The First and Last Date

On the day of their date, Emily was caught off guard when she saw Ryan waiting in casual clothes instead of his usual sharp suits. In a dark sweater and fitted jeans, he looked different, more relaxed, more approachable, and still undeniably handsome. Something about the softer look made her heart skip. Without the polished image, he felt more real, and Emily felt a mix of nerves and excitement as she walked up to him.

"You look nice," she said quietly, meaning it as she noticed how the sweater fit snugly across his shoulders and the jeans showed off his tall frame.

Ryan smirked, his eyes lighting up as he looked her over in return. She wore a knit dress with boots and a scarf, effortlessly charming. "You should see yourself," he said, half teasing but clearly sincere. The words made her cheeks flush, and she turned away, trying to hide the smile spreading across her face. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel truly noticed, seen in a way no one else had before.

Their date felt surprisingly easy, like the weight of their complicated past had been set aside for a while. As they walked through the busy streets, Ryan reached for her hand, their fingers lacing together in a way that felt both familiar and exciting. They wandered through little shops and cozy cafes, sharing laughs and stories like any other couple out on a simple day together. For once, Emily let herself enjoy the moment. She pushed away the worries and doubts, pretending—just for today—that they were a real couple and this was the start of something new, not the end.

As evening settled in, Ryan brought her to a quiet riverside, far from the city noise. The water shimmered under the city lights, casting a soft glow. They sat on a bench, shoulder to shoulder, the night air cool and calm. The scent of the river mixed with the soft hum of the city in the distance. They didn't say much, just sat in silence, watching the gentle waves and the occasional boat pass by. It was peaceful, intimate—and it made Emily's heart ache, knowing this beautiful moment would soon be just another memory.

"Emily," Ryan said quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft but steady. "You once said you never knew what I was thinking."

She turned to him, heart skipping at the look in his eyes. "Yeah?" she whispered.

"I hope today showed you what I couldn't say," he murmured, holding her gaze with quiet sincerity. Emily felt her breath hitch. Her heart ached at his words. He still couldn't say the feelings out loud—but she saw it in the way he held her hand, looked at her, and planned this whole day just for her. It was touching, but also painful. He was showing her love without saying the words, and that only made it harder.

"Ryan… I'll always be grateful for what we had," Emily said, her voice shaky. "No matter what, you'll always be someone I admire." The words felt small, but they were all she could manage without falling apart. There was so much more she wanted to say—how much he meant to her, how she wished things could be different—but none of it would change the truth. They were heading in different directions, and no amount of feeling could change that.

Ryan looked at her, his face hard to read, emotions flickering in his eyes. Then, without a word, he pulled her into a tight hug, holding her like he never wanted to let go. Emily's breath caught. Her hands clung to his sweater as she pressed her face to his chest. He felt steady, real, and for a brief moment, she let herself imagine this could last.

"Emily, I—" Ryan started, voice thick with emotion, but the words never came. She knew what he wanted to say, what he felt, but somehow, he couldn't say it. And maybe it was better that way. Hearing it might only make leaving harder. The silence between them said enough.

They stayed like that, holding on, not wanting to let go. Everything else faded away. Emily closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of his arms and the sound of his heartbeat. She knew this was the end. Tomorrow, they would go back to being strangers who once shared something real. But for now, she held onto this last moment.

As the night grew late, Ryan drove Emily home. The streets were quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the streetlights. They sat in silence, holding hands, their fingers gently intertwined as if trying to hold onto the last bit of time they had. The car was filled with unspoken thoughts, and the weight of goodbye hung in the air. Emily stared out the window, her heart heavy with both longing and acceptance. Ryan kept his eyes on the road, jaw tense, his grip firm on the wheel. Neither spoke. They didn't want to disturb the fragile calm, but they both knew this was the end.

When they reached her place, Ryan turned to her, his eyes lingering as if trying to remember every part of her face. "Emily… thank you," he said quietly, his words heavy with feeling. She gave him a small smile and nodded. "Goodbye, Ryan," she whispered.

Before she could stop herself, Emily leaned in and kissed Ryan. It was meant to be quick, just a goodbye, but the moment their lips met, everything changed. Ryan froze for a second, surprised, then pulled her into a deeper kiss. It was slow and full of everything they hadn't said—the longing, the love, the quiet ache of knowing it couldn't last. Emily clutched his sweater, her heart racing as she melted into him.

When they finally pulled away, their breathing was uneven, foreheads pressed together as they tried to steady themselves. "Ryan, we—" Emily started, her voice shaking. He shook his head. "Let me in," he whispered, his voice raw, eyes filled with emotion. She hesitated, torn between reason and feeling—but her heart won. With trembling fingers, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Ryan followed.

That night, they let go of everything, doubts, worries, and what came next, and held onto each other like nothing else mattered. Ryan's touch was gentle at first, his hands moving over her body like he was trying to remember every curve and breath. His lips moved slowly across her skin, down her neck, across her shoulders, resting at her collarbone, until she shivered beneath him.

But then his touch grew bolder, needier. His fingers skimmed down her stomach, teasing, before slipping between her thighs. Emily gasped, arching into his hand as he stroked her, his thumb circling just right, making her breath hitch. "Ryan—" His name spilled from her lips in a broken whisper, and he answered with a deep, claiming kiss, swallowing her moans as his fingers worked her into a trembling mess.

She clutched at him, nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coiled tight in her core. But before she could fall over the edge, he pulled back, his eyes dark with hunger. "Not yet," he murmured, voice rough. Then, in one fluid motion, he flipped her beneath him, his body pressing her into the bed.

Emily gasped as he settled between her thighs, his hardness hot against her. He kissed her again, deep and filthy, before gripping her hips and sliding into her in one slow, relentless thrust. The stretch was exquisite, the fullness overwhelming—she cried out, her legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper.

Ryan groaned against her neck, his rhythm steady at first, then faster, harder, as if he couldn't hold back any longer. Every snap of his hips sent sparks through her veins, every ragged breath against her skin driving her higher. She could feel him everywhere—his hands gripping her, his body moving over her, inside her, the way his control frayed with every desperate thrust.

"Look at me," he demanded, and when she did, the raw intensity in his gaze shattered her. She came with a cry, her body clamping around him, pleasure ripping through her in waves. Ryan followed moments later, his release spilling into her with a groan, his forehead pressed to hers as they rode out the aftershocks together.

Afterward, he didn't pull away. Instead, he gathered her close, his arms locking around her like he never wanted to let go. Their hearts pounded in sync, skin still damp, breaths still uneven. No words were needed.

His lips found hers again, the kiss deep and lingering, filled with all the words they had never said aloud. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and regret, of love and loss, of a connection too fragile to last—yet here they were, burning it down anyway.

Ryan's hands slid down her body with possessive intent, fingers gripping her hips as he rolled her beneath him. The weight of him pressed her into the mattress, solid and unyielding, and she gasped as his thigh nudged between hers, the friction already maddening.

"I've missed this," he growled against her mouth, teeth grazing her lower lip. "I'm gonna miss you."

Emily arched into him, her hands roaming the hard planes of his back, nails scraping as he ground against her. Every inch of him was heat and tension, his body a live wire under her touch. She could feel how much he still wanted her—the thick ridge of his arousal pressing insistently against her thigh—and it sent a pulse of liquid need straight to her core.

His fingers stroking through her wetness with a groan. "Fuck, you're already always so ready for me."

She whimpered, hips lifting shamelessly into his touch. "Ryan—please."

He smirked, dark and wicked, before sliding two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Emily cried out, back bowing off the bed as pleasure crackled through her veins. But before she could fall apart, he withdrew, replacing his fingers with the blunt head of his dick, teasing her entrance with slow, torturous circles.

"Look at me," he demanded, voice ragged.

She forced her eyes open, meeting his stormy gaze just as he thrust home in one smooth, devastating stroke. The stretch was exquisite, the fullness unbearable—she gasped, nails biting into his shoulders as he buried himself to the hilt.

"God, you feel…" His words fractured into a groan as he began to move, setting a relentless pace that stole the breath from her lungs. Each snap of his hips hit deeper, harder, until the room filled with the slick sounds of their bodies joining, the creak of the bed, their mingled moans.

Emily clutched at him, legs locking around his waist to take him deeper. Every thrust seared into her, claiming her deeper than skin. His breath burned against her neck—hot, desperate, like a sinner's confession. Pleasure wound tighter in her core, a live wire about to snap—"

Ryan's hand slipped between them, thumb finding her clit, and that was all it took. She shattered with a sob, her climax ripping through her like lightning, her body clamping around him in waves. He followed with a guttural curse, spilling into her with a shudder, his forehead dropping to hers as they rode out the aftershocks together.

They later lay tangled together, their breaths slowly evening out, their bodies still pressed close. Ryan's arms were wrapped tightly around her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, as if he were afraid to let her go. Emily's fingers traced idle patterns on his back, her mind a whirlwind of emotions—joy, sadness, gratitude, and an ache so deep it felt like it would never heal. She knew this was goodbye, that tomorrow they would go back to being colleagues, to living separate lives. But for now, she allowed herself this one last moment, this one last memory to hold onto.