Chapter 18 Questions
Questions
Showered and dressed in our comfy pajamas, sleep pants and a T-shirt for him, a shorty sleep set and bra for me, we sat side-by-side on the couch with barely enough room for The Holy Spirit between us.
After leaving the marble monstrosity, one Kian told his brothers would make an excellent restoration project for a bed and breakfast or high-end spa, we grabbed dinner, then made our way back to the cabin.
Kian built a fire in the backyard pit where we talked quietly. Strangely unburdened by the past, the topics we covered became increasingly intimate until the mosquitos chased us inside to the living room.
“I had a girlfriend in high school who broke up with me when we went off to university. There was one girl in my first year for a few months followed by a couple of hook-ups, then Wren.” He shrugged, then winced.
“I actually really liked her. I don’t remember much about that night, but I do remember being devastated when she was gone the next morning. ”
The movie we pretended to watch played almost soundlessly in the background.
“I’d already grown tired of the hook-up culture.” He snorted, his handsome face twisting. “But I guess I wasn’t all in to be a father either.”
“Of course you weren’t,” I murmured, reaching for his hand. “You have to stop blaming yourself for a totally understandable reaction.”
He shook his head and laced his fingers through mine. “There was nobody after Wren. At first, I was looking for her and wasn’t interested in anyone else. Then, after she told me she was pregnant, I spiralled. When I went back to try to find her, it got worse. There was nobody else until my wife.”
“Has there been anyone since your wife?”
“Nothing serious,” he murmured.
“What was your sex life like with your wife?” My eyes bugged out. “Is that okay to ask?”
He smiled, his gaze soft and unfocussed, one foot in the past. “We loved each other so it was good even when it wasn’t, and it got better the longer we were together.
” His smile widened. “My wife was a proud, self-professed, pillow princess.” He laughed.
“She loved watching figure skating and had taken to calling out my score. 5.8, 5.9, a perfect 6.0.” His smile faded.
“She was my best friend before she was my lover. She knew everything and accepted all of me.”
What kind of person did it make me that I was jealous of a dead woman? A woman who didn’t get to raise her son with the man she loved.
He stroked my wrist with his thumb. “I’m sorry, Bridge. I shouldn’t be going on like this.”
“I’m sorry you lost her, Kian,” I murmured, surprised to find it was the truth.
His focus sharpened on my face. “I’m glad you’re not jealous.”
I laughed. “Oh, I am most definitely jealous. Envious, too,” I admitted. “But, if I could undo the past to bring her back to you, I’d do it.”
“Thank you.” He offered me his crooked smile. Wagging his eyebrows, he teased, “I’m wagering you are not a pillow princess.”
I went along with his bid to coax the conversation away from the losses in his past. “I don’t think so…”
His brow furrowed. “You don’t know?”
I shrugged. “Not really? I was in my twenties when I met my ex-husband, and I’d only had two long-term boyfriends before him.
I’d barely scratched the surface of what I liked when I met Gary.
Maybe if I’d had more time to explore, or a partner who made me secure enough to experiment, I would have known it never would have worked with how rigid and controlling he was. ”
He hummed low then brought the back of my hand to his lips. “Are you going to do this with me?”
I’d stripped my soul bare, and he still wanted me. There would never be anyone else for me.
But could I be free with him?
Could I at least try?
I took a deep breath. “You think you can handle me?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he teased, dipping his face closer to mine as the movie ended and the screen faded to black. “What did you have in mind?”
Rising onto one knee, I slung my thigh over his legs and slowly lowered my plump ass to his muscular thighs.
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, his deep voice a warning, or maybe, a plea as his big hands came to my hips. “Bridget.”
My heart thrilled at the heat in his eyes.
Was it safe?
Was it safe to explore this with him?
Would he laugh? Scoff? Roll his eyes?
There was only one way to find out.
“You asked me a question.” Ignoring the tremor in my hands, I dragged my palms down the hard planes of his chest. “Don’t you want me to answer?”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you worried I won’t be able to handle your bossy, kinky little self?”
I swallowed and bravely met his eyes. “A bit.”
In the end, if it made the difference between having him or not, did it matter? But I so badly wanted him to be okay with it, with me, just the way I was.
“I’ve thought about little else for weeks.” He admitted roughly, then cocked his head to the side. “And I have limits.”
I drew back, sliding my hands away from his chest.
He snatched my wrists and put my hands back on his chest. “No degradation. No third.”
I searched his eyes. “I would never degrade you. And I might kill you if you brought someone else into our bed.”
Crinkling at the corners, those warm, hazel eyes smiled into mine. “Go ahead. Be free. Tell me what’s on your kinky little mind.”
“Um, would you like it if I sent you a dirty video?” My voice rose high with uncertainty.
“How dirty?” he immediately countered, eyes flashing.
My face flamed, but it was now or never. And I wasn’t wasting another minute being afraid he might not want all of me.
I’d rather know for sure.
I took a deep breath. “A close-up of my fingers deep inside my pussy?”
His pupils dilated. Dragging my hand down over his abdomen, he pressed my palm to his erection and held my eyes. “You still have doubts?”
My breath escaped in a rough pant.
His eyes flitted to my parted lips and his jaw tightened.
The hunger in his gaze straightened my spine and curved my mouth. Splaying my hands across his chest, I rubbed my thumbs over his nipples and gathered my courage.
Inhaling deeply, he tugged my hips up his thighs until my heat hugged his cock. The thin fabric of our pajamas provided little barrier between us.
“Would you like to tie me to your bed?” I paused and continued slowly, each word dripping like honey from my lips as I rolled my hips over his erection. “My legs spread wide, thighs slick, pussy swollen, helpless to do anything but take whatever you want to give me?”
One of his hands clasped the back of my neck, holding my head immobile for a brutal kiss, our first, while the other yanked my hips down as he thrust up against my core.
When I pictured our first kiss, it had never been this bruising, conquering battle of tongues, his hand fisted tightly in my hair.
My heart leapt at shaking this gentle man’s control.
“I’ve dreamed of kissing that mouth,” he admitted. Tipping his head back, his hands dropped to cradle my hips. Jaw tight, eyes squeezed shut, he grunted, “I feel your heat.”
“Mm,” I hummed, grinding my clit against his delicious erection. “I feel your hard.”
Fighting for control, he pressed his forehead to mine, his chest expanding with his deep inhale. The tension in his body eased as he leaned back and grasped my hips to hold them still. “It’s not going to be hard for long if you keep this up,” he huffed with a soft, self-deprecating laugh.
I smiled into hazel eyes lit with warmth and humour. Happiness bloomed inside me and escaped with a chuckle. Ramping up the pressure, I dipped my head and licked across his bottom lip as my heart thundered behind my ribs.
“For fuck’s sake, Bridget,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”
I nibbled along his sharp jawline, interspersing my words with barely there licks and sharp little nips.
“How about on my knees, naked, head tipped back, swallowing your cock?” My eyes fluttered shut as my clit pulsed. “Does that sound good? Would you tell me to open wide and stick out my tongue, ready to swallow every drop of your come?”
Fingers digging into my flesh, he dragged me back up his thighs as his hips punched up.
“Tell me,” I continued softly, rolling my hips. “Am I naked in this scenario, servicing you while you’re fully dressed?”
“We have to stop,” he gritted out.
“Are you sure, Kian?” Need spread like wildfire from my womb.
“Remember, you’re the one who started this line of questioning,” I countered lazily, drunk with desire, heady with feminine power.
Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, I pressed, murmuring against his mouth, “Can I have just one more little question?”
Face flushing darkly, he grunted as he slowly dragged my hips back and forth, rubbing my wet core over his cock. “One more.”
“If you came home from work to find me bent over the back of this couch wearing nothing but red stilettos and a lacy G-string, would you slide your finger along that string, pull it to the side, and bury your cock inside me?”
He shuddered beneath me then his hips began to roll in earnest.
I trembled with anticipation, my hands tightening in his hair as I imagined his hands hard on my hips, eyes locked on my ass as he fucked me.
I dropped my voice. It shook when I spoke. “Or maybe you’d drop to your knees, rip that string out of the way, and lick me until I come all over that pretty mouth of yours just like I did last night.”
“Aw, fuck,” he grunted. His hands clenched around my hips, those delicious muscles in his arms flexing as he held my core flush against his madly driving hips.
I fought back my arousal and watched him. Lips parted, my breath escaped in sharp pants as his big body shuddered beneath me.
My needy pussy clenched around nothing as he squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisted in a grimace as a long, pained groan escaped that pretty, pretty mouth.
I rolled my hips against his still pulsing cock, noting the growing wet spot on his shorts with infinite satisfaction.
I’d never been so turned on in my life.