and the feeling of his spent dick twitching deep within me. He held me tightly, rubbing his temple to mine as our sweaty bodies relaxed into one another. My fingers were still clinging to his back from when he came so fiercely. He moved, pressing his lips to my temple, holding them there.

His lips flush against me as they were, it wasn't possible for him to say a word. And yet, a voice, barely audible yet crisp even in its diminutive volume, clearly stated, "I love you, my light in the darkness." It was too much to have been imagined. And too much for him to have actually said without moving his lips. My body tensed at the strangeness of it all and he chuckled against my skin. When he pulled away I must have had an odd expression on my face.

He cocked his head and asked, "Something wrong, Lucia?"

How could I explain? There'd been enough bizarre occurrences whenever we got together, I didn't want to add anymore and risk scaring him away.

Broad, elated smile shining on my face, I shook my head. "No, Arthur. Nothing is wrong and everything feels amazing." He kissed me again and already I could feel his cock stiffening. I'd barely survived that round. I certainly wasn't ready for another one so soon. He grabbed me and flipped us over, placing me on top of his chest. It was occasionally annoying how strong he was, but very rarely.