AN: This chapter is the last for this series. Thank you to all of the wonderful readers who have reviewed. It's so lovely to know that you enjoy reading each week. I'm not certain when the next fic will be published, but an intro is up on my profile for anyone interested in taking a look. Until next time!
XXX
The city of Dublin was huge, but their intentions were to get straight to the bed and breakfast. City roads were complicated, particularly when the navigation system cut out, but Emma directed Will and finally they arrived at their accommodation.
It was like coming full circle. They had explored so much land and experienced such intensity; the journey was almost coming to an end. Soon they would be returning home to Lima; to students, and snow, and Christmas. A new year, too.
The bed and breakfast was eerily quiet. They signed in under the Pillsbury name, and made their way to the end of the hall to room six. The Victorian style home was grand, vastly different to the cottages and motels they had stayed in. The walls appeared strong; the ceiling of their room was high. The size of the bed didn't occupy the entire suite.
"I can't stop touching it," she gushed, her gaze downcast. Placing the suitcases down by the window, Will turned to Emma, and took her in. His bride admiring her ring. She was so gracious and appreciative. He had only given her a ring; just a promise. He could barely provide a life for her back in Lima. But they'd work together; a real relationship of equals.
Her gaze was fixated on her ring, and he thought that she was oblivious to him as he stepped around the room and slowly pulled the shutters closed. But she wasn't oblivious to him. She watched lightness seep from their room as the walls were basked in a greyish glow of orange. She knew everything as her gaze focused on the pearl. She wasn't naive to the sexuality Will embodied, how desperate he was to just take her on the bed.
When she raised her gaze, he was watching her. So still, so reverend. Watching his wife.
"You look tense," he purred softly, and her chest heaved.
He can feel what you feel.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "You just," she cleared her throat, "...you're always watching me."
The lump in his throat was constricting. He was worried for her.
"Well," he gripped the corner of the dressing table behind him. "You're very special and I've never met anyone quite like you..." He smiled softly, and received a simple gaze of idolisation from Emma. "So I stare when I can."
She tilted her head, and listened to the sounds of traffic outside their window. The city outside. "You never stared before...when we were at home in Lima."
His face fell. "Yes, I did." She turned her gaze away, and considered how to make the first move. It had all seemed so simple that morning. But in the moment, their love seemed inexperienced and awkward in its desperation. He moved to sit on the mattress, and Emma waited.
Moments passed, and Emma considered the thought that Will was perhaps more nervous than she.
She'd make the first move. Be a temptress, a seductress. Will would like to see that. He must get tired of the virgin guidelines, she convinced herself.
"I'm going to change," she whispered, her tone taking on another personality.
He turned his head, and caught her stare. "I don't want you to change," Will told her as he patted the mattress beside him. "Sit next to me."
The mattress was soft beneath her, and she felt heavy. They sat together for a short while, their fingers mingling. She felt larger than life, too tall to live up to expectation. But when Will's fingers gently pried the coat from her body, and her jumper from her torso, she felt small, lightweight, a child. And she wasn't suffocating.
Will shifted their position on the bed with a smile and nod from his wife, and Emma felt as though she was relaxing in his arms. For moments, she was his puppet, and her body distressed. They sat cross-legged upon the neatly made bed, in the middle of the mattress, where they were alone. He rested behind Emma, the cream bedspread beneath them shifting as he scooted closer to her, and rested his hands on her shoulders. At his touch, she braced herself, and grasped the headboard in front of her.
Slowly, his fingers pressed into her tense frame, and her body relaxed. He ran his fingers and palms over her petite frame, learning the curve of her back and the way her body heat seeped from the lilac blouse she wore. Flimsy, almost transparent material, and he could almost imagine how her bare skin felt beneath.
Emma sighed and closed her eyes.
His hands were warm, large on her small frame. She felt the press of his thumbs in the curve of her lower back, and she smiled. He massaged away non-existent knots, and his touch felt magical, uplifting, miraculous.
Emma opened her eyes, and looked at the headboard before her.
She felt his hands slide across her hips, over her abdomen and up, up, up. She anticipated the feel of his warm, strong hands on her breasts, holding her gently and relieving her of the small weight. Instead, his fingers worked the buttons to her blouse, and open it fell before he removed it, along with her bra.
Still, he never touched her breasts, and she craved his touch, fantasised that his fingertips were softly pinching her nipples. Calloused fingertips on such soft skin.
Will buried his face in her neck. She smelt like berries and vanilla. He ran the tip of his tongue from the side of her collarbone to her ear lobe and whispered, "I don't want to sound like a sweet-talker, and I know how receptive you are to corniness, but I'm being very honest when I tell you that you're intoxicating."
His tongue was hot. Wet. She couldn't stop the racing of her heart or the fire igniting inside her, and she didn't want to. But she could, for the first time, stop the voices in her head that screamed it was disgusting and wrong to make animalistic love. And she wanted that more than she wanted to make love to Will.
"You think I judge you," she sighed as the tip of his tongue brushed her earlobe, "...but I know you're very romantic."
"I prefer sensitive," he mumbled proudly.
He bit her earlobe. She gasped lightly.
"You're not sensitive...you're romantic," she stuttered lovingly. "I'm sensitive," she whispered, a hint of shame ringing through her tone.
She listened to the uneven pace of his breathing, his pants and nibbles that were spreading desperation over her skin like a plague.
Goosebumps.
"You're tempting." His admittance came as his hands shot up to her chest, and groped her breasts roughly.
A strangled hum of shock escaped from Emma's lips.
He felt her tense slightly, and then relax as he massaged her. She was awakening. And she wasn't afraid.
"I don't want you to be scared...if I say things, truthful things...things about you that drive me crazy," he pleaded softly, a whisper against her ear.
She trembled in anticipation. "I won't be afraid."
When he bowed his head, his kisses on her smooth skin were soft. He pressed the warm flesh of his lips all over her forehead, in a moment of wildness that overtook him. "Neither will I."
Emma undressed Will slowly, marvelling at his build, a body she had seen in all its naked glory a number of times, but never truly pleasured. She wanted that for him, and as she slipped his briefs from his legs, she promised herself she would love him the way she wanted to; to see pleasure drip from his lovely features and know it was all her doing.
When they were bare, their chests heaving and hearts hammering, Emma scrambled beneath the covers with as much grace as she could muster. Will rested beside her, and as kisses became deeper and hotter, his hands wandered too far and he couldn't stop himself from climbing above her.
"This is so real..."she whispered as his lips closed around the arch of her throat. "You make me feel beautiful."
He moaned into a kiss, and her hips rose from the bed in surprise. "Shh," she mumbled, "In case someone hears us."
Will groaned. "Honey, it's a bed and breakfast. This is what people do in a bed and breakfast," he informed patiently, playfully running his fingers across her abdomen.
"Really?" she whispered, her eyes wide and her expression glowing such innocence.
He smiled softly, gently smoothing her hair back from her face. "Yes."
Her eyes screamed that she needed more, but she seemed to appreciate his gentleness.
He lowered his face into the crook of her neck and breathed her in. He'd never have to be alone again. The smell of Emma, the feel of Emma, the taste of Emma; her warm hold would always be his. His body relaxed as he felt the velvet skin of her thigh press against his. He was so safe.
"So all this time people have been assuming we've been making love?" Emma asked curiously, her fingernails slowly trailing over his shoulder blades, drawing invisible patterns. Such an experienced act for a virgin. She understands, Will thought. She knows how to be intimate. What you need to show her how to...how to...What on earth is there left for you to teach her?
"I don't know how much they really thought about it," he chuckled. "But we have a lot to make up for."
Emma giggled.
He was gentle with his kisses, and slowly, as his kisses lowered, he would pull back to take in her expression. Always, Emma seemed content. Her eyelids would flutter, and he felt her body heave beneath his lips.
He pulled away from her, and granted her a moment's composure that he needed mostly for himself. She couldn't see his lower half beneath the covers, and he kept from pressing against her as best he could. He didn't want to frighten her. In certain moments, she was fragile.
But as Will pulled away, the blankets shifted and she saw him completely. His arousal was strong, and Emma swallowed at the logistics of the act. Will's gaze was downcast when she looked up to him, his own eyes blatantly focused on her calves, thighs, and what lay between them.
"Are you a leg man?" Emma asked with a blush when he refused to meet her gaze.
His eyes ran up her body, over his lips and to her eyes. A flash of seriousness washed over his features. His hand ran over her thigh, squeezing it softly before he drew his palm over her stomach and to her breast once more. He trapped a nipple between his fingertips, and brushed it softly.
"I'm your man."
He lowered his head and began sucking on her taut skin, his mind cloudy with the texture between his lips.
She was drowsy, too. His free hand slid all over her body, and she hummed with delight when he laid his fingers tightly between her legs, and ever so slowly, began to circle them. Her stomach muscles quivered. He pressed himself against her. His knuckles pressed into her, his fingers arching down onto her nub.
He adored her for minutes, coaxing her to bliss. She was quiet, controlled as her hips tilted in an innocent search for release.
And it came.
"Will..." she breathed in a desperate cry, and he brought his mouth to her chest.
Her fingers twisted in his curls, and he was surprised by the tight grip her hands fisted in his hair.
The tremors that wrecked her body were intense.
"I love doing that to you," Will smirked proudly, but his words were lost in the haze that confronted her. Aftershocks ran through her lower half, and she wondered if feeling would return to her legs, or if they were dead weights forever.
Will was insatiable. He laced kisses all over her body, and threw the sheets back to help Emma cool off. He kissed her sweat away, and ground against her, reminding her that there was more. There was always more.
She couldn't stop herself from writhing against him, and she refused to stop touching him when he reached for protection. She didn't mind when he laid upon her and rested himself upon her belly.
Their hands ran madly, holding onto each other as they searched for a comfortable position. Emma pressed against him for more.
When she felt him between her legs, his warm arousal pressing into the wetness between her thighs, her eyes widened.
But god, she wanted it. She could almost feel it. And she needed it.
She clasped her hands low over his back, and raised her head. She closed her mouth over his shoulder, and anticipated the pain that would come before pleasure. She pressed her palms into his tattoo, and urged him into her.
Fuck.
There were too many sensations for her body to register, so she ignored them all until one was ruler.
His hand supported her raised head, and she tried to relax against him.
Fullness. Not pleasure or pain. Fullness was king.
His lower lip trembled when she pulled back and sighed against the pillow.
And her smile relieved him completely. He closed his eyes, and she watched him as he moved within her.
"Finally," he breathed. He pushed in further, very slowly. "Ohh...finally."
Truthfully, he had never really entertained what it would feel like to be with Emma. He had imagined her aroused expressions, and toyed with possibilities of sounds she would make, or if she'd be completely silent. But feeling, physical feeling, he had never contemplated.
She was tight. Tight and hot and warm, and a virgin. He was her first. It was possessive, and he tried to disregard the notion. But each time he pressed into her, and drew out, he was reminded of the pressure that consumed him. A virgin. Sweet, soft, hot virgin Emma.
She tried to help him out. She raised and swivelled her hips, and he moaned and grunted.
Sweat broke out all over his body, and suddenly, he was clammy and needy. His hand fell to her lower back, and he tried to lift her against him to help her out. But she barely felt pleasure with Will holding himself so far from her, trying desperately to not overwhelm her. And she had read enough to know that he couldn't last. His face was painted with desperation and worry.
His thrusts were short and shallow, and she watched him as her nails dug into his inked skin.
When he opened his eyes, she tried to glance away.
"Why are you scared, Emma?" he panted, his tongue falling to lap at her breasts.
"I'm not..." she murmured, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. "I've just never felt..." she trailed off.
"You have," he grunted in earnest. She felt his abdominal muscles press against her own. "We both felt this so long ago." He raised his gaze, and swallowed deeply as he tried to slow his thrusts for her. "Emma, I-
She steadied his face in her palms. "No more talking."
Will fell complete fullness, heaviness, and so did Emma. His body was pressing her into the mattress, and she felt as though she was falling into a pit of truth and need.
He rested his face in her neck. She turned her head and looked into the mirror, saw him moving above her, his hand on her thigh, his lips on her neck. She looked away. She wanted to feel it. She had seen enough in the last month to make her only want to feel for the rest if her life.
She enjoyed the way she made Will convulse. She rejoiced in his shudders of pleasure, his pleas for her to come, although she knew she was spent long before they had started.
He shuddered above her, she was blissful in her realisation that he was young again, and she couldn't ever be the cause of his ageing. Her husband.
He kissed her and pulled back to take her in, hair wild and chest heaving. His sweat on her chest.
She smiled softly, and felt empowered.
"I'd like to have a bath, Will."
XXXX
They bathed together, in the wide tub filled with warm water. The afternoon was fading into night, and Emma watched the sunset over Will's shoulder as her naked back pressed against the end of the porcelain tub. Emma sat at one end, Will at the other, and he didn't watch the sunset. Instead, he watched Emma.
"Did you like it?" Will whispered, a grin slowly etching its way across his lips as her foot slowly ran over his calf beneath the water.
She blushed and brought her knees to her chest. "Yes." I can't wait to learn how to love you as you need to truly be loved. He stretched his legs out, and rested them at her sides underwater. "Of course..." she hesitated for a moment and gathered her thoughts.
"It isn't all I made it out to be," Emma admitted. "It's about closeness, really," she carefully considered. "Being close to you."
Will tilted his head back against the rim of the bath, and Emma appreciated the way his damp curls stuck up every which way- her playful doing.
Will pressed his big toe against Emma's thigh, and smiled reassuringly. "You feel amazing. Every part of you."
They locked gazes, and Emma felt her body flush with confidence. Her life was before her, naked in a hotel tub.
They both lowered their gazes, and Emma felt the surface of the water swim around her breasts. She looked down through the transparent liquid to take in her nakedness. Her breasts that had once seemed too small were beautiful, her waistline not too thin and not too wide. She was perfect, and seeing herself in a new light caused her to blush.
When she looked up, Will was watching her. His playful grin was gone, and he appeared serious, dark. Like he wanted more. In time, she would give him all that she could, the parts of herself she wished to share.
As she gazed at him curiously, his features brightened, and the sun set behind him. "Do you want to get out of this tub and go and meet Dublin?" he asked.
Emma nodded and stood, but before she could step out of the tub or even reach for her towel, he grasped her hand.
"Kiss me."
She bent down, tilted her head, and kissed him, long and hard.
XXXX
The pub was alive with music and dance, the patrons fuelled with Irish brew, proud and enthusiastic to celebrate an ordinary night in the heart of Ireland. Will was proud, too.
He sat next to Emma on a bar chair, and just watched her. She was happy, her eyes alight and her cheeks flushed with bliss. She was taking it all in, the culture around her, the laughter and music. And Will loved her. He loved her so deeply that his body seemed to rush with excitement. He wanted it all. He wanted to give her everything. But it wasn't about that anymore, and slowly, they were both learning the reasons why.
She wasn't different. She was Emma. Her eyes were bright and large, her hair as red as ever, and her touch as sweet as safety. Will cursed his conscience for always waiting for her eyes to darken; for a lack of lightness to mean that she wanted more, that she'd be more passionate. The happiness that glowed from her face, as they danced and laughed in that Dublin pub, was irresistible; there was no longer a search for darkness, for he'd never find it in Emma Pillsbury's eyes.
And he'd make sure there was always a spotlight in Emma Schuester's eyes.
The wind was cold when they stepped outside. Their first night in Dublin had been incredibly enjoyable. They had sang and danced, and when he held her hands in his on the dance floor, he had touched the newly-discovered hum of her body, and felt it transpire in his bones.
"What?" Emma whispered, the corners of her lips upturned in an innocent smile as she slipped her hand into his.
"I'm just remembering how you looked today," he breathed in her ear. They stepped up to their rental car, and Will leant against the driver's door.
She bit her lip softly, and he watched her expression as she leant against the car, their shoulders brushing. "When?"
"When I was touching you this afternoon...making love to you..."
A blush warmed Emma's cheeks at the memory, and she pulled her cream coat tighter around her, adjusting her scarf as best she could. She remembered the sounds, the pride on Will's face as he coaxed and teased her. "I must have looked messy."
He shook his head slowly, and pushed himself off the car. She felt dizzy, and her body tingled with tension. He stood before Emma, and she gazed up at him. His eyes no longer looked pained, he seemed calmer than usual. "You looked sexy." He held her hand tighter in his, and brought it to rest on his chest. "Stunning." She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm. "You were so astoundingly stunning."
Emma swallowed over the lump in her throat. They had made love, and yet, the lust had yet to dissolve. Never had she ever felt so liberated.
"I can't believe you're my husband."
Her words were laced with a drug that Will hoped they would one day detox from their lives. Expectation had no place in their marriage. Soon they would realise they were as good as one another, that they both deserved everything.
"I know," he breathed unevenly. "I can't believe I'm your husband."
As they stared, Emma watched his hazel eyes begin to well with tears. Her beautiful, sensitive Will was still a boy.
His arm curled around her body, and he moved closer to her, remembering how it had felt to hold her naked in his arms hours before. He would forever crave such closeness.
"Take me home, Em," he breathed against her neck as he pressed her against the car.
She wound her fingers into his curls, and held his face against her skin. She felt his breath, warm and damp on her neck. Emma was enough for Will, and Will was enough for Emma. Finally, she had realised that she was what he craved, all that he desired.
"You're already home."