you’d visualise all kinds of kingdoms and I’d play along. You’d hang down from your tower and I’d
catch you.
When I returned, you’d climbed to the top and was hanging from the cross bar, three feet or so off
the ground, calling my name. I ran as fast as I could to catch you but I was too late. Your hands
slipped and you fell onto your knees.” He’s stroking those very knees with his fingertips, looking for
signs of leftover scars. There are none. “When I picked you up, they were cut and grazed, tiny pieces
of gravel stuck to them like dirty sprinkles.
You cried. I picked you up and ran inside. One of the carers patched you up and gave you a sweet to
quieten you. I held your hand the whole time. When we came outside I scolded you, shook you by the
shoulders. You see, I was scared anything would happen to you; you were precious to me. I took your
wellbeing very seriously, even then.”
I offer a flat smile, feeling my eyes stinging a little at his assertion.
“I raised my voice and told you never to take chances, to wait for me.” He’s shaking his head,
distressed at the thought of behaving in such a brutish fashion. “The pain I caused you was far worse
than the pain from your knees. You cried so hard. You looked up at me with your baby blues and they
were swimming with tears like two enormous marbles. I felt so bad. There you were, tearful, with two
oversized plasters on your knees. I took you in my arms and told you I was sorry. You had your arms
wrapped around my neck like a scarf for most of the day, and I carried you around like a satchel
weighted down with guilt. So … you see. I know these knees very well.”
I’m moved almost beyond words. “Yes, you do, Ayden. Fancy you remembering that?”
“I remember everything Beth. I relived every day over and over, until it became a bedtime story in
my head. I think that’s why I turned to Elise, as a replacement for you. When your dad finished his
work and left, I was heartbroken. Elise needed someone to care for her and I needed someone to care
for. But … you were, and are, so special to me.”
I lean forward and place my hands over his so we are both gripping my knees. “Some things never
change. I still like to be up high, imagining kingdoms and that I can fly.”
“I know.” He’s smirking, making me wonder why. “Our visit to the London Eye was the first
indication you hadn’t changed. It was our first Titanic moment.”
“One of many.”
He’s nodding. “Yes.”
“Hotel de Russie, The Cosmopolitan, The Grand Canyon, The Top of the World Restaurant. it
doesn’t get much higher than that.” I shake my head disbelievingly. “So, all this time you’ve been
doing that because of my love of the monkey bars?”
“Something like that.”
“You did a great job Ayden. I’ve loved every minute of it and managed to survive every new
experience without suffering any injuries.” I cup his face in my warm palm.
“It seems that way but there were times when I wasn’t there to ‘catch’ you and I should have been.
Like when your mum died and your dad passed away; and when that fucking psycho got his hands on
you.”
“Don’t! Don’t carry that heavy satchel around with you, not again. You were always with me in
here.” I place my hand on my heart. “You were there in my bedtime stories too; in my studies and
present in the pictures in my home. In every book I read, I was picturing you. I kept the memory of
you alive in my subconscious. I see that now. Like the ripples on a pool, merely the faintest memory
of you was enough to give me the strength I needed to carry on, even when I thought I couldn’t. The
promise of you was enough.”
His head falls into his hands. “Well, I thank God for that.” After a shaky pause he lifts his head,
unveiling a lifetime of disappointment. “I want you to know that everything I’ve done in my life has
led me to this very moment. Through every fucking battle and hard fought deal, and every shattered
dream, I knew I would survive because I had you out there somewhere.
I made you a promise to come get you, to always be there for you and hated myself for not keeping
that promise.” He wraps my hands in his in a desperate plea. “Can you forgive me?”
I’m shaking my head. “Ayden, I can’t absolve you of a non-existent sin.”
“But … you can Beth. I look at you and see goodness and honesty. A handful of words from your
lips are worth a thousand of mine.”
I try to free my hands to comfort him.
“No. Let me finish. I’ve had years to rehearse this.” He bows his head solemnly. “I can’t forgive
myself until I am forgiven by you. Baby, I just can’t.”
Sensing his vulnerability, I shake free and pull him to me. His body has lost some of the heat it had
before and I’m patting and rubbing his back with my hands, as you would a weeping child. He is
stripped bare, in every way. I have to acknowledge his neediness. As irrational as it seems, it’s real to
him. I can’t allow him to suffer like this.
I take his face in my hands. “Ayden, you came for me when I needed you most. When my life was
filled with dark shadows and music was my only companion. I was lost, descending into a black hole.
You caught me, lifted me up and brought colour into my life with your love.” I take a moment to
steady myself. “Sometimes, true love only arrives when you are ready to receive it. We were both
ready. So, Ayden, you are forgiven.” I exonerate him and seal this act of absolution with a soft kiss.
Unexpectedly he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me tightly. His head rests on my lap
whilst I stroke his hair.
“Thank you.” A kind of blessed reverence falls over us. Somewhere in the cosmos there is heavenly
peace, brought about by the sanctification of our love. Angels will cry and so will I if I don’t end this
moment of sheer devotion.
“But …”
He lifts his head. “Here comes the but …” A smile forms.
“But, what about these knees? I have a gorgeous man naked across them. What is a girl to do?”
He reclaims his hands and repositions them on the knees in question. “I love these knees and every
other bodily part attached to them. They are mine, to have and to hold. ‘Till death do us part.” His
wedding vow catches in his throat.
I shake my head to dissolve the bubbling emotion. “Yes, they are.”
“I have only one question …” He’s tapping his chin with a single finger.
“And that is?”
“Will they taste as good as they look?”
I shrug my shoulders innocently. “There’s only one way to find out.”
My handsome husband peels back my dress until it is barely covering my thighs. While his hands
take hold of my calves, he lowers his mouth to my knees and ascends towards my most private of
parts, kissing and licking flesh that has become sticky with perspiration, pushing my legs apart as he
nears my moist entrance. Like a schoolgirl on a white knuckled ride, I hold on to the arms of the chair,
watching and squirming.
In one languid movement, he lifts my right leg over the arm of the chair, followed unhurriedly by
my left. I am completely exposed. Everything I am is wide open before him.
From beneath the scattering of pink and lavender flowers he raises his eyes to mine, seeking
<
br /> approval. I give it silently by means of a smile that he returns. I throw back my head and succumb to a
deep seated need in me to surrender myself completely to this magnificent man of mine.
Fuck!
His head dips as he laps at my clitoris, secreting saliva onto the already dripping nub of nerve
endings. In my stomach, muscles are clenching and I’m moaning, fighting against his hands holding
me in place. Ayden knows my body so well. It speaks to him and he translates every movement and
unspoken word with the adroitness of a linguist; every whimper, every aching sigh is acted upon. Like
an attention seeking child I take everything, forgetting to give in return. I’m caught up on a rolling
tide of sensual craving,
He continues to torment me with his devilish tongue, flicking and licking while his hand shifts
position and finds me. The knuckles of his right hand brush against my opening and I arch into it,
needing to be penetrated, lurching towards a torrent of erotic fervour.
When he raises his head I hear his voice, deep and guttural. “I love the taste of you.” Watching my
reaction, he gently pushes a single finger into me and we moan simultaneously; the combination of
words and movement sending a burning sensation the length and breadth of my body. The noise of his
arousal multiplies my own massively, to the point I will beg to be taken.
“Ayden.”
“Not yet baby. Not yet.”
I’m wrestling with his hands and squirming, desperately trying to absorb sensations. With
clenching thighs I rock forward, taking in the sight of a mop of dark, unruly hair, jerking and rolling
into me. And then …
He emerges from beneath the scattering of summer flowers, lips glistening, and ensnares me with a
stare so penetrating, my body quivers unexpectedly at the ferocity of it. “You have always belonged to
me Beth,” he states plainly.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Always.”
“Let go baby …” With fingers that are hot and sticky to the touch, he peels back my fingers from
the arms of the chair.
I allow my arms to fall unsupported either side of the chair and tip back my head, preparing to
ascend. I hear the hum of a vibrator a second before it settles on my clitoris and slides inside me, the
tip resting against a throbbing wall of nerve endings. My unnatural fear of flying has me whimpering
until it’s replaced by an involuntary rasping sound of pleasure discharging from my throat. I am an
airborne spirit.
Like his fingers, Ayden’s eyes pierce my soul, drawing out hidden truths, secret desires. “Tell me
what you want Beth. Be bold baby.”
“I … I want you to mark me … as yours.” I bite my lip, shocked at my confession, trembling and
panting my way through this erotic episode. .
With no need for words, he gives me his blessing and kisses my thighs, still rotating my toy of
choice for my delight and what a delight. I’m becoming limp, my body is soaring. My spirit is lifting,
scaling invisible mountains held fast and flying free at the same time. He pushes into me with two
fingers and that quest for the Holy Grail begins. I am buried treasure. I am that sacred flame,
brimming over with molten juices.
“Give yourself to me Beth,” he commands in a jumbled smattering of explosive vowels. “It’s time
to fly.”
And I do. I surrender myself totally to him, on this our belated wedding night; discarding every
wasted tear, banishing every haunting scream and replacing all that with a fierce, earth-shattering
orgasm that has me tearing at my clothes and gyrating into his mouth.
I can’t hold off a second longer and scream and moan my way through an orgasm which begins at
my navel and powers its way to my clitoris, ending with a pulsating explosion in my vagina. My body
jerks uncontrollably off the chair. I watch him leaving his mark; sucking, biting, bruising the skin on
my inner thigh, pairing pleasure with pain at that unparalleled, climactic moment.
Like a celestial body having peaked, I descend from the sky, a falling star. I slither down from the
chair and he catches me in his arms, lowers me onto him until we are locked together, his knees on
terra firma, our bodies entwined.
Still internally throbbing I tighten my grip around his rigid cock, causing him to sink into me with a
passion that has me questioning my sanity. I am pushed to my limits. Then something happens …
I close my eyes and I see only blinding light. Our cosmic union transcends the expected and falls
into the realms of the fantastical. Our fateful love manifests itself as a supernova. I open my eyes as
our bodies approach detonation. When I look into Ayden’s eyes, I see a universe streaked with
coloured light. I see eternity.
“Do you feel it Beth?” he gasps, close to oblivion.
“Yes, yes. I feel it Ayden.” I cry, lost in the moment.
We climax together! Our seething, scorching orgasms rip us in two. Primal screams fill the room
and linger in the air like stardust at that supreme moment when our two worlds collide …
The earthquake settles and we face one another wide-eyed, trembling and stunned. “Fuck!” is
Ayden’s only response.
Only now do I realise he is still inside me. He makes no attempt to withdraw and I cherish our
intimate connection.
“What the fuck was that?” he asks, taking my face in both hands. He lifts my chin. “I felt like I was
tripping … there was lights and colours and … Wow!” His stare intensifies. “Did you feel it or was it
just me?”
I’m nodding. “Yes I felt it. At first I was scared and then …”
“So was I. But … it was just us. I think we experienced something spiritual Beth.” He’s grinning.
“It was like we really found each other, finally.” He lifts me slowly off him, wrapping his arms around
me protectively like a force field.
Nothing and no-one can touch me now.
From beneath the dark, imposing sky, Dan emerges with a renewed sense of achievement. His
patience has paid dividends and he’s feeling cheerful about the prospect of getting his hands on his
girl.
The pain he is experiencing from his hand and now across his heart is a constant reminder of her
existence. She has long since been an apparition; she’s a warm-blooded, breathing bride. But that’s of
no consequence to him. She is Stone’s in name only; she is his by design.
As he steps from his car he pauses like a hunting dog sniffing the air, catching an unfamiliar scent.
His fighter’s instincts tell him something’s wrong. His hands roll into two tight fists; one gripping
keys, the other punctured by fingernails cutting into pleated skin. His eyes settle on his ground floor
apartment, where the insipid glow of lamplight signals the presence of an uninvited guest.
With stealth he approaches the security entrance and steps inside the building, shocked to see a
busted front door, his front door. With considered footsteps he enters, half hoping the brave bastard
rummaging through his things is still on the premises.
Disappointedly, he wanders through the dusty place, stepping over discarded items en route, before
ending up in his bedroom. He stops dead when he sees the contents of his wardrobe rifled through,
ripped and strewn across the floor like rags. If that’s not bad enough, he spots his special box of
treasures
emptied of its contents; everything he owns pales into insignificance compared to that.
Beneath a pair of slashed jeans is what’s left of an outdated phone; it’s in pieces. Close to it is a
crushed leather purse and a black velvet bag that’s been trampled on and ruined. Like a caged animal
he lets out an almighty roar, a deafening expression of pent up emotion; grief at the loss and rage,
disbelieving someone would invade his private space like this. He falls to his knees scavenging,
looking for the one remaining item that has been his salvation for as long as he can remember. Her
crumpled panties lie blackened by boots; there’s the imprint of a heavy sole that refuses to be brushed
off. It’s the final straw.
He takes out his mobile phone and switches it on, unsure of who to call exactly. As he holds it in his
palm it rings three times. He frowns and thinks aloud, “Three messages in one day?”
As he scrolls down, reading them back, his face becomes a weaker shade of cream with each
ensuing message from Jack Simpson.
08.45
What did u do you crazy fuck! It was a fucking set-up! We’re all fucked!
13.05
I hope yur happy. My place was trashed today. 2 big foreign fuckers kicked the shit out of me.
I’ll be pissing blood for a week. I gave them yur number so theyll be coming for u
14.50
If yur still alive call me!
Dan careers backwards, grinding clothes and broken items into the carpet and yells, “What the
fuck!” Needing to think no more about it, he snatches at clothes and stuffs them carelessly on top of
the items in his rucksack. It’s weighty and bursting at the seams. Before making a run for his car, he
checks left, conceals his face with an enormous hand and walks briskly towards it, hoping the absence
of daylight will help conceal his identity. He accelerates away from the place he used to call home. He
can’t go back there, not if he values his life. Stone’s deal went bad. The guys involved are looking for
him and will stop at nothing to find him. His heart is beating out of his chest at that terrifying thought.
He’s a wanted man.
23
I had planned on staying in bed and languishing in the afterglow of a wedding night so profoundly
TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) Page 47