Author's Note: I'm really sorry it took so damned long before I managed to pull myself together and write this last chapter (hopefully the smut will make up for that). Not only have I been amazingly lazy on my writing these past months, but I've also had a lot to think about when it comes to school. I'm really sorry it took me two goddamned months to update this story. But here it is. Although, alas, we've reached the end. This is the last chapter. Thank you all so much for bearing with me during this last half year (yes, it took me that long to write this fucking story on merely 8000 words or something). Thank you for reading, and of course for reviewing. I hope you all enjoy this last chapter. Thank you all very much. Also, I am sorry for all the grammar errors that may have occured during the story. I'm not English and I do not have a beta for my DS related writing, so that's my excuse. Lol. Again. Have a good read, and sorry about my rant.

Chapter Six: Not Supposed To Love You Anymore

Almost four weeks had passed when Mr. Crepsley returned with Vancha, and it had been four weeks of hell. His words had hurt me so much that he could rip my heart out, step on it, stab it, rip it to pieces, and I wouldn't feel a thing. But still, when I thought of his eyes fixed at me; his swollen lips placed on mine; his hands roaming all over my body — I would smile. I wasn't supposed to love him anymore, but I did. I did love Mr. Crepsley, and nothing would — could — ever change that.

During those four weeks I had done nothing but think, do homework, think, spend time with Debbie, think, and meet Steve, my childhood friend again. And did I mention think?

Every day, every hour, every minute, every goddamned second, he would be lurking around in my thoughts. In one way or the other, he would be the one I was thinking of.

Sometimes I wondered if he really meant what he had said. A foul's hope some would say, but I hoped that he had lied to me. That deep down he did return my feelings.

Other times, however, I thought the opposite. I thought that he had meant what he had said, that he did it only because he looked upon it as his duty to lecture me about sex. But I didn't want to believe it, although I couldn't believe that he loved me either.

I also had a third option. The option I feared the most. The one which clearly said that Mr. Crepsley was doing it because he needed sexual release. But what scared me the most about it, was that if it was the case, then I wouldn't care as long as he would touch me, feel me. Kiss every inch of my body.

- - -

When Mr. Crepsley returned with Vancha, I didn't say a thing. I just greeted him, and kept mostly silent for the rest of the evening, until Steve and Debbie left, and Vancha and Harkat decided to go to bed.

Or, to put it more simply: I didn't say anything until I were alone with Larten.

"How was the funeral?" I asked casually, looking at his long legs.

"It was as any other funeral," Mr. Crepsley replied. "Nothing out of the ordinary — Paris would not have wanted that — but of course a lot of people wanted to bid farewell with their Prince." Mr. Crepsley coughed. "But Darren, I believe that is not what you really wanted to ask me."

My cheeks grew red and hot as I shifted uneasily in my chair, forcing myself to just look at him. "I guess…" I mumbled. Of course, he noticed my nervousness too.

"It is nothing to be nervous about, Darren," Mr. Crepsley said and smiled. "You have known that we would have to have this talk for four weeks, you have had much time to prepare yourself." But he didn't say it to mock me. He just continued to smile warmly. "Darren … to be honest with you — and do you not dare to tell this to anyone else — I did not think when I blew you off. I have lived for nearly two centuries, and only once have I fallen for someone. It does not take a rocket scientist to know who that was. I loved — I love — Arra. She might not be alive, but she still means a lot to me. And that is the reason why I was so rash and lied to you." Mr. Crepsley stopped for a second, breathing heavily as if preparing something. "I was afraid to love you because I thought that if I started loving you the way I love Arra, you would replace her. But while I was away, I got to my senses. I learned to know how much I actually love you, as both a lover and assistant."

I had to catch my breath. It was too much for me. Mr. Crepsley loved me? The love of my life Larten Crepsley actually loved me? He looked upon me as both a lover and assistant?

I fainted.

- - -

I woke up an hour or so later. Mr. Crepsley was staring out the window, looking really thoughtful. I noticed that I was no longer sitting in the chair; Larten had probably carried me over to the couch.

I stretched my arms and legs, drawing his attention toward me as I did.

"How do you feel?"

I feel so great I feel like dancing! Larten, take my hand and—

"I'm ok," I said, a faint smile touching my lips as I sat up on the couch. "Sorry for fainting," I added shyly.

He cracked a smile at me. "Do not worry about that."

We just stared at each other for a while, eyes burning into one another. And then out of the blue, Mr. Crepsley spoke. "You know Darren, we have yet to finish your lessons," he said suggestively in a seductive tone. He arched one eyebrow at me, smirking, as he moved over to the couch were I was sitting. His hand rested on my shoulder and his eyes burned into mine. "What do you say we finish them, once and for all?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I said, my arms wrapping themselves around him as I drew his lips toward mine. I almost drowned in his kiss, his embrace. It had been too long since the last time he held me like that.

His mouth wandered to my throat, sucking lightly at the skin there. My hands roamed all over his scarred body, finally resting above the cleft of his ass. I pushed him closer. Grinding his growing arousal against mine. The moans he uttered as we meet is filled with his love for me.

In the course of mere seconds, he ridded us of our clothes. He wasted no time and dragged me up from the couch before pushing me onto the bed. His hands were gentle as they explored already explored skin. He knew where to touch if he wanted me to whimper, to moan or to groan. And when I think about it, I knew his spots too.

He spitted in his palm, and I knew what comes next.

I felt his hand wander behind my balls and toward an area that I had't even touched myself. One finger rested on the entrance, and I resisted the urge to cry as one finger painfully pushed inside. It was a weird feeling; having something inside of me, but it was welcomed nonetheless.

"I am sincerely sorry I have no other sort of preparation cream than my own salvia," Mr. Crepsley apologized. "But if you relax, it will hurt less."

I did as he said. I relaxed, and soon the feeling wasn't painful at all anymore. I started to moan loud as the finger twitched and rubbed inside of me. Suddenly he dragged it out again and I almost whined, but before I can, there was a second digit added. He prepared me for a while, and when he thought I was ready for the real thing, he dragged all his fingers out and replaced them with something way bigger, harder and not to mention better.

As it did with the finger, it hurt as a bitch at first. But once he's settled, the feeling of pain mixed with pleasure is welcomed. The pain fades away soon as he starts to move within my body, and I began to moan again.

He took me gently, thrust by thrust. It didn't take long before he wrapped his thin fingers around my throbbing member and stroked it in time with his thrust. I came first, all over our chests. But as soon as I came, my body clenched around his abdomen and I felt his white, salty sperm fill my body.

He fell on top of me, careful not to break me. We lied like that for several minutes before exchanging some sloppy afterglow kisses. Again, we wasted no time and sat up on the bed and began to dress. We didn't want Vancha and Harkat to catch us like that; stripped naked and in bed with each other. It was our private emotions, after all.

The End