by Linda Kage
I flopped back down on Bison’s mattress in his cottage by the sea and listened to the waves outside, trying to disregard the pulsing in my loins. But they refused to be ignored. Gritting my teeth, I slipped my hand down, needing a climax, when the door to my room slowly creaked open.
My hand jolted away from my pussy in surprise, and I stared wide-eyed as a form crept inside, then silently shut the door behind him. There was no mistaking Farrow’s silhouette, even if my mark hadn’t already recognized him.
I sat up, scowling, aghast that he would dare come in here without my permission. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed.
He paused for a moment, uncertain, then made up his mind and continued to the bed, where I listened to him undress in the dark beside it.
Then, lifting the sheet, he said, “You have need of me.”
Sputtering in indignation, I snapped the blanket up to my chin, covering myself, even though I wore nightclothes. “I can take care of myself.”
Crawling into bed beside me, he countered, “I can take care of you better.”
“But I’m still mad at you,” I growled.
“You can go back to hating me after your orgasm, my lady. I swear it.”
“Except, I don’t—” With a growl, I stopped arguing over his stupid reasoning only to pant hard. I told myself it was anger, but dammit, his arousal was flooding my senses through the mark. It was mucking up my thoughts, making it impossible to outright demand that he leave.
Because if he seemed determined to believe I hated him, then he didn’t deserve my body. But God, I did have need of him. Badly.
“So, what, then…” I taunted; words were my only defense. So I used them as a weapon to stop this madness. “Are you to become my strumpet, like your mother did for your father?”
He didn’t even pause. “If that’s what you wish.” He reached for me and eased the blanket from my fingers. Once the sheet fell away and pooled around my waist, he unlaced the ties to my nightgown, working them free, then sliding cloth up and over my head until I was left naked.
“You don’t have to like me, my lady. And we never have to speak of this night in the light of day if you’d prefer, but you didn’t get to finish, and I’m not going anywhere until you are satisfied.”
“That was a dream,” I gritted out, trying not to react as he expertly moved his hands over me.
I knew I should push him away and tell him to stop. He would desist in an instant. But everything inside me was straining for more. This was my true love.
And I wanted him.
“It might’ve been a dream,” he agreed. “But you’re still wet and throbbing right now, aren’t you? Let me ease your ache.” He barely brushed the backs of his fingers over a bare, straining nipple. “Let me worship my goddess.”
“Oh God,” I moaned, falling back onto the bed and opening my legs. “Complete it, then.”
He crawled on top of me without a word. Remaining upright, he settled his hips between my thighs and guided the head of his penis to me. I shuddered and focused my gaze up toward the ceiling, unable to believe I was letting him do this.
A part of me wanted to claw his eyes out and demand that he go away and leave me alone until he could let me into his heart, and I mean, completely let me in. But the bigger portion needed him inside me. Now.
“Do it,” I ordered.
He thrust. And I started to come around his thickness, my inner muscles contracting hungrily, taking him deep and holding him tight inside me. I slapped a hand over my own mouth and bit down hard on the meat of my palm to keep from screaming my release and waking everyone else in the cottage. But it felt like pure electricity wove through my breasts and between my legs as I climaxed. I screamed anyway.
When I was done, I vaguely noticed that Farrow kept moving, making love to me. I thrashed my head on my pillow, sure I couldn’t take any more.
To be petty and cruel, since he’d talked me into this against my better judgement, and also because I was curious how he’d react, I said, “I’m done. You can stop now.”
He merely looked down into my eyes and quirked his lips into a devilish smile. “Oh, princess,” he said, his voice full of honey and gravel. “You’re not even close to being done yet.”
Then he flipped us around, until he was the one lying on his back and I sat astride him.
Reaching out to balance myself, I flattened my hands onto his six-pack abs. They flexed under my fingers, and I found that he was right; I wasn’t quite done with him after all.
He always felt so good under my touch, though. With skin that was hard and soft in all the right places, he knew how to draw me in, letting me explore to my heart’s content. The cock inside me twitched as the muscles against my fingers tensed, enjoying my attention.
I sucked in a pleasured moan and lifted my hips before coming back down on him, slowly beginning to ride.
I told myself to stop. He didn’t deserve to come tonight. But, oh damn, I’d missed his thickness and warmth in me. Sliding up and down on it, I canted my hips, taking him at different angles until I found my favorite spot. Then I bore down, grinding hard, like a cat rubbing against a tree to get an itch scratched.
“Yes,” I hissed, my nerves coiling again, preparing and building. “God. God,” I started to pant, growing desperate, coming closer to the edge of euphoria. “Farrow…”
“Jesus Christ,” he gasped, bucking up under me and grabbing my ass to help me along.
The tension in me snapped and I started to cry out, the orgasm seizing me unaware. Farrow slapped a hand over my mouth to quiet me, and I sank my teeth into his fingers as I creamed his shaft.
Sweat coated his face, and his eyes looked glazed with madness by the time I settled, but he wasn’t done yet.
Still full and hard inside me, he urged, “One more time, my lady.”
My eyes flared, unable to believe such a thing was possible. But he sat up, anyway, and kissed me, softly at first, then easing his tongue in until our mouths mated. When he pulsed inside me, my thighs clenched around him.
“From behind,” he instructed as he clutched my hips and eased me up and off.
I whimpered when he broke us apart, wanting him back and buried deep.
“Shh,” he said and positioned me on my stomach, knees bent and bottom in the air. “I just needed to give your lovely backside a little attention, too.”
His hand smoothed across my spine, then clutched my ass gently, and his lips followed, kissing all the way down until he was nipping the rounded globes. He massaged the backs of my legs, making sure not to leave an inch untouched. After placing his mouth against the arches of both my feet, he kissed his way back up, licking me a moment longer behind the knees when he discovered I was ticklish there. Then he wound a hand around my waist, lifted my hips, and entered me from behind.
I pressed my head forward against the mattress and pushed back against him, receiving each penetration with a helpless moan. His thrusts seemed so impossibly large, because he kept them long and slow so I’d feel every inch.
“I could fuck you forever,” he said from behind me, his breath whispering across the back of my ear when he bent over to drape himself on top of me, flesh to flesh. “I’ll want you like this always.”
My pussy contracted, but he refused to pick up the pace, his tempo unhurried but heavy, driving me slowly mad.
“Farrow,” I begged. “Farrow.”
“I’m here,” he promised me. “No matter how long you need me. I’m here.”
Reaching around, he cupped my clit with a palm while the fingers on his other hand pinched my nipple. I choked out a sound of denial and came with powerful, tightening draws that seemed to squeeze straight from my cervix.
Farrow groaned and bit the back of my shoulder, spilling deep inside me.
Spent, he pulled out and flopped onto his back beside me, gaping up at the ceiling as he tried to regain his air.
I rolled toward him and touched his face. The scabs f
rom his fight wounds were gone.
“Your throat?” he asked gently, three fingers touching my neck. “The bruises?”
I squeezed his hand lovingly, then kissed his palm. “Gone.”
“Good.” He turned onto his side, so we were facing each other, and he idly played with my hair as he watched my face. “Just tell me when to leave,” he finally said. “And I’ll go.”
I didn’t answer because I didn’t want him to go, yet I couldn’t give him permission to stay, either.
He didn’t seem to mind, though. It was as if he cherished every moment I deigned to give him, and he was satisfied with that.
I blinked, realizing I could feel all his emotions loud and clear. He blocked nothing from me. “You feel peace,” I said in surprise.
He smiled lightly. “You’re surprised?”
I nodded. “Well, yes. It’s not just satisfaction from a nice, long orgasm,” I tried to explain. “It’s deeper, like soul-deep contentment.”
He drew his finger down my arms, watching the progress he made over my skin. “Maybe that’s because I feel at peace, my lady. Right down to my soul.”
I frowned. “But how is that possible? After everything that’s happened—your sister...”
The mention of Sable caused a bubble of grief to bloom in his peace, but then the peace seemed to smother and consume it until he accepted the hurt, grew from it, strengthened, and was calm again.
Farrow looked steadily into my eyes. I expected him to say it’s because I’m with you or some other tricky, slick phrase in an attempt to win me back. But he surprised me by saying, “It’s because I’ve just now realized something about myself.”
Curiosity consumed me. I burned to know what he’d realized.
With a tender smile, he tangled our fingers together, pressed his palm to mine, and replied to my silent query so I wouldn’t have to ask. “I realized all my fears have been actualized. When Sable...” With a sigh, he closed his eyes briefly. “I feared what would happen to me if I lost her. I feared the same thing with my mother. I feared that I’d never gain my father’s respect and acceptance. I feared I’d lose you if you discovered the truth. And all of them—every single fear—happened anyway, no matter how much I dreaded them. But look at me now. I’m still here regardless. Air is still moving through my lungs. Fear conquered me, and I didn’t die. I think it needed to defeat me completely before I could truly understand and realize it doesn’t have to rule my life. It’s possible to fail and still get back up again. I think I even needed you to leave me for a spell so it would break me. Except it wasn’t my soul that shattered, it was only the fear. And now...” His lips quirked with a tranquil silence. “I believe I can finally be the man I’m supposed to be.”
“And who are you supposed to be?” I inquired, feeling a sense of wonder that he truly did seem to have reached a place of transcendence. My hope bloomed, as well. Was he finally learning what I needed him to learn?
He chuckled lightly. “You know, I’m not sure yet. But that’s okay too. All I know is that my life’s purpose has something to do with you. After that...” He shrugged. “Who knows. I guess we’ll see. But I won’t fear facing it, that’s the important part.”
“That’s amazing,” I said, almost jealous of him and his new state of mind.
He felt so secure and confident. I wished I had that. It made me wonder if I’d made the right decision to ban my love from him until he gave me his as well. Was I being petty and small, refusing to let him into my heart again because he’d dented my silly pride?
I honestly wasn’t sure what to do, and I hated that.
“Don’t,” he said softly, kissing my temple. “You’re second-guessing yourself, princess. You shouldn’t do that.”
I squinted at him. “And how do you know what I’m feeling?”
He paused, then blinked as if surprised. “Because I just do. Huh. That’s odd, but I can feel you as plain as day, like your emotions are peeling off you and sticking to me.” He pointed to his own temple. “Right here. Oh!” He cocked his head curiously as he watched me. “Now, you’re surprised. Holy shit. I felt that. It’s not just a guess, either, I can actually feel you as if your mood is talking straight into my ear. How spectacular. Is this what it’s been like for you from the beginning?”
“But…” I faltered, confused. “You’re not supposed to be able to read my feelings. You don’t have the mark. It’s not possible.”
“No?” He countered, lifting a challenging eyebrow. “Well, I didn’t think it was possible to bring you back from the dead, either, until I did.”
“My God.” I cupped his face in my hands and looked him straight in the eye. “This is really happening, isn’t it? You feel me. Quick, what are my emotions now?”
“Curiosity and joy,” he answered immediately, then quirked up his lips. “Why do I have a feeling I’m about to become your new, favorite parlor trick?”
I giggled and kissed his lips, loving this, until I remembered—oh yeah. I shouldn’t be experiencing joy with him. I was holding out until he decided to be a proper, equal soul mate who trusted me—one I could trust in return.
Torn, I wanted to forgive and forget our past, while a portion of me told me I would be an utter idiot to do so. The first time, all his betrayals had taken me by surprise. This time, I should know better. It’d be my own fault if he burned me again.
“And we’re back to doubt,” he said sadly, his gaze flickering with regret. “That is your greatest fear, isn’t it, my lady? You fear making the wrong choices.”
I tried to laugh it off. “Doesn’t everyone?” But inside, my nerves tightened with unease. I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable with Farrow discovering this weakness about me.
“Aye, but it runs deeper with you,” he said. “You’ve always been accused of making poor choices because you make up your mind and act so quickly. Even I’m guilty of saying such to you, and it’s made you believe that you must always be wrong. But honestly, I admire how well you know yourself and what you want. You reach for your goals with your whole heart. You believe in things—and people—so strongly. And as long as you’re fully informed of all the consequences, I don’t see why you should have to dawdle and debate with yourself. Being quick to react and decide the next move is a quality of power. Don’t ever fear that.”
Tears filled my eyes and I shook my head. “But I’ve been wrong so often.”
He smiled gently. “Everyone’s been wrong once or twice. Or maybe even a thousand times. We can’t all make the correct choices all the time. It’s just not possible. We all mess up. Something I’m definitely proof of. Worse yet, there isn’t always a definitively correct choice to make. Sometimes, you just have to wade through the ups and downs of your decision and deal with the outcome. Sometimes, you won’t even get to know if you did the wrong thing or not. So you can’t let your fear of your choices consume you. Be at peace with your decision if it feels right in your bones.”
He kissed my forehead softly only to pull away, take my hands, and kiss my knuckles next before looking into my eyes, serious intent in his expression.
“Everything you said to me before, when you left me in chains at that tree, it’s true, you know. I didn’t trust you with myself.”
“Farrow,” I started, my lips parting with awe. Was he finally going to realize what we both needed to do in order to be together? “What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying I wasn’t able to open up and give you all of me before. Because I didn’t know how. You’ve seen my dreams; you know how I was raised, and I saw how you were raised. You had every privilege and convenience a child could get, lavished with love and attention and always shown trust from those closest to you. All you knew was fairness and justice. I did not. No one ever taught me how to love. How to give trust or take it. I needed to learn that from you before I was able.”
He pressed his mouth to mine, then pulled away with a grin full of warmth and devotion. “I’m so sorry it took this lo
ng to get the hang of it, but now…” He practically glowed with joy. I swear, a light seemed to burst through his skin from within. He just looked so happy, it showed all over him. “I know I can give myself to you however you need it. And if you’re ever willing to give me all of you again, you shall finally have all of me in return.”
“In that case,” I clutched his face in my hands. “I’m willing now.”
He blinked in shock. “Nicolette, I—”
“I love you,” I insisted. “These were the words I’ve been waiting for you to say to me since I chained you to the tree.”
“But—”
“Nothing else matters,” I told him. “You have hurt me and lied to me, and I still want you, from here.” Fisting my hand, I pressed it against my stomach. “And here.” My palm moved up to cover my heart. “And here.” Then I pointed to my mark. “The decision was made a long time ago, Farrow, and I haven’t changed my mind. You are my mate. And I choose you completely of my own free will. The rest we’ll work on as we go. Together.”
His mouth moved a few times, words not coming. Then he said, “Are you—are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I am absolutely at peace with this choice.”
“God, Nic.” A sob filled his throat. “I love you too.”
Tears leaked from my eyes, and I laughed as he gently wiped them away. “Oh, Farrow. We’re going to make it through all this craziness so we can find our happily ever after. I just know we are.”
With a nod, he said, “For once, I have every faith you’re right, princess.”
33
Farrow
I woke to the caw of birds outside the window and nearby waves walloping the shoreline.
With a contented groan, I stretched my arms over my head and glanced at Nicolette sleeping beside me. A smile stretched across my lips. I liked sleeping in a bed with her. My fingers coasted over her hair, careful not to disturb her. She looked so young and innocent in rest.
Wanting to keep it that way, I eased off the mattress and found my clothes piled on the floor where I’d dropped them last night.