Chapter 26 #2
“I did it,” she said again, her voice barely audible now.
Ciaran reached out before he thought better of it. His thumb brushed the tear from her cheek. The skin there was warm where the tear had been.
Ava turned her face sharply under his hand and sat up. “And ye ruined it.”
The words came out with such force that he dropped his hand at once.
He stared at her. “Ruined it?”
“Aye.”
“Ava, I didnae mean to—”
Ava’s breath shook. “Aye, but ye did, did ye nae? Ye ruined it with yer distance, yer decision—everything.”
He said nothing.
She pressed one hand hard against her mouth for a second, then dragged it away and looked squarely at him as though whatever held her back had broken clean through.
“Ye do this to me, and then ye tell me ye want an annulment.”
Ciaran felt every part of his body go still.
Ava kept going. “Ye ken, maybe the annulment is what we need. For the love of God, I am unable to figure ye out. In fact, I think I preferred it when I only kent ye as the Silent Death.”
“This is difficult for me, too.”
“Is it? Because so far, there is only one confused party here, and it is me. Ye pull away, and then ye come close. Ye say things, and then ye unsay them with yer whole manner. Ye make choices for me, choices for yerself, choices for us both, and ye never seem to ken what ye want until it has already hurt me.”
Her voice had lost all care for order now. It came fast and raw, and he could see in her face that the words were surprising her even as she said them.
“And all the while, I…” She stopped and squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again with tears bright on her lashes. “All the while, I wanted ye so much that I could hardly bear it.”
The confession hit him like a physical blow. His mind still refused it for one beat as the words settled around him.
What? Had he heard that right?
She laughed once, a broken sound devoid of humor. “Do ye ken what that is like?”
Ciaran’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Ava’s hands had curled into the coat beneath her.
“Sometimes I feel as if I will burst from something I cannae even describe. I am angry with ye and hurt by ye, and still I…” Her throat worked.
“Still, I think of how close I want ye. Still, I lie awake wanting yer hands on me. Then I look at ye and forget every sensible thing I ever meant to do.”
He could only stare at her.
“What?” she snapped. “Ye are short of words now?”
“What?” It was all he had.
Ava’s face crumpled for one second before she pulled it back into shape. “That is what I thought.” She got to her knees as if to rise. “I need ye to help me through this, and ye stand there talking about an annulment.”
That was the final straw.
He caught her before she could get to her feet and pulled her into him. Then his lips landed fierce and hard on hers. The kiss was filled with hunger, anger, and the relief of finally knowing that this torment had been on both sides.
Ava made a sound against his mouth and gripped his shoulders. He held the back of her neck with one hand and her waist with the other, and kissed her until everything around them disappeared.
She kissed him back with equal fervor as he pulled her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. The coat beneath them bunched under their knees, and soon, her fingers were in his hair, and his breath had grown ragged.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, it was only far enough to ask one question.
“Is this what ye need from me, lassie?”
The question hung between them in the cold night air.
Ava could feel his breath on her lips and his hand still warm at the back of her neck and the full weight of everything she had said still sitting raw between them. She looked at his face. The hunger in it was plain and undisguised and it undid her completely.
“Aye,” she said. “It is.”
He kissed her again, slower this time. His hand slid from her waist to her hip and then lower, gathering the hem of her dress with steady fingers. She felt the cold air touch her leg and then his hand replaced it, warm and firm, moving upward along her thigh without hesitation.
“Ciaran,” She moaned as she gripped his shoulder hard.
When his fingers found the center of her legs, she made a gasp against his mouth that she could not have stopped if she tried.
He did not stop. He touched her rather slowly and she felt her whole body grow heavy and warm.
She could not hold still if she tried and her head dropped forward against his shoulder.
He worked her slowly as she pressed her face into the side of his neck and felt his pulse against her cheek. Before she could think better of it, she reached between them with one hand and pressed her palm flat against his trousers.
He was hard.
Achingly, unmistakably hard.
She felt the full extent of him through the fabric and something moved through her low and immediate just at the knowledge of it.
She rubbed her hand against him slowly.
His breath changed at once. She felt it against her cheek, and she pressed harder and felt him push into her hand in answer.
She worked her palm against him with more intent and his head dropped back, jaw loose, a rough broken sound escaping him into the night air.
She watched his throat move and she watched what must be the last wave of control leave his face.
“Ava, ye cannae—” the rest of his words disappeared in utter pleasure.
His hips rolled forward against her hand. Once, then again, slow and helpless, as a low moan came out of him that he made no attempt to catch. The sound sent heat straight through her while his hand fisted in her hair and his breath came in ragged pulls.
Then, almost out of nowhere, his hand closed over her wrist and drew it firmly away.
“Nae tonight,” he said. His voice was wrecked. “Nae like this.”
Ava lifted her head and looked at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark, and he was still breathing unevenly. She did not argue. Something in the way he said it held a weight.
He held her gaze for one moment and then his fingers moved again.
Whatever restraint he had exercised before was gone now. He touched her with intent and precision, reading every sound she made and adjusting accordingly, and she gripped his shirt with both hands and held on.
The pleasure built fast and her thighs trembled. She could practically hear herself because the night was too quiet and it shamed her not at all.
“Ciaran.” His name came out wrecked and bare.
His mouth found hers at once.
He kissed her deeply, covering whatever sound followed, swallowing it whole, and she felt it crest through her like a wave breaking from a long way off.
The climax rolled through her body in a way that locked her breath and arched her spine and dragged a sound from her that he caught cleanly against his lips.
She gripped the front of his shirt and held on while it moved through her in full, every part of her shaking, her face pressed close against his and his mouth firm over hers until the very last of it.
For a moment neither of them moved, then Ava sat back enough to look at his face to watch him.
He said nothing.