To Blake, With Love

by KT Webb

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Her voice is laced with concern.

  “It’s nothing. Just my brain being an arsehole,” I lean down and press my lips to hers with controlled gentleness.

  The feeling of her bare skin pressed against mine is intoxicating. At this moment, I can quiet my concerns. She’s looking at me like I’m the only thing she wants, and I’m willing to move heaven and Earth to give myself to her. I run my fingers down her spine as she begins to kiss my chest. I bring one hand up to tease her breast as she frees me from my boxers. Blake wraps her fingers around my length and gently strokes me.

  I’m a bundle of sensations. Her hands are all I want to touch my skin. I want to claim every inch of her with my own hands. Blake is all I want forever. It’s not the sex, it’s not the sound she makes when I hit the right spot as we move together, it’s just her. My mind returns to the pub for a moment. Another man tried to take this away, I can’t let that happen. With a low growl, I press against Blake, moving her back against the wall.

  I’ve been a gentle lover in our previous encounters, but right now, all I can think about is showing her just what she signed up for. Our kisses turn rough, she bites down on my lip as I tease her by grinding against her opening without entering. My hands grip her ass, grabbing hard enough that Blake gasps before kissing me with renewed passion.

  “Gannon,” she whispers as I glide a hand down to her center.

  She’s wet and ready. This is mine, this is because of me. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. My thumb teases her clit while I hook a finger inside her. Blake is trying to kiss me again, but I want to hear the noises she makes, so I use my other hand to grip her hair, holding her head in place. I cover her neck in kisses. Blake moves her hips against my finger and thumb with ever-increasing friction. Every little sound she makes leaves my nob aching to be inside her. We’re both breathless with desire.

  “Blake, I need to know that this is what you want. Tell me you want me, tell me how you want it.”

  Her eyes light up as though I’ve handed her the one thing she’s always hoped to receive. She’s panting when she finds the words to express herself.

  “I want you inside me now,” she’s practically begging.

  “How do you want this? Here, or on the bed?” I’d fuck her against the wall if that’s what she wants. She just has to tell me.

  “Bed,” she bites her lower lip and looks up at me as I continue to tease her with my hand between her legs. “I want to be on top.”

  Feck, yes. The idea of her riding me is enough to get me moving as quickly as possible toward the bed. We land in next to each other, and I release her clit from the flicks of my thumb. Blake shoves me onto my back with zero resistance on my part. When she climbs on top of me, the first thing I feel is her warmth pressing against my throbbing dick. My body bucks of its own volition, pressing against the one place I want to be right now.

  Her eyes never leave mine as she lifts her body enough to reach down and carefully guide the head of my nob inside her. Blake releases a whimper of anticipation as she slides down, taking me in as deep as I can go. Damnit, I love this woman. Her hands land on my chest as we move in unison. Blake presses down while I push up. The combined sound of our pleasure fills the room. Nothing else matters, but how I make her feel.

  Looking up at her, I’m once again overcome by her perfection. Blake is lost in ecstasy, leaning into each movement and crying out as I continue to press myself as deep as I can go. Her movement becomes erratic as she lets go, her body clenching me in place.

  “Gannon.” The way she says my name is like nothing I’ve heard before.

  Blake leans down to kiss me, and I meet her halfway. That simple adjustment of our position makes her eyes grow wide as another tremor rocks her body, and she clings to me. With that moment, I’m spent. I let go of the throbbing excitement and groan into her mouth as she shudders with my orgasm.

  Hours later, I’m lying awake while she sleeps in my arms. I almost told her I love her after we had sex. The timing didn’t seem right. I didn’t want her to think I was only saying it because of what we’d done. Blake needs to know I’m sure of how I feel, or she’s not going to believe me easily. The last guy who claimed he loved her ripped her heart out and stomped on it.

  Our limbs are tangled together under the sheets. The blankets have been on the floor since sometime after round two last night. Blake is a goddess. After the night we just had, you’d think I would feel pretty secure about her feelings, but I don’t. She’s not given me any real indication that this is anything more than sex for her. Then I wonder if I’ve given her that impression too. I need to stop waiting and tell her. If I try to say it, I’m afraid I’ll fuck everything up.

  I carefully pull myself out of the knot of our bodies, hoping I don’t wake her. I know exactly what I’m going to do. Grabbing the note pad from the desk, I sit down with a pen and start writing the most open and honest letter I could ever choose to write. It’s to Blake, but it’s so much more than a love letter. This letter is an admission of my feelings. I’m pouring my heart out to her like I’ve never done for anyone before. If I want her to accept my love and feel the same in return, she deserves to know everything.

  Before we head over to Menlo Castle, I stop by a coffee shop that happens to have a post station. The letter ended up being longer than I thought it would be, and I don’t want to hand it to her and force her to read it in front of me. Not to mention that I included a key to my cottage and the pub in the envelope. If she gets it at her cottage when we get home, she’ll know I’ve wanted to tell her since our time in Galway. It may even be waiting for her when we return to Kinnitty.

  To reach the castle that remained in the Blake family for nearly four-hundred years, we have to go for a bit of a drive. It’s technically right across the River Corrib, but to reach it without a rowboat, we have to take a scenic drive. All along the winding roads, Blake holds my hand firmly in her own. I wish I knew what was going on in her mind, but she seems perfectly content to sit in silence and watch the cottages and manor houses blur past us.

  We reach the road that is more like a winding driveway for two large estates, and I take a left. The remnants of the stone wall that would have been around the border of Menlo Castle during its earlier years has been partially preserved. It stands off to the right-hand side of the dead-end dirt road.

  “That’s incredible!” Blake breathes as we drive past.

  Up ahead, a dog runs across the road, probably leaving a nearby field and returning home to its master. Thankfully, I learned long ago that no one really cares if we trespass to see this ruined castle. As long as we don’t do any damage to the property, the present owners couldn’t care less. I put the truck in park, thanking my lucky stars I told Blake to wear boots today. The muddy road and path beyond the gate would have destroyed her trainers. As any gentleman should, I come around to help her out of the pick-up. Of course, Blake doesn’t need my help and is already closely examining a tree with thick vine twisted around its trunk. I love the look in her eyes, they’re alight with a childish curiosity. Blake is vibrating with anticipation as I explain what we have to do.

  “Okay, this is the semi-legal part. Thank God you’ve got Baldwin on retainer,” I grin at the joke.

  Her panicked expression makes me immediately regret the gag. I try to reassure her with a chuckle, but she doesn’t follow my lead. Oops.

  “Blake, I’m only kidding. It’s technically trespassing, but I’m pretty sure they just keep the sign up to let kids think they’re badass when they climb the fence to see the ruins. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

  I lead the way to the gate and put a foot on the second rung and hoist myself up over the top. When I drop to the ground on the other side, I’m not surprised to find that Blake has already followed suit and hops down beside me. With a wink, she takes my hand and waits for my direction.

  “How far do we walk?”

&nbs
p; “The ruin is right up here. Wait ‘til you see the entrance, it’s enchanting,” I think I must be more excited than she is.

  As predicted, the path is muddy from the recurring rain showers. On either side of us, tall grass and the remnants of wildflowers line the well-worn trail. The light mist creeping along the ground makes this place seem even more magical. It’s surreal. I’ve known about Menlo Castle for years, but I never thought I’d be visiting it with someone who has such a deep connection to the place. Blake may not know much about her family’s history in Ireland, but I’m honored to be part of her discovering every bit of it.

  Blake stops in her tracks. I don’t even have to look at her to know what she’s looking at. Her eyes are wide, their color a perfect imitation of the brilliant grass around us. I finally tear my eyes away from her face to look at the entrance to the castle. Trees have grown through the years, becoming entangled with thick vines. On the right-hand side, a corner of the inner wall that once stood as a final defense against invaders has become entwined with those trees. Our path is covered with the crisp remnants of fiery orange leaves released from the canopy of branches overhead. To the right, the shell of what may have been a carriage house has been overtaken by vines. And dead ahead, we can see the first hint of the majestic ruin waiting for us.

  “This is only the beginning,” my voice breaks through the hushed atmosphere.

  “Let’s go,” Blake says before pulling me forward.

  I’m confident I would follow this girl anywhere, so I have no problem with trailing along behind her as she drags me toward the ruins.

  I don’t want to rush this moment. The fact that this castle once housed centuries of my ancestors sends chills down my spine. I’m not sure what to expect when we pass beneath the canopy of trees and emerge in full view of the castle. Of course, it’s a shell of its former glory. The fire probably did a fair amount of damage, but it’s been abandoned for over one-hundred years at this point. Lush vines spill from where the roof once sat. Gannon wraps his arms around me from behind.

  “What do you think?” He whispers in my ear, planting a kiss on my neck.

  “Do we get to go inside?”

  He laughs at my response. I’m sure I sound like a giddy child staring at a mountain of presents beneath the Christmas tree. I can’t help it. The history of it all is so amazing that the idea of stepping foot where my great, great grandmother once lived has me keyed up and ready for adventure. Gannon leads me forward, directly toward the doorway at the base of the structure.

  “I’ll let you go first, m’lady,” he offers a low bow.

  “But sir, what if there are wild animals inside? Or someone waiting to plunder my castle?”

  Gannon looks offended, “No one shall plunder your castle while I’m around!”

  Our laughter echoes off the forgotten place. I step through the door into an enchanted world. Even if I didn’t have a personal connection to this place, I would have found it mesmerizing. In front of us, there are remnants of arches and what must have been the support beams for the second floor. Because so much of the interior is gone, we have a clear view of the opposite side of the castle. A wall that once held five windows is now overwhelmed with the same thick greenery that has attached itself to everything. From what I can guess, there may have been as many as four stories to the castle when it was functional.

  “Look at this!” Gannon calls me over to a large alcove. “This was likely a hearth. Did you know that the more hearths a family had, the wealthier they were thought to be?”

  “It’s so cute when you talk history to me,” I grin before giving him a swift kiss.

  “If you liked that, wait til I tell you about murder holes.”

  “Gannon! That sounds positively erotic.”

  His laughter is one of my favorite sounds. “No, a murder hole was part of castles in medieval times. Really, it was a hole in the floor above a small place where invaders could be trapped when trying to storm a castle. The soldiers defending the castle would pour lime on their enemies from above. It usually killed most of their attackers, or at least knocked some of them out to make it easier to fight the ones who made it through.”

  I blink in surprise. I’m not entirely sure what I expected a murder hole to be, but that explanation surpassed anything I could have imagined. The way Gannon described it reminded me of a little boy talking about the dead toad he found in the backyard. I bite my lip to keep myself from giggling, but I can’t hold it in.

  “I’m sorry, miss. Do you find murder holes to be amusing? You’re a sick, twisted young woman. I am appalled,” Gannon puts a hand on his chest.

  “No, you have no idea how funny it is to watch your eyes light up when you tell me about weird shit.”

  Gannon reaches for me and pulls me in for a hug. We share a slow kiss. All I can think about is how lucky I am to have found this man. He’s everything I never knew I wanted, and I don’t ever want to let him go. We continue to wander through the ruins, stopping to take a closer look at the places where walls once stood or gazing out empty windows. I find myself wondering what life would have been like for Lady Maebh. She wasn’t Lord Valentine’s wife, but she was the mother of his child. When that child died in these walls, she was cast aside like her love meant nothing, and her grief meant even less. My heart aches thinking about how difficult it must have been for her to start over without the man she loved. And how much harder it would have been when she realized she would have to raise their second child on her own. So much tragedy in one place, in one family. In simpler times, it would have been easy to think that there may have been a curse upon the descendants of that bloodline.

  As I watch Gannon climb the worn-down stairs and balance along what used to be the top of a wall, I know curses aren’t real. Considering my own past, I could have allowed myself to fall into that line of thinking long ago. Nothing seemed to work out for me until I moved to Ireland. Gannon is counting the hearths he can identify. Everything seems to have fallen in place for us, we weren’t looking for this, but we found it nonetheless. He catches me staring at him and shoots me that silly grin.

  “What are you looking at, Molloy?” He asks.

  I don’t even know what I was thinking about a few moments ago. As of this second, all I can do is stare at Gannon and wonder what my life would be like without him. There was a time when I never imagined I’d find someone I wanted to spend every moment with. But now I know, without a shred of doubt, that he’s standing right in front of me. Gannon hops down from his position, descends the stairs, and walks up to me. I probably look like I’m in a trance as he gently lifts my chin until I’m staring him full in the face.

  “What’s going on?” His eyes search mine with a hint of fear.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about something,” I try to say casually.

  Gannon isn’t buying the load of bullshit I’m trying to sell. He stares down at me as though he can see directly into my soul. I’m searching for words. I have to tell him something, anything to let him know that I’m not just turning into a zombie.

  “Blake, you look like you might be having a stroke, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine!” My statement comes out in a much more defensive tone than I intended.

  “Uh, okay. Did I do something to upset you?” He steps back to give me some space as I start to pace.

  “No. I don’t really know. Maybe. Ugh, why is this so hard to say?”

  Gannon pales. Shit. Well, I’ve just given him the completely wrong idea of where this is heading. I’m getting really good at that. Way to go Blake. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the worst. When I don’t say anything else, because I’ve apparently become mute, he launches into a diatribe fit for the castle we’re standing in.

  “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you have this look on your face that I know all too well. I thought things between us had taken a turn for the best, but if you don’t agree, you need to tell me now. You are so much
more than I expected you would be. If this isn’t what you want, just say it.”

  I couldn’t interject if I wanted to. Gannon is the one pacing now. I feel a few freezing raindrops fall through the non-existent ceiling. Gannon stops walking back and forth and approaches me, desperation etched into his features.

  “I know I’m older than you. Probably older than what you want. Thirty must seem to you what fifty seems to me. You have your whole life ahead of you to find someone you want to be with. Someone you could spend the rest of your life driving insane the way you drive me to the brink of insanity nearly every day,” Gannon pauses in his rambling to look at me again. His eyes are pleading with me to let him down gently.

  Why the hell won’t my brain cooperate with my mouth? I’m terrified. I’m scared shitless, and I don’t know how to say any of what’s going on in my mind, but this is all going to hell. Gannon sighs heavily when I don’t say a word. He lifts my chin again, gently cups my face, and leans his forehead against mine.