Claddagh and Chaos
Copyright © 2015 Cayce Poponea
Published by Cayce’s Creations All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means; including information storage and retrieval systems-except in the case of brief excerpts or quotations embodied in review or critical writings without the expressed permission of the author.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations
Formatting by Champagne Formats
Other work by Cayce Poponea
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Where to find Cayce Poponea
Other work by Cayce Poponea
Shamrocks and Secrets
Coming summer of 2015 ...
Crain’s Landing
When the end of Shamrocks and Secrets was in sight, one of my friends asked me why I chose to end it so bluntly. She told me, it was as if you just added water and poof, three kids and a dog. She wanted to know how they got there. Did they spend everyday living life to the fullest? Or did Patrick and Christi face the same harsh realities of life and come out as a stronger, healthier couple? Thus the birth of Claddagh and Chaos. So ... to my dearest friend, Gemma Warburton. This is for you. I hope you enjoy!!!
THE SOFT PATTERING OF RAINDROPS combined with the gentle, cool breeze had stirred me from my brief but much needed sleep. The feel of Christi’s warm, soft body nestled against mine was the only reminder assuring me this was all real. Even with the cool temperature of the room, the sheet she was under barely covered her lower half. I ran my index finger along the outline of her slender spine, caressing the beautiful skin that rested there.
I welcomed the rain; it ensured that my plan for my new wife wouldn’t be interrupted by a desire to enjoy the green landscape or any of the other activities the village had to offer. No, today I would keep my Christi right where she was now.
I watched as the breeze ruffled the sheer curtains that adorned the door leading out to the yard. I could hear the sound of the surf as it broke along the rocky shore, the waves crashing over and over, like a lullaby. How I wished we could stay here in our little cocoon for the rest of our lives, no one to interrupt the peace and quiet.
The desire to have her again was overwhelming. Last night was the first time we had been together since prior to the kidnapping. Once I had her in the house, I had thrown her onto the bed and taken what was mine, in turn giving her what was hers.
My hand made contact with the tip of her shoulder, caressing her shoulder blade, down her soft back, finally to the junction of her hip and the two tiny dimples that stood proud like a beacon for my pleasure. It was as I started to make my way back up her spine that the glint from the Claddagh ring on my pinky finger caught my attention. I sighed, remembering how only a day ago, I had made the promise, placing it on my finger.
When I was a boy, my father always made time for me and my sister. He would take me to ballgames or just hang out in the backyard and throw the ball around. With my sister, he would take her out to dinner and show her how men were supposed to treat her.
I could remember one time my father took me out for ice cream. Amex was at a friend’s house and so it was only da and me. I remembered seeing his Claddagh ring on his pinky finger, but I never paid much attention to it. So, sitting outside in the heat of June in Chicago watching our favorite team win , I asked my father where he had gotten that ring.
“Patrick, one day in the future, you’ll stand in front of all the family and God and make a promise to a beautiful, young girl. You’ll promise to protect her, provide for her, and most of all, love only her. But before you do that, you’ll stand in front of all the men in our family and you’ll swear an oath to always put your family first.”
I had nearly forgotten about the ring and story he shared when my father and uncles came into the room as I was dressing for the wedding yesterday. At first, I was worried my nightmare had come true and they were here to tell me she had changed her mind. The look on my father’s face was one of severity and seriousness. What happened next was something I would remember for the rest of my life.
“Patrick ...” His tone confirmed what he was about to say would change my life. “As you know, you’re about to take a vow of marriage.”
I didn’t respond. My job was to listen and listen well. Even if I was about to get married to the most perfect creature to walk the planet, I knew he would have me shot me for less than simple disrespect.
“You know that for generations, the men of this family have made a vow of our own. One we keep among the men of this family.”
Behind him stood not only my uncles, but some of my closest men, as well as men from my extended family. Matthew stood beside my father, his look as pensive. Sherman and Caleb stood tall beside him, hands in a stolid stance, faces absent of the traditional smiles.
“You were given the position as the head of this family because of your birth. You’re given the gift of being head of your family by sheer luck. Being a husband and father is an honor. One we don’t take lightly.”
I felt my heart begin to pound in my chest. I had sworn to Christi I wouldn’t have my gun on me at our wedding. I was regretting that promise.
“The shamrock you gave to Christi was a promise, but the Claddagh holds so much more.”
My memories came flooding back to me of the ring my father wore on his right pinky finger.
“I told you when you were younger this day would come. I didn’t tell you what would be expected by the men of your family and what would happen if you choose to break the vow you give to us today.”
I watched as all of the men stood behind my father, a united front; they were making their presence in the room as strong as possible. There would be no misunderstandings today.
“By accepting this ring, you accept the consequences of breaking the solemn vow you make to us; as well, to always honor her and your family.”
Knowing how our family worked, I didn’t have to ask what would happen if I broke this vow. Besides the obvious of losing Christi and any children we had, someone would have to hand out the ultimate punishment.
“By whose hand?” It was my only question.
“Mine,” my father spoke, clear and emotionless , as he extended his open hand with the silver Claddagh resting in his palm.
With absolute confidence, I took the ring from his hand and placed it on my pinky. The vow was now made and my fate sealed. If I ever dishonored my bride, my father would be forced to take my life. I was confident I would die a happily married old man.
“Good morning, Husband.” Christi’s raspy voice brought me back to the present. She would never know of the vow I had taken. Last night after our second round, she held my hand and it was then she noticed my ring. I told her the truth; that it was a gift from my father.
“Actually, I think it’s afternoon.”
Covering her body with mine, once again, my need for her was evident against her silky thigh. I learned early on that Christi loved it when I nibbled on the junct
ion of her neck and shoulder. The moan that escaped her vocal cords went directly to my groin, increasing my desire for her.
Christi knew me well, also; she would grab a handful of hair at the back of my neck and tug. That, combined with her sweet moans, would send me to places I had never been. I wanted this feeling to last forever, to make every time I made love to my wife, feel like the first time.
Ignoring her attempt to pull me closer to devour her tempting neck, I pulled myself away. I watched as her confused and dare I say, pissed off face, questioned my action. I pulled the sheet away, eliciting giggles from her. I pressed her hips firmly into the mattress and moved my knees until they were nearly touching her ass cheeks; her knees fell to the side of their own accord. Christi was a beautiful creature, soft and supple, including the glistening lips of her engorged pussy. She called to me, even when she said nothing, her body shouted my name.
“You know, Christi ...” I leaned my body down, my index finger sliding through the evidence of her arousal. “ ... this is my favorite place on Earth . Here in this bed, with you wide open for me, knowing that in less than ten seconds, I’m going to make you feel so good that you’ll forget your name.”
My tongue dove into her warm, pink folds. My eyes locked onto the flesh that was created for my sole enjoyment. Christi tried to lift her hips off the mattress as my tongue found its target; her erect clit that was hiding behind the skin protecting it. With the tip of my tongue, I flicked the hardened nub, freeing it from its protective covering. My lips formed a seal as my mouth began to suck. The more she moaned, the harder I sucked. I added first my index finger and then my middle finger, fucking her slowly and methodically with my wet digits. Her fingers were buried deep in my hair, pulling the short strands, causing a pain that I welcomed, encouraging me to go further, love her harder.
“You like that, baby? You like my tongue in your sweet pussy, don’t you?” I knew the answer and I knew she was too wrapped in the pleasure I was giving her to do anything but enjoy. I wanted this, craved for her to feel this good and by the things I could do for her. Christi thrusts became more forceful; she was close and wanted more. Her legs began to shake, I moved my mouth away slightly, testing the waters to see her reaction.
“That’s it, rub that tight little pussy on my face.”
Her head shot up, her hooded eyes glaring at me. She needed control, and I had no issue giving it to her. I moved to lie beside her and pulled her over top of me, bringing her body to straddle my face.
“Put your hands on the head board.”
As she reached out for the stained wood, I grabbed her hips, drawing her down onto my tongue. Her cry of pleasure gave me the drive to let her get her fill. She started moving, rising up and down along my erect tongue, tilting her hips on her up-stroke , her clit hitting my nose. Releasing one side of her hip, I moved my thumb to cover her now very swollen clit, circling the wet flesh as her tempo increased. I watched her closed eyes and open mouth, taking great joy in the fact I was giving her such pleasure. Her movements became sloppy and the soft words she was uttering unintelligible.
I knew what was coming, but I wanted to be buried deep inside of her when it happened. I pushed her onto her back; her scream of surprise replaced with a cry of ecstasy as I pushed my hard cock into her tender pussy. I buried myself balls deep in her, loving her, craving her. I wanted to do this everyday, until I took my last breath.
“Patrick, baby ... yes ... oh.”
Her legs wrapped around me, closing the gap that our bodies created. Grinding her pelvis against mine, giving into her need, taking from me what she needed and giving me so much more. I had to see her, watch as I entered her, rhythmically creating a euphoria that was completely ours. I adjusted my pelvis, raising my torso off her, admiring how her breasts bounced in time with my thrusts. Her nipples were hard and begging to be sampled. Christi, knowing her body as she did, released her grip on my shoulders and placed one on her left tit, while the other traveled south, finding her warm, wet clit. She pulled and pinched her perfect nipples, brushing my cock with her fingers as she pleasured herself. With the combination of her tight pussy walls massaging my cock and the sight of her losing herself in not only the pleasure I was giving her, but the result of her talented fingers against her tender flesh, I found my slice of heaven, thrusting and praying that I could keep this going for days. I watched as my cock entered her over and again, listening to the words that poured from her lips. In the end, as I felt my balls tighten and the coil grow tighter, it was the light reflecting off the diamond ring that sent me over the edge. A ring I had placed on her finger, a sign to the world this amazing woman was mine.
The rain lasted for two days; two wonderful days that we spent naked and wrapped around each other. I felt it was in those two days my son was conceived.
For the next three weeks, we took in all the sights Ireland had to offer. I even took her to the very hillside where I got her shamrock. We walked around the tiny village, spoke with some of the family we still had there, and shopped with several of the merchants who peddled their wares. I learned more about Christi in that time than all the months prior. She had an unhealthy obsession with peanut butter; she had it every morning for breakfast—on her toast and pancakes.
I also found out she had the cutest giggle when she was tickled behind her knee and that she screamed like a little girl when she saw a bug crawl across the floor. I discovered it was very erotic to paint my wife’s toenails with nail polish. She discovered that biting gently on my bottom lip made me growl and then attack her. How taking her cup of coffee in the morning was a very bad idea.
I watched as she would twist a piece of her hair around her finger as she read her book. How she hummed an unfamiliar tune when she brushed her teeth. I watched as she laughed wholeheartedly while trying to do cartwheels on the cliff’s edge. By the time we had to leave, she had perfected them. Christi was even able to get me to drink ‘girlie’ drinks only because she made them taste so good.
We learned that even though Hollywood made having sex on a hill side look erotic, it was actually a pain in the ass, literally. You found dirt and grass in places it didn’t belong for days afterward.
As we boarded that sea plane heading home, I sighed. I held my gorgeous wife’s hand and kissed her forehead, settling into my seat. Christi and I had discussed that once we were back from our honeymoon, our lives would likely become a little crazy. I would have to get caught up with my work and I knew my mother would have something planned for us.
What I didn’t know at the time was that my life was about to change in ways I had never dreamed.
“PATRICK, PLEASE PUT ME DOWN. This is ridiculous.” Christi had been demanding that I put her down since we got out of the car.
“Oh, no, I’m nothing if not traditional.”
“Yes, but you did this on our honeymoon.”
“But we didn’t live at that house.”
She locked eyes with mine and allowed me to carry her across the threshold of our house. As wonderful as my time alone with her was, I was glad to be home . It was time to start our lives; building a family and raising our children.
It was after midnight when we finally crawled into bed; exhaustion more prevalent than making love to my sleepy wife in our new bed. Christi had taken just enough time to brush her teeth and have a quick shower. She was out before her head hit the pillow.
My mind, however, was in overdrive. I had tons of emails from Caleb and my father. Seems the Feds had started poking their noses in our new ventures in the South. Caleb had been able to reopen some communication with Velinco’s old company. It appeared they were more than ready to do business with us. If things went according to plan, both families stood to make a lot of money.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee and something sweet. I turned over to find Christi’s side of the bed cold and empty. Once I was showered and dressed, I made my way down the stairs to find my wife in the kitchen. Her hair was pulled into
a messy bun atop her head. She was sitting on one of the barstools with her feet dangling down. The book she had started on the flight home was open in her hands. I wanted to take a picture of this moment; have the sight of my wife preserved for all time.
“Are you just going to stare at me all day or are you going to join me for coffee?”
I couldn’t help but smile at her. We were very in tune to each other. “I think I’ll just watch you.”
She set her book down and turned to me. Her smile was enough to make me forget about my day and want to take her back upstairs; show her what watching her did to me.
“Get over here and kiss me.” She tried to sound demanding, but she was much too gentle.
“Ask me nicely, Mrs. Malloy.”
The look she shot me was one I had seen my ma give my da on many occasions. Closing the distance between us, I tipped my bride back and kissed her breathless. She rewarded me with a nip from her teeth on my bottom lip. Christi was so sexy and sassy, I questioned if I would ever see everything she had to offer or tire of what she consistently gave me. I held the pose as my tongue barged its way into her coffee-flavored mouth, her moan confirming her pleasure and satisfaction. With another kiss to the edge of her neck, I gathered my jacket, adjusted my erection, and winked in her direction as I headed out the door to meet my men.
“So, the crates were open, but nothing was missing?”
Da was sitting to my right and Caleb to my left with Shamus flanking Caleb. It seemed we’d had some interesting break-ins over the past few weeks. The first took place at the docks here in Chicago, the second in Miami.
“Not one fucking thing missing,” Sherman responded, the disbelief chambering his attitude.
“Why would ... ?” Shamus joined Sherman in the confusion line. His eyes told me he was at a complete loss.
“Feds,” my father interrupted Shamus. “They just want us to know they’re watching.” His voice was laced with amusement. Da got a rather big kick out of ‘playing’ with the guys at the bureau. There were stories upon stories of the things he had done to agents who were on stakeouts. Juvenile things, humorous and, on occasion, costly pranks.
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