25. Scarlett
Chapter 25
Scarlett
S o…this is what it feels like to be in love.
I think it took me a minute to realize that’s what’s going on because it’s been a long time and it’s so different this time.
I was in love with Eli. I don’t doubt that. But that was young love. That was first love. That was an inexperienced, starry-eyed girl falling for an older man who she saw as a future husband and the father of her children. A guy who she thought was exactly who she should fall in love with.
I fell in love fast. It was easy. It felt right and good.
Like this does.
But I’m more mature this time. I’ve been through some stuff. I know that love should feel good, but I also know that it has to be more than just feelings. It has to make sense. It has to stand up to tests and trials. And the only way to know that it will is with time.
But…I can admit that I want this to be real with Cian.
Cian O’Grady couldn’t be more different from that soft-spoken, conservative preacher who’d had his life all planned out and his goals clearly defined.
And who’d run at the first sign of adversity.
This exuberant, sexy, charming younger man who thinks I can do things that I haven’t even imagined for myself has made my life fun and happy and sexy. He is vastly different from my first love.
Cian doesn’t let obstacles deter him. In fact, I’m not so sure he believes there truly are obstacles to the things he wants. He hasn’t even let his own grandfather set the rules—not in where he’s lived, or how he’s lived, for the past twelve years, and not in who he should marry. I can’t imagine Cian listening to my father try to impose his beliefs on Cian or his life. That makes me feel…safe.
Cian does what he wants to. That sounds very privileged, and it is, to be sure, but I also know his heart. What he wants to do is good. And when he says he wants to take care of me, I can’t keep it from seeping in and making me believe it. Not just that he wants to, but that he will. He’s brought a warmth to my life that I didn’t even realize was so cold.
Eli ran away from me. Cian never stopped looking for me.
So, yes, I’m falling in love with him.
That’s clear as day.
But I have to be smart. I have to be careful. I have to take my time. I’m a mom. I have to learn from my past experiences. Because it’s happening so fast with Cian. And it has been easy.
Of course, some of what I’m feeling tonight might be due, at least in part, to the nearly non-stop laughing with the Landrys and their inner circle—which is huge —and the delicious food and drink. Particularly the moonshine that Leo Landry makes right there in the backyard where everyone is sitting around in chairs and at picnic tables.
After Cian and I agreed to stay tonight, the party moved outside to the area behind the bar, where they threw together a crawfish boil when they found out I’d only been to one in all the time I’d lived in New Orleans.
Tables, dishes, and food seemingly appeared by magic. We ate and drank, talked, drank, told stories, drank, even danced…and drank some more.
I haven’t had this much fun in forever.
Seriously, maybe ever.
Now I’m watching Cian cross from the other side of the firepit where he went to talk to Henry for a minute, back to me.
God, he’s gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. His eyes, his smile, his shoulders, his ass.
He stops in front of the chair I’m curled up in, someone’s hoodie draped over my lap. I tip my head back and smile up at him. “You’re so hot.”
He gives me a crooked grin. “Ditto.”
“I’m having so much fun.”
His smile softens with affection that steals my breath for a moment. He leans over, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. “I love having you here.”
“Kiss me,” I say softly, the words going through my mind just spilling out.
He leans in. “Gladly. Any time. Any place.”
He presses his lips to mine and I sigh against his mouth. It’s a sweet kiss. Nothing hot or sexy. Just…affectionate.
Being the object of Cian’s affection is addictive.
He pulls back only an inch to say, “I love being able to do that. In public. In front of people.”
“Me too,” I admit.” I let out a long breath. “I could stay here,” I tell him. “Seriously. I really love your people. Mariah and Ruby would love them, too.”
He pulls back a little further to look into my eyes. His expression is serious now. Possessive, if I had to pick a word to name it. “Be careful what you say to me. You know making you happy, making sure you can shine, is everything I want. You can definitely do that here.”
I put my hand against the side of his face. “I do know that.”
Emotions swirl in his eyes as he studies mine. Finally, he says huskily, “Okay, sweet witch, time for bed.”
He pulls me to my feet and I happily step close and wrap my arms around his neck. He bends and sweeps me up into his arms, bridal style.
I rest my head on his shoulder. This feels really nice.
“I can probably walk.”
“I like this better.” He starts for the parking lot.
I feel my eyes sliding shut. But it’s more out of contentment than fatigue. “Do you have a bathtub in your house here?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. A big one. All my own.”
“Excellent news,” I murmur. “And no matter how sleepy I seem between now and the time we get to that bathtub, I would really like to try it out.”
He chuckles softly, and I love the way the sound rumbles through my body.
“Are you drunk?” he asks.
“Tipsy. Not too drunk.”
He stops by the car and lets me slide down the front of his body. I stand looking up at him.
“I really like you,” I tell him.
I think it’s too soon to tell him I’m falling in love, but I can’t not say anything at all.
If I said love , he’d drag me to the Justice of the Peace tomorrow. And there’s a tiny part of me that would be fine with that. A tiny part of me feels the twist of adrenaline at the thought.
But I really am older, wiser, more mature now. I would have run off with Eli. I’d expected him to ask. After my dad shunned us, I’d had visions of him showing up at my house in the middle of the night, declaring his feelings, and whisking me away.
But Eli never came. He left town. Without me. Without even saying goodbye. Without a word about his unborn child or the future with him or her.
And now, sixteen years later, I can admit that was for the best.
But that pain changed me.
Being changed by pain is sometimes the way it has to happen. I know that and I know now that it’s not my fault that I was hurt.
But being changed by hope, by goodness, and by love is a much better way to go.
Cian’s expression is full of affection when he brushes my hair back from my face. “You make me actually feel like a king.”
I smile. “You act like one, you know. Wanting to help people. Wanting everyone to be taken care of and to have a future and to feel good about their lives.”
He shakes his head slightly as if he doesn’t know what to do with me, then bends and kisses my forehead. “You are too drunk to take a bath by yourself though, right? I think it would be safer if I was in there with you.”
I laugh softly. Actually, it’s a giggle. A happy, I’m-falling-in-love giggle. “Oh, definitely safer if you’re with me.”
“Excellent answer.”
He pulls the car door open and helps me in.
It only takes five minutes to get to the house that sits a few blocks from Ellie’s, inside, and up to Cian’s rooms.
Yes, rooms. Plural. Even though this is a seemingly normal two-story house in a small town in Louisiana, it’s clearly been added onto and renovated. I suppose if there was a time when two princes and two princesses along with all of their bodyguards were living here, some of the accommodations had to be upgraded.
The upgrades include individual bedrooms and en suite bathrooms for everyone. I can’t even imagine with the first floor, where the living room, offices, and kitchen are located.
For now, I’m impressed enough with Cian’s bedroom.
It’s bigger than Ruby, Mariah, and my rooms put together. The bed is enormous. It has to be bigger than a standard king. The duvet is a silvery gray, and the pillows are a mix of white and grays. The thick plush carpet is also a dove gray while the walls are white with a dark gray trim. He leads me to an overstuffed armchair near the windows. The view is of the wooded area behind the house. It’s dark and the stars are twinkling above the tree line. He nudges me into the chair.
“Stay here. I’ll get the bath going.”
I immediately curl up into the cushy softness of the chair, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around my legs as I watch him cross the room to the door that obviously leads into the bathroom. I hear the sound of the water start in the tub and him moving around, opening and shutting cabinets.
He appears in the doorway a few minutes later. “I’m going down to Fiona’s old room to see if there’s any bubble bath.”
I grin at him. “It’s okay if there’s not.”
He comes toward me, leaning over, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair like he did at Ellie’s. “Let me go look. Hayden stayed in that room when she lived here too. There has to be something.”
I can’t help but reach out to him, taking his face between my hands. I pull him in for a quick kiss. “Who’s Hayden?”
“Colin’s wife.”
Colin was—still is sometimes? —Fiona and Saoirse’s bodyguard. I know he now works sometimes for Bennett Baxter, one of Louisiana’s senators and a member of the Landry family.
Cian gives me another kiss, then heads out the door.
I decide to save a little time and stand, stripping out of my clothes, then padding into the bathroom.
I stop in the doorway and take it in. It’s gorgeous. It’s almost as pretty as the bathroom at the hotel.
Dark gray tile covers the floor, the countertops are a lighter gray granite, and silver fixtures gleam in the soft light.
The tub is less a hot tub and more a Jacuzzi.
I grin as I approach it. Oh, this is definitely big enough for the two of us. Hell, we can invite guests.
I giggle. Not that I’m into that.
Sure enough there are water jets in various positions around the perimeter of the tub, and once we’re inside, the water will easily come up to my shoulders.
I reach over to test the water temperature and find it absolutely perfect. I want to slip into it now.
I hear the bedroom door open and close again as Cian comes into the bathroom, triumphantly holding up a bottle of pearly white liquid.
He stops, taking me in. “I was going to undress you.”
I tip my head. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
His gaze travels over me from head to toe and I feel my body heating and tingling as if he’s running his hands over me.
He comes forward, slowly. “There is absolutely nothing about you, inside or out, that is a disappointment, Glinda.”
I take the bottle from his hand, unscrew the top and tip the liquid into the filling tub. Immediately bubbles start to foam up. I set it to the side, then reach for the bottom of his shirt.
“I can undress you though,” I tell him. I slide my hands underneath the shirt, taking the fabric with me as I glide my palms over his abs, up to his chest.
He lifts his arms, and I get the shirt as far as I can before he has to tug it the rest of the way over his head because of the difference in our heights. He tosses it behind him. I smooth my hands over the bare skin exposed, tracing the tip of my finger over the lines of the tattoo of the elephant.
It still makes my heart beat faster that he got this tattoo.
He permanently inked a reminder of me on his body.
I lift my gaze to meet his as I slide the backs of my hands down his torso to the fly of his pants.
I unbutton and unzip him, watching his face.
He doesn’t move to help me or stop me. My fingers skate over his hard cock and my pussy clenches with anticipation.
But I am overcome by the urge to take this slow.
Things are always so hot between us. I can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on me. I want his words, his commands. I’ve accepted and gotten used to the idea that I can turn over my dirtiest desires to this man, and he will not only make all of my fantasies come true, but there is no judgment, and I am perfectly safe, not only with the things he will do to me, but I know he will keep my secrets.
But now, for maybe the first time, I don’t want hard and fast and dirty.
I want to… love him.
I step closer, pushing his jeans and boxers down his legs. I press a kiss to the center of his chest. Then another. Then another. I kiss across his chest, letting my hands wander over his hips around his ass up his back, then around to his sides.
He groans, one of his hands going to my lower back, the other cupping the back of my head. “Scarlett,” he says softly, his voice rough.
I move my mouth up to his throat, taking a deep breath, pulling in his scent. I kiss his neck, then his jaw. I tip my head back. “I need you.”
He swallows, then nods. I can tell that he also senses the shift in emotion.
He kisses me, and it’s deep, but it’s also sweet, and slow.
When he lifts his head, he just looks into my eyes for a long moment. Then he steps back, leans over, and gets rid of his clothes. Then he reaches for the hair clip I didn’t even notice on the edge of the tub. He reaches up, dragging his fingers through my hair, combing it out. Then he gathers it into a ponytail, twists it, then gathers it at the top of my head and clips it up out of the way.
Without a word, he takes my hand and helps me into the tub.
I sink into the warm, bubble filled water that smells like lavender and vanilla.
He steps over the side and joins me, taking a seat facing me.
We just look at each other.
I study his face, taking in every detail.
His beard has grown even further, and he’s not wearing the glasses, and he looks more like the guy I met nineteen months ago.
But more, he looks like the man I’ve gotten to know over the past week. I can’t believe it’s only been a week, but I feel closer to him than almost anyone.
Ruby is probably the only person who knows me better than Cian right now.
And despite all of my past experiences with loving and trusting and believing in people and having that shattered, I realize he’s gotten past all of that. He’s managed to heal the cracks that Eli put in my heart and has glued back together the pieces my father completely chipped away.
Cian thinks he loves me.
And for the first time, after this weekend, and sitting here now, looking at him, I believe not just that he thinks it, but that I deserve it.
There are things that are lovable about me. Things that someone could be proud of about me. Things that someone could want to learn more about. Things that someone could want to experience every day with me.
I may not be exactly where I want to be in becoming the person I want to see in the mirror, but I feel a lot closer to her than I have in a very long time.
“I really like you,” I tell him. Again.
“I know,” he says.
And it doesn’t sound egotistical. It doesn’t sound funny. It makes me happy. I’m very glad that he knows that. It means I’m doing better at letting people get close and showing them how I feel.
“I’m glad you came to Emerald to find me,” I tell him, moving closer to him.
“I know,” he says again.
And again, I’m glad that’s his answer. I want him to know that.
I float closer and I feel his hands reach out and circle my waist, pulling me in.
I straddle his lap and feel his cock nudge against me. “And I’m very glad you brought me here to New Orleans and Autre and introduced me to everyone. And told them who I really am.”
Our lips are only a few inches away.
“I know,” he says.
I’m so glad he knows all of that.
I lean in and put my mouth against his and say, “And now I would really like to make love to you.”
I feel his hands tighten on my waist.
“Fuck yes,” is his answer.
A little shiver goes through me, and I smile. One thing we haven’t done is put me in the driver’s seat when it comes to sex. He has absolutely taken over every time. And it has been everything I’ve wanted. I’ve needed it. Exploring what I like and want and need sexually has been amazing. Finding a man who is willing and able to figure out what I like, experiment with me, and has enjoyed it as much as I have has been amazing.
But it’s also really nice to feel bold and confident about it now. And to know that there are times when he’s very happy to follow my lead.
With my hands on his shoulders, I lift up, bringing one nipple to his mouth. “Suck on me.”
He gives a little groan, leans in and happily flicks his tongue over my nipple, before pulling it into his mouth.
Lightning streaks from that spot straight to my core. My pussy clenches and I let my head tip back, relishing the sensations rushing through me.
I reach between us, finding his cock and stroking up and down, ready to position him so I can sink down on him, already plenty wet and ready for him.
But his hand snakes between us and he cups my pussy. “Easy,” he tells me gruffly.
“I’m ready,” I say breathlessly. “Need you.”
“No need to rush,” he says easing a finger into me.
Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed. Like I am on the verge of tears, or coming, or laughing, or all of the above. I know it is the combination of being here with him on the heels of realizing I am falling in love.
The emotions are intense and I understand that I’m going to have to make decisions about the future very soon.
And I just want him. All of him. I want to be connected and filled up and to somehow show him that I am new because of him.
I lock my gaze on his. “I was going to be in charge.”
He moves his finger in and out. “You can have whatever you want from me. Always, Scarlett. I just want to be sure you’re ready to take me. I want it to always feel good. No pain. Just pleasure.”
The emotions surging are a combination of love and happiness, and also the need to show him how he’s helped me. I want him to know that I am bolder because of him. And that I fully trust him. And suddenly I know what I want to do.
I push back, slipping off his lap, his finger sliding out of my body.
He frowns. “Scarlett?—”
There’s something we haven’t done before. But I think we will both like it a lot.
I move back across the tub, not breaking eye contact.
“You’re right. I need to be ready to take that huge, amazing cock. Deep and hard.”
The heat in his eyes flares. “What are you?—”
I lift myself up on the edge of the tub. It’s plenty wide enough. The way the tub is set into the wall, it’s up against the window. It’s tinted so that if there was someone outside in those trees, they still couldn’t really see in, but it gives the illusion that we’re exposed. The ledge could easily hold dozens of candles, spa supplies, a wine bottle and glasses. So there’s plenty of room for me to sit.
I prop one foot up on the ledge, letting the other dangle in the water.
My body wet and glistening in the soft light, my legs spread open, I slide my hand down my stomach to my pussy.
“Just want to be sure I’m ready.”
His gaze is locked on my hand between my legs. His jaw is tight.
I glide my finger over my clit and suck in a little breath. This is hot not only because I’m touching myself, but because of the way he watches me. I really do feel like I’ve put a spell on him. I feel powerful.
“I think I need an orgasm before I ride you,” I tell him. “You always fuck me so deep, I need to be nice and wet and hot to take you.”
In the past, it has definitely been Cian who has done most of the talking. But I love the way he grips the edge of the tub, and the way his chest lifts and falls with his ragged breathing.
But he doesn’t move. He’s letting me do this. Take this control.
Oh, yes, having the power to affect this man is definitely addicting.
I circle over my clit, then slide my finger into my pussy. I usually use a vibrator, so I’m not as used to getting myself off with just my fingers, but I certainly know what feels good. And I can judge by Cian’s face how it’s going for him.
“Your fingers are thicker. I do like it better when you finger fuck me.” I add a finger.
“Jesus, Scarlett,” he grinds out.
“Are you okay?”
“Get that perfect pussy off so you can get over here and fuck me,” he says, the words bitten off.
Oh, that helps. I feel my pussy clench around my fingers.
I move them in and out, but it is hard to reach the spots that he gets to. I drag my fingers out and up to my clit, circling and pressing.
“Spread your legs wider,” he commands. “Spread your pussy so I can see.”
I should probably remind him that he’s not in charge, but I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t working for me.
I move the leg in the water to the side and use my other hand to spread myself open.
His breath hisses out and I feel my muscles clench in reaction.
“Work that pretty clit,” he says. “Make yourself come.”
I work my clit faster. I press a little harder. I feel the orgasm starting to tighten.
“I want to hear my name when you come,” he tells me.
I’m breathing fast, my gaze locked on his. I’ve never masturbated for another person. I’ve definitely pictured him while I’ve done it over the past year and a half, but having him actually watching me, clearly turned on, wanting this, is so much better.
His hand drops into the water, and I know that he’s fisting his cock.
“Come on, Scarlett,” he says. “Make that pussy hot and wet for me.”
I circle faster and lift my other hand to my breast, squeezing and tugging on the nipple.
“No,” he says sharply. “I want to see all that pink perfection. I want to see you wet. I want to see you dripping.”
“Need—” I pant. “My nipples.”
Then he’s pushing across the tub, the water sloshing, to brace his hands on either side of my hips.
“Keep. Going.” Then his mouth latches onto my nipple, sucking hard.
My orgasm crashes into me. “Cian!”
“Fuck.” He mutters as his hands grasp my hips and he pulls me off the ledge.
I’m in his lap and he positions me over his cock. “Gorgeous little witch,” he says gruffly as he pulls me down on his length.
He fills me up, stretching me as my orgasm is still rippling.
The sensation is incredible, and I swear my toes curl.
“Cian!”
“You are so fucking perfect,” he says, thrusting up into me.
I grip his shoulders, sliding up and down, riding him fast and hard.
My next orgasm is right on the heels of the first, and I come hard around him only a few minutes later.
His fingers dig into my hips deliciously. “Fuck, yes.”
Then he stiffens, shouting my name, filling me up.
I wrap my arms around him, pressing my face to his throat, and breathe.
This is all so good.
He is so good.
And I really do think I could do this— all of this—with this man for the rest of my life.