Page 98 of F*ckboys

Chapter 55

Fallon

As I step onto the boat, Aksel's hand on the small of my back guiding me, I can't help but roll my eyes. A romantic dinner cruise? Seriously? It sounds like something my parents did decades ago when they were still together.

The yacht glides smoothly across the water under the moonlit sky, casting a mesmerizing glow on the rippling waves. Lights on the shore twinkle like pretty strings of diamond bracelets. And although I want to brush it off as cheesy, I have to admit, there's something utterly enchanting about it.

"Really, Aksel? A dinner cruise?" I tease him, arching an eyebrow and smirking. "What are you, eighty years old?"

He feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to sulk. "Ouch, Fallon. That one cut deep," he says,his faux old-man voice dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you'd appreciate a little romance. Something a little bit special."

"Romance?" I snort, unable to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside me. "This is so cliché." But despite my words, I feel a warm, fuzzy sensation spreading through my chest as we take our seats at a private candlelit table, set intimately for two.

"Fine, next time I'll just order pizza and we'll watch Netflix," Aksel retorts playfully, shooting me a sidelong glance that makes my stomach flutter. "But you'd be missing out on some top-notch food here, Fallon."

"Okay, okay, I'll give you that," I concede, my gaze wandering over the beautifully plated dishes set before us. Aksel has always been a man of exquisite taste, and tonight is no exception. As we dig into our meal, exchanging playful banter and teasing each other mercilessly, I realize that the setting, as cliché as it may be, holds a certain charm that I can't deny. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm falling for it—and for Aksel—more than I ever thought possible.

As the evening wears on, our conversation takes a more serious turn. Aksel asks about my work and my family, seeming genuinely interested in getting to know me on a deeper level. So much time has passed since he was thoroughly intertwined in my teenage years that we have a lot to catch up on. His thoughtfulness catches me off guard, and I find myself opening up to him in a way I rarely do with anyone. It's like we're back in his room again, each wearing one headphone from his music player, sharing our innermost secrets and feelings.

When the waiter brings out dessert, I slide a small gift bag across the table to Aksel. He looks at me quizzically, eyebrows raising in surprise. "What's this? A gift for me? Tonight I'm meant to spoilyou."

I shrug, feigning nonchalance despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. "Just a little something. You know, since you went to so much trouble planning this evening."

Aksel pulls the tissue paper out of the bag, and for a moment he just stares at the contents, silent. My anxiety spikes, and I rush to fill the silence. "It's, uh, just a first edition of one of your favorite childhood books. I know how much you loved the Hardy Boys, and how hard it can be to find, so I thought—"

But before I can finish, Aksel looks up at me, eyes shining with emotion. "Fallon, this is...amazing. Perfect, really. How did you know? This is the one book I've been missing, and now I have the complete set."

A flush creeps up my neck at the awe in his voice. I glance away, embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze. "I pay attention," I say softly. “And it always used to be your favorite. I remember you showing me your collection back when you had that special shelving system in your room.”

Aksel reaches across the table, grasping my hand in his. I meet his eyes again and see depths of tenderness there that make my breath catch. "You always surprise me," he says, his thumb grazing slow circles over my knuckles, his touch sending electric shivers up my arm. "There are so many layers to you, Fallon, and I find myself discovering new ones every day. I knew you were complex, my Fallon-y, but I never realized the extent. I have a feeling that even if I lived forever, I'd still be learning new things about you every day."

A warmth blossoms in my chest at his words, which are way more meaningful than any physical intimacy we've yet shared, as wonderful as those moments have been. In this moment, I realize that what we have between us is far deeper than I ever thought it could be. And as Aksel lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my fingers, I know with certainty that I'm falling irrevocably, terrifyingly in love with this man.

We stumble through the front door of my condo, lips fused together, hands roaming and grasping. Aksel kicks the door shut behind us and backs me up against the wall, pinning me there with the hard length of his body.

I moan into his mouth as his hands slide under my shirt, callused fingers splaying over the sensitive skin of my stomach. Need rises up within me, hot and urgent, fueled by the memory of our earlier encounters and the new depths of intimacy we've reached tonight.

When Aksel's hands reach for the clasp of my bra, an idea sparks in my mind. I place my hands on his chest and push him back, breathless. "Wait here," I say, and slip away into my bedroom closet.

Aksel is obedient, waiting by the entrance to my bedroom, curiosity etched into the lines of his face. I emerge a moment later with a length of soft rope and a pair of handcuffs dangling from one finger.

His eyes widen, then darken with lust as understanding dawns. "Fallon," he growls, stalking toward me, "you're full of surprises."

I grin up at him, anticipation thrumming through my veins. "I told you I like to play rough."

Aksel takes the rope and cuffs from my hands, securing my wrists behind my back with the rope with a skill that sends heat pooling between my thighs. "And I like to indulge you," he purrs against my ear, nipping at the tender lobe.

“How did you get so good at that? Have you been tying lots of people up or something?” I feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of him learning to expertly bind rope by practicing on any other woman.

“Yacht club,” he smirks, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me. Wow, I never considered myself a jealous person but he's sure bringing it out in me.

He guides me to the bedroom, where the only light comes from the moon outside the window, and proceeds to lavish my body with touches both rough and reverent.

Heat radiates off Aksel's skin like a furnace, each of his touches like lightning strikes. He loosens the bindings behind my back and pulls my hands to my sides, and now ties my wrists to the headboard of the bed with the rope, binding them just enough to leave me vulnerable but not tight enough to hurt me. He bites his lip as his eyes trace over every inch of me, hungrily taking in the sight of my bare body. I whimper when he runs his fingers down my stomach, tracing the delicate lines of my ribcage and hips. His breath is hot against my skin as he kisses my neck and down my throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. I shudder under his touch. He pinches my nipples hard, making me cry out, and then trails hot kisses down my stomach. His teeth graze my hipbone before he nips at the skin there. I arch my back, wanting more.

His hands grip my thighs, lifting me up to position me on the edge of the bed. I gasp as he roughly slides into me. I'm writhing and incoherent, awash in a sea of sensation. He claims me with each thrust, filling me up completely. I bite my lip to stifle my moans, feeling the pain and pleasure intertwine in a way that sends shivers down my spine. He's rough and demanding, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes what's his. Our lovemaking is frenzied, almost desperate, carrying echoes of our first time but underscored by a new tenderness.

Our bodies move together in a violent dance, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the silence of the room. Every word is a groan, every touch a caress tinged with anger and desire.

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