I took a deep breath and watched him move in.
“Wait,” I said.
“What?” He looked worried, so I smiled.
I pressed two fingers to his lips, smoothing the pads of my digits across his mouth.
“Just wanted to check they’re as soft as I remember from earlier.”
He gulped. “Okay.”
I waited patiently and he studied my face, examining me. “You honestly don’t know how beautiful you are?”
“No.”
“We need to do something about that,” he said, “because god Ciara, you are so very beautiful.”
He swiftly moved in after that, hands holding my cheeks, lips pressing greedily into mine. My eyes shut, I let myself go, holding my arms around him, my one hand returning to his hair again. He growled low in his throat as I kissed him back, opening for him. I let him lick inside my mouth and he kissed me in a way that made me forget everything. I didn’t for one second doubt that he wanted me.
We kissed, in that doorway, for a length of time I could never put a number to. I just knew as he pressed gentle kisses to my lips at the end of it all, my lips stung and my tongue felt tired.
“God, Ciara,” he said, pressing his face into my neck.
His hands ran down my back to cup my arse and I motioned I wanted to jump up. He lifted me up to him, his face still buried in my neck, and I circled my legs around him. Nibbling his ear, I whispered, “I’m so happy, it doesn’t feel right.”
“I know,” he gushed, kissing my throat, pushing himself into my body.
“Oh god,” I begged, when he breathed heavily against the exposed skin of my chest.
I didn’t know if it was real. Was he a rebound? I wasn’t sure of anything.
I couldn’t tell if it was the Guinness or being home, or Edward… or being heartbroken.
He pressed his face against the t-shirt covering my breasts and I cuddled him into me, letting him have this succour – this moment.
He lifted his eyes to mine and gave me a brief kiss.
“We don’t have to do anything, in fact it’ll be better for us to wait, but please tell me you feel this too,” he begged.
I nodded. “It feels like for the first time ever, I’m happy… and I don’t know if to trust it, or run from it.”
He smiled. “Trust in me. Let me prove myself to you. I’ll put everything right, I promise.”
I swallowed down my tears. “Okay, Edward.”
“Good,” he said, and he put me down, and kissed my forehead. “Let’s get you some food, then.”
I agreed with a nod, threading my arm through his. As we walked along the harbour front to get to the chippy, I couldn’t help but snigger at him trying to pull his jumper down to cover himself up.
I didn’t know how we were going to share a bedroom that night without bad things happening…
Thirty-Four
WHEN WE GOT TO THE door of the cottage back at the stables yard, Beth accosted us.
“Pair of filthy stop outs, eh?” she said, smirking as she walked slowly towards us from the door of the main house.
“We went to Moby Dick’s is all,” I said.
“Oh yeah…”
Beth looked between the two of us, eyeing us closely. Edward stood with his hands behind his back though he no doubt itched to touch me.
She was wearing one of her new dresses and as I peered into the house, I saw Kellan sat on the sofa, drinking tins of beer with Dad. From where I stood, it seemed like they got on.
“Where’ve you been tonight?”
“Kellan met us at the arcade and then he brought me back in his car. We went for a burger and brought Da back some fish and chips.”
“We just had fish and chips, too,” Edward said eagerly, and I wished he hadn’t spoken. He sounded so guilty. Beth sniggered and gave me a knowing look.
“How much Guinness have you both had?”
“Not enough,” I said with a wink. Even Beth must have been able to remember that Ciara O’Donoghue always held her drink. My first Guinness was when I was twelve…
“Well you missed the fashion show,” she said, petting the pleats of the new dress she wore. “It was very kind of you both to take me out today. I threw all my old stuff in a sack for the rubbish tip!” She giggled, still high on her day out. It aided me in remembering what it was like to be young and to need such little treats to brighten your day. “Kellan’s far too pleased about all my new underwear!”
“Not in front of company!” I playfully hit her.
“Well…” She bit the inside of her cheek.
“We’re going inside before Edward topples over,” I told her, and then lowered my voice, “he’s not used to how strong it is.”
“I heard that,” he growled, almost laughing.
He was actually swaying because of lust, not the drink.
“Well then,” she said, “I bid you goodnight. Oh if you want, we usually take Da along the beach decking of a Sunday morning. Welcome to join us. Catch some fresh sea air before you both fly tomorrow.”
“Sure, just give us a knock in the morning.”
“Well, sleep tight then,” she said, turning on her heel, giggling as she left.
We got ourselves indoors and I said to him, “Do we look like we’ve been snogging all the way home or something?”
“Must do,” he said, and after we removed our coats, he grabbed me around the waist from behind and growled into my hair. “God, I don’t think I can help myself.”
“Wait,” I said in a sure tone of voice.
He pulled back and I turned around to look at him. He looked perplexed and I motioned, “Have a seat and I’ll get us some tea otherwise you’ll have a cracking headache in the morning.”
“Okay,” he said, though hesitant. Maybe he thought a cup of tea meant it was time for one of those chats…
I quickly made us a couple of drinks and sat down next to him in the shabby-chic sofa which had almost as many imperfections as those old, holey jeans of my sister’s.
“Edward…”
“Yes, what is it? You can tell me.”
I turned to face him in the sofa, our knees touching. “Do you like dommes?”
“Yes,” he said, “very much.”
“Would you like me to be yours?”
“Yes, very much,” he said, flaming red.
The power I held over him had my body whirling with excitement, my stomach churning, my legs fizzing with pent-up energy. I felt I could go out and run a marathon.
“So then you have to do everything I say, right?”
He smiled. “I guess so.”
I gave him a crooked smile. “Everything?”
He chuckled. “Are you going to do bad things to me?”
I sipped my tea. “Perhaps… but not tonight.”
His shoulders slumped in disappointment but he nodded subtly, knowing it was better this way.
“Edward, listen. We have to protect ourselves. We’ve come together through a common friend, Dante. Can you imagine how he would react if he knew what was happening?”
He shook his head side to side. “I don’t know how he would react, actually. He used to be so angry all the time but he’s got so good at hiding his feelings.”
“I agree,” I said, “but look, instead of this being a drunken fling one night in Ireland, we could just… take it slow, and see what happens? I’m going to be honest with you and say that I still think about him and it’s not fair on you if you’re divorcing and vulnerable yourself. It’s not fair on either of us.”
He reached his hand across the chasm between us and touched my hair. “You’re such a good woman.”
“Thank you,” I said, and I took his hand and kissed the inside of his palm.
Pressing his hand to my cheek, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth of a man’s hand against my face. I opened my eyes and watched him take a deep breath, at war with what he wanted. I moved in closer and asked, “Please, just hold me.”
“You don’t
have to ask.”
He held me in his arms, my head tucked under his chin. I draped one leg over his legs and beneath his clothes, I heard his heart pounding wildly as he stroked my hair and my cheek.
“Ciara, can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I said, still cuddled in his embrace, absently counting the beats of his heart per minute. It was going… a hundred a minute at least.
“What do you want, from life? Please, tell me.”
His words immediately brought to mind a conversation I’d had with Dante not many months ago. I’d told him that all I wanted was a man to stand by my side when we went shopping, or to museums, or…
“I want a partner,” I said, so sure of that now, “someone to stand with, someone to… be with me in the open.”
“Not someone who insists on hiding you away?”
“Correct.” I sat up on the sofa, able to look at him again. Taking my cup of tea, I sipped it and crossed my legs next to him. “I used to yearn for these simple pleasures like having him stand with me, like you did today, while my sister and me went shopping. I used to visit museums and want to say something to someone next to me, but there’d be nobody there to converse with. I used to…” I paused, feeling suddenly teary, “…I used to count Sexton as my only friend. He was good to me, listened to me. I can’t believe he’s gone. I feel like I’ve lost so much recently… like my freedom has come at a cost.”
“You shouldn’t think like that.”
I nodded slowly. “God, I’m so sick of thinking… and talking… mulling and musing. I just want to live, Edward but I’m also so conscious of everything that’s happened.”
He looked sorry.
“No, please,” I said, “it’s not you, it’s just that… I’m so sick of analysing all this. I just want to start getting on with my life.”
He frowned, looking worried. “I’m just scared that if I let you have your freedom, you’ll find somebody else to make you happy. And I’ll have missed my chance.”
Why did he have to be so perfect?
“Listen,” I said, “listen carefully,” I repeated, putting down my mug of tea, “if this is meant to be, it will be, whether we want it to be or not. But tonight, I’m saying no. I’m protecting you. Please believe me. I still need time to–”
“Get over him?” He guessed, looking sullen.
“No,” I reacted immediately, “I will never get over him, nor will I ever be able to forget what he’s made me, because I am what I am because of him, you know that?”
“Yes, I know,” he accepted, sullenly.
“Edward, I can’t get over him. You don’t just stop loving someone just like that, but let me tell you, there was a moment where, for the first time in years, I had a choice and I looked at all the facts, and I made my choice to leave him. He’s surrounded himself with danger. He wants that life. He likes that life, whether he will admit it or not. But that life is not for me and as much as I still love him, I won’t go back to that life. I want a husband and a family and he knows that. That’s why he’s gone, because he knows deep down, that despite all the promises he’s made and all the words he said about giving it up, I know he can’t give it up. It’s who he’s become. We just can’t be together and it hurts. It hurts in ways I can’t even describe.”
It hurt because I’d given six years to him. It hurt because he’d not always told me the truth. It hurt because I’d sacrificed so much of myself to be with him and he’d undervalued my sacrifice, ultimately. I’d stayed with him but even then, that still wasn’t enough.
“I’m here for you,” he said, taking my hands, “just remember that.”
“I know but this isn’t going to be easy.”
“Change is never easy,” he said, “some days, you will feel so sick you don’t even feel like you can get out of bed. Some days you’ll feel high, some days you’ll feel lower than low. You might forget to clean your teeth or brush your hair. You might cry for hours and forget that a whole day’s gone by.”
“Edward?” I questioned.
“I’m going through it, too,” he said, “you have no idea how much it hurts when I wake up and don’t see my kids staring back at me. They don’t run into my bed in the morning anymore. I don’t hear their voices from the bathroom at bedtime, squealing as their mother tries to wash their hair. I don’t make them breakfast or watch them playing with their crayons as they do…”
He paused and shook his head, a sad look in his eyes.
“…but my wife met someone else and fell in love when she didn’t think she would ever fall in love the way people do in the movies. One day, my kids will be waking up to him as their mother’s husband instead of me and they’ll probably have other siblings too. I’ll have to share them, Ciara and that hurts more than I could ever tell you. Faith never expected to meet someone and really fall in love. Sometimes you get to a certain age and think it will never happen, or that in my case, Shay was never going to change her mind about me. And then she finally did… and it still wasn’t what I thought it would be. I wasted so much time yearning for her, hoping, praying that one day she would give me a shot when in reality, Shay was a completely different person to the woman I imagined her to be. The thing is,” he said, stroking my knuckles which lay in his lap, “love doesn’t hurt. It heals. And I think,” he said, looking up into my eyes, “that though this change is going to hurt me, like it’s hurting you, eventually I want to be able to say that I experienced real love at least once in my life and I think, right now, we’re building some real love here. We’ll regret it forever if we don’t at least try to… I don’t know… make a go of this.”
He sat staring at me, pleading with his eyes. I wasn’t sure if he was saying that we should jump into bed together, or that we should make a promise to start seeing each other.
“When we get back,” I decided, after a long pause, “I want to spend all my free time with you Edward.”
He nodded, too overwhelmed to say anything.
“But tonight, I’m afraid, you will have to sleep on the sofa otherwise one of us is going to accidentally slip something into the other.”
He burst out laughing, tittering even, and I slid onto his lap and held his shoulders.
“But first, a goodnight kiss…”
He wrapped his arms around my back as I held the sides of his warm, vital throat. Waiting with his lips parted, I leant down and kissed him, and at first he let me. He was so much different to Dante, who had always been impeccably dressed and shaven, groomed to within an inch of his life. The word for Edward was rugged.
I tried to overpower him but he easily overpowered me, kissing me like he was already fucking me. I lost my breath and gave myself up to it, pulling on his hair. His tongue looping and dipping against mine, his moves sent a whopping amount of heat straight to my groin.
“Oh god, we can’t,” I said, and I broke contact, yanking myself away.
It was too soon, far too soon. My gut told me it was wrong, all wrong.
I chased upstairs, ignoring his pleas, and locked myself in the bedroom.
I had to constantly stop comparing him to Dante inside my head.
I still wasn’t over the love of my life; in fact I knew for a fact I would never love anyone as much as Dante. He was a part of me. Historically. Emotionally. Sexually.
He’d been the one to awaken me.
Part Three: Future
Thirty-Five
I SWANNED AROUND PERNOX, MAKING sure everything was running smoothly, both beneath stairs and upstairs. I’d realised Edward was right about the dungeons going unused so we’d opened them up again, virtually as soon as I got back from Ireland. We’d made a lot of changes to the place I was proud of. Ordinary women now used the spa house to pamper themselves and prepare for a night of debauchery, sometimes going beneath stairs to spank their husband or boyfriend… or someone entirely new and strange. We’d broadened our social circle and Pernox was no longer open for the preferential few. As long as you had
money, you were in, regardless of social circles. Cliques dispensed with, our house was now a sort of free house. We trained women to become dominants and also submissives. Spanking their other halves wasn’t for everyone. We had to be broadminded, we had to be… accommodating, and the tastes of the many were many.
I’d employed some beefy bouncers who were hardly ever noticed by our guests but were there nonetheless to break up any scraps, if there ever were any. (There weren’t.)
Everybody seemed happy.
I wandered the dungeon and spotted our newest housewife, Trudy spanking her husband in their own room. Dressed in a maid’s outfit, I saw the look in her eyes was one of thrill as she hit him, and he groaned. She caught my eye and smiled and I walked onwards. When Trudy showed up a couple of weeks before, Tara said the woman couldn’t even talk to strangers. Now she was spanking her husband in front of all kinds of people. These men and women didn’t just come here for kicks, they came to find their confidence, and we were giving it to them.
With the evening’s clientele all seemingly happy and nothing much more for me to do, I walked upstairs to my office and sat behind the double pedestal desk. I’d had the room redecorated since Shay’s demise, but something about the desk told me to keep it. It was one of those old desks, with a set of drawers either side of the leg room. A leather pad on top. It had a built-in desktop unit with rows of little drawers for clandestine notes to be stashed (little keys to lock them all) and a secret pullout writing surface underneath so you could tuck your legs into your chair and drape the writing shelf right across your lap if you wished.
I often sat there late into the night, writing in my notepads, as had been my habit for years now.
The phone rang and I answered it. “Madam Cleo speaking.”
“It’s me,” Edward said.
“Oh, yeah, umm, how are you?”
It had been awkward on the plane journey back from Ireland and even more awkward when he dropped me home here. I was confused and still didn’t really know what was going on. Maybe he knew the score because he didn’t question me.
The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2) Page 34