The Essence of Fate

by Alison E. Steuart

  I can’t hold back, exploding around him as he pounds into me with bruising force, pushing my orgasm deeper as my body starts to go limp. “No!” he says with one last hard thrust and stays fully buried inside me. “Don’t stop… Don’t stop cumming.” My head falls back against the tree as he controls my orgasm beyond what I thought was possible. His hot mouth latches onto my exposed neck as his entire body presses against mine, spreading my legs further and making full contact with my clit.

  “Ian!” I cry as the pleasure becomes too much.

  He thrusts hard again without pulling out, striking against my deepest wall, keeping my climax alive. Again…again…it’s too much. I feel myself entering that euphoric space and I don’t fight it as the darkness closes in. “Look at me!” I try to open my eyes but can’t. “Look at me, Charlotte!” I hear him yell as my head pops up. What I find when my eyes finally open will be etched in my soul for eternity. Ian’s face, ravaged with emotion, his eyes fierce, as if he’s lived a thousand lives. But the evidence of his tears, the streaks of wetness running down his blessed face, break my heart and completely mend it all at once. I reach up to wipe them away, whispering his name.

  His hard thrusts begin to slow as we stare into each other’s eyes, seeing each other’s souls and knowing we are home. Without a word, he gently releases each leg, my body flinching as it tries to adjust. Standing in front of him as he steadies my balance, he asks, “How is your back?”

  It’s then I notice the painful sting my mind had previously ignored. “It hurts,” I answer truthfully.

  “Turn around.” His voice is a gravelly command. I do as he says and hear his breath hitch when he sees the damage. Startled by his reaction, I turn to ask, “What? Is it bad?” only to find him staring at my back with the look of a starved predator.

  “Turn around,” he says almost angrily, “Put your hands on the tree.”

  My heart starts beating faster as I do what he wishes, placing my hands on the rough surface. He doesn’t come to me immediately, making me anxious about what he has planned. Then I feel his warm hands on the front of my hips. “Bring your legs back,” he says in a tender voice, his foot tapping the inside of mine to make sure they are spread the way he wants them.

  The next sensation makes every nerve in my body jump. “Shhhh…” he consoles as he runs his finger around and between the scratches and cuts he left behind. “I will make the pain go away.” His tone is reassuring as he continues tracing a path around my back. At first, I don’t like it. The nerves are raw and I want him to stop. But as he continues with his gentle touch, his voice hypnotizing as he tells me how beautiful I am, the pain starts to dissipate and I find myself getting aroused…precisely as Ian wanted me to be.

  When his warm tongue glides across an open wound, he moans out in hunger. When his lips add to the warmth and pleasure-pain, I feel a throbbing in my clit that forces my back to arch and my ass to move toward him in obvious invitation.

  “That’s it,” he says, the vibration of desire in his deep voice flushing my wet pussy with heat. His mouth is still on my back as he reaches down to tease me, making my head fall forward as I cry out and push against his hand. There is a painful tenderness everywhere, but I don’t care… The pleasure is so intense. Pushing against the tree for leverage, I thrust my hips back, begging him to fuck me with his hand. Another growl echoes through the canopy as he abruptly pulls away and lights up my ass with one smack of his wet hand.

  “Ian!” My voice is dry from heavy breathing.

  Pulling me upright, he stands in front of me, clutching my face with his left hand and tracing my lips with the wetness on his right, his huge erection pressing hard against my stomach. Opening my mouth, I watch as he pushes his finger inside, my lips automatically closing around it. His lips part on a harsh inhale. That’s when I notice the blood on his lips. Releasing his finger, I pull his face to me, taking his mouth…wanting to taste the evidence of our passion. He lets me, and the mingled taste of his mouth, my blood, and our essence drugs my brain as I unconsciously bite his lip wanting the addition of his blood to our potion.

  Abruptly pulling back, he stares down at me, breath heaving from his chest. My finger comes up to touch the spot of red swelling on his bottom lip. When I bring it to my mouth, its metallic flavor spreading across my tongue, his eyes turn to onyx—a black glass that seems inhuman, possessed, a kind of wizardry that hypnotizes my mind.

  Breaking the spell as his thumb sweeps hard across my lips, he declares in a voice that is not his own, an unmistakable trace of the accent of this land, “Forgive me, Charlotte. But I am not done.” Chills spread across my body when he demands, “I want ye on yer hands and knees…now.”

  Dropping down on my knees in front of him, I look up, waiting for permission to take him in my mouth. His cock jumps as a shiny bead leaks from its tip, making my mouth water. Without warning, he reaches forward to grab the back of my head, guiding himself toward my lips. He controls my movements as he forces me to take him deep…once…twice, then holds it there before yanking it out. “No more!”

  Still gripping my hair, he gently pulls my head back so our eyes can make contact. “Your beautiful mouth is too much for me…I want your ass in the air, right now.” He releases me so I can take position in front of him, adrenaline mixing with excitement and arousal. I am completely exposed, exactly as he wishes. The first smack takes me by surprise. There was no soft caress prior, no warning beyond the animalistic sound that escaped his throat. The second comes immediately after, stinging more than the first. Again, no warning. The heat travels from the point of contact, around my body, then lands between my legs in a warm gush. Again, harder, and I feel myself opening to him, pushing myself toward him wanting more. Again…and this time he stops to caress the sting, absorbing some of the heat into his hand.

  I’m expecting another stinging slap, but he catches me off guard by swiping his fingers across my wet pussy, then balling his fist to roll it around my openings, switching from one to the other. The pressure he applies borders on too much and takes me right to the edge of losing control before he lights me up with another stinging smack. My God! Five more stings in rapid succession, then he buries his face between my legs, moaning and growling, forcing me to push myself hard against him.

  Pulling away, he brings his wet face and mouth to my flaming hot skin where he cools it with his lips and tongue, soothing it with an erotic kiss that escalates the pleasure-pain to a dizzying high.

  The cold air clings to the wetness he left behind as he turns to gather our clothes and lay them out in a soft bed that he directs me to lie upon. I happily abide and once I’m on my back facing him, bones the consistency of jelly, legs falling to either side, my eyes roll back in exhaustion. He reaches up to grab my face in his firm grip, then turns my head, growling out, “Look at me, Charlotte. Open your eyes and look at me.”

  As soon as I do, he drives himself straight to my core. I scream out as my head goes back and my spine arches to a painful degree waking up the sting his gentle touch had numbed. He drives harder and harder into me, my legs, weak from the force of his taking, barely functioning as they flail at my side. He lets go of my face and, again, reaches behind my head, wrapping my hair around his fist, pulling my face up to his. “Open your fucking eyes, Charlotte.”

  Mustering what little strength I have left, I do his bidding and shatter into a million pieces as his voice breaks and his thrusts become strained. “Never…again. Never…again…will you…leave me.” And we both fall into a climax that surpasses anything we have experienced together before—where our souls become one, floating through space and time, creating that blinding light I have come to know as pure love.

  We stay with it as long as we can, not wanting it to end. Something this powerful doesn’t happen more than once—at least not in one lifetime.

  Knowing my back can’t take much more, he rolls over, taking me with him so that I can comfortably fall asleep on top of him. I do, immediate
ly. For how long, I have no idea. All I know is that when I finally wake up, Ian is on his side next to me, staring at me, playing with my hair. Leaning in to kiss my temple, he whispers, “I love you, Charlotte.” Then he makes love to me so tenderly, so carefully, his heart fully exposed while he kisses away my tears.

  It’s true. I now know for certain that our souls have loved before, in this very place, maybe even beyond the lives of Ella and Alasdair. That it was just as deep and passionate then as it is today. And I know that when this life is over…we will find each other again.

  As I lie here in Ian’s arms, sated and content while he breathes gently in his sleep, I open my eyes and catch the sunlight where it follows my little winged friend, busily stopping here and there on a mission that now seems more precise than random.

  As if sensing my observation, it flies over to us but pauses far enough away to keep its identity a mystery. It lingers, almost intentionally, before excitedly flying away, performing playful, whimsical aerobatics as it goes.

  A soft smile lifts the corners of my mouth as I add another question to the long list I’ve compiled in my mind for Ella. Did you encounter these little winged mysteries, as well? I have no way of knowing for certain, but here, in this magical forest, I know in my heart the answer is….yes.

  Thirty-Two

  Nana: Well, that worked out well. I knew if we just guided them in the right direction they would get their heads screwed back on straight.

  * * *

  James: Yes, agreed. A little family intervention is sometimes necessary.

  * * *

  Nana: I guess I’ll finally get to meet you at the wedding. I know Ian, and he won’t be wasting any time making Charlotte his bride.

  * * *

  James: I suspect not and I look forward to it. Save a dance for me.

  * * *

  Nana: You can count on it :)

  Epilogue

  Ian ~ 60 years later

  I’ve been sitting here for days, holding her beautiful hand still warm with life, knowing that it won’t last much longer. She told me to be strong, for the kids…but I can’t. She’s everything to me, the reason I exist. How am I supposed to go on?

  I break again, wracking sobs that hurt my aching chest. Holding her hand up to my mouth, I kiss her beautifully aged skin, afraid I might be hurting her I’m grasping it so hard, begging God to take me, too.

  It seems like only yesterday we celebrated her eighty-eighth birthday. She was so vibrant and happy and alive… God, she was so beautiful. All the kids flew in. James, Elise, Lily, and Nicholas, their husbands and wives, all ten grandkids, and our closest friends. She wanted it to be at our estate in the Bahamas, her favorite place in the world. The place where she wants to die. If that’s what she wants, that’s what she will have. I’ve always made sure of that. Little does she know, I may never be able to set foot here again once she’s gone. I don’t think my heart could handle it, picturing her walking the shoreline looking for treasures or trimming the branches of her tropical fruit trees or playing with the grandkids down by the beach. It will be empty and pointless without her.

  For years now she’s been talking about the party she’s going to throw for my 100th birthday, and I never questioned it, never doubted it would happen. I know for a fact now that I won’t make it to 100, four years from now, and I honestly don’t care. The kids know how much I love them. I raised them to be strong and independent, but more importantly, they know how much their mother means to me. They know I don’t want to live without her.

  Still holding her hand, the hospice nurse comes in to check on her, offers me a few kind words, and leaves me alone. Glancing over, I see one of our wedding pictures and my heart aches with longing to go back in time. To stand there nervously waiting for her to appear, and then she finally does, looking more beautiful than words can describe. I wonder why the universe thought I should be that fortunate.

  It was a perfect wedding, intimate with family and a few close friends. It took place in Scotland, under the same ancient oak where our souls became one. That was sixty years ago; we were married three months later. God, I just want to go back. I could live my life with her over and over again…a thousand times and it would never get old.

  Wiping away the tears that never seem to stop, I feel her move, coming out of her slumber. These moments have become fewer and fewer over the past 48 hours, and I cherish them more than words can express.

  “Ian,” she whispers, weak and gravelly.

  “Yes, my love.” It’s hard to speak.

  “Are you okay?” She asks me that every time she wakes up, and every time I give her the same answer.

  “No. I’m not.”

  “I need you to be.” She says that every time, as well.

  “You know I can’t.” I barely finish as the sobs break free. I fall onto her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her fragile form.

  “Ian.” She’s barely able to bring her hand up to my face. “Look at me.”

  I don’t want to. I know what’s happening, and I don’t want it to. I can’t accept it. I’m too selfish. She’s mine. She’s mine, goddammit!

  “Ian…please.”

  “I can’t do this, Charlotte. Take me with you.”

  “No, Ian. You have to stay…trust me.” She closes her eyes and takes a few shallow breaths. “Listen to me…”

  She’s so weak. I can’t do this. I’m not ready.

  “Tell the kids…I love them…I love them so much.” She pauses again, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. “Tell them…I’m sorry I couldn’t wait.” She’s crying now, and it’s tearing me apart. “I have to go now, Ian. It’s time.”

  “No…no. Please not yet, Charlotte. I don’t want to be here without you.” My whole body is shaking, knowing I am powerless.

  “I love you, Ian…I loved you in this lifetime…and all the others from our past…with all my heart and soul.” Pausing on a few more shallow breaths, she says, barely audible, “And I will love you more…in the next…life to come…I promise.”

  Bringing my mouth up to hers, I tell her I love her and breathe in her last breath.

  “I will find you, my love…my soul will find you…again.”

  Acknowledgement

  I would like to thank my wonderful husband for being my sounding board throughout the long writing process and my lovely daughter for her insight and advice, all of which was spot on. My son will have nothing to do with this book and is kind of mad at me for writing it…haha!

  * * *

  Thank you to Julie Doner (pen name Julie Evelyn Joyce), who encouraged me years ago to “just start writing!”. I eventually took her advice and after writing Chapter One, I was hooked. She has taught me so much that made the writing process a deeper and more satisfying creative outlet. Julie is an amazing writer and an amazing person. You can find out more about her and her award winning books at julieevelynjoyce.com

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  Thank you to my editors. They did such a fantastic job and their insight, suggestions, constructive criticism, and encouragement is invaluable.

  Erica Russikoff - Beta read and proofread (ericaedits.com)

  Traci Finlay - 1st Copy edit (tracifinlay.com)

  Julie Doner - 2nd Copy edit

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  A special thank you goes to James Fryer. He is the phenomenal artist whose drawings are featured in the story. I happened upon his work several years ago and fell in love with his series of surfer girls. Check out his beautiful and diverse artwork @james.fryer_art on Instagram and online at noahsbeach.com

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  Thank you to Linda Russell at Foreword PR & Marketing (forewordpr.com) for all of her great advice and patience. Launching your first book is an overwhelming task, Linda brought it all down to earth and took away a lot of the pressure. Her guidance and recommendations are honest and straightforward. I couldn’t have done it without her.

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  Thank you Marisa Wesley at Cover me Darling (coverm
edarling.com) for the awesome book cover. Another woman of great patience and understanding. No matter how many times I changed something, big or small, she never made it seem like I was driving her crazy. She was truly a pleasure to work with.

  * * *

  A big thanks to Lori and Heidi for reading my story long before its release and giving me your honest opinions and encouragement!

  Where to Find Alison

  Website:

  alisonesteuart.com

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  Email:

  alisonsteuart.author@gmail.com