Chapter 13
RHIANNON, PUNISHMENTS & PHTALO GREEN DOORS
Rhiannon’s heart beat in her ears, loud, deafening, refusing to allow her to think clearly. One minute she was watching the ocean devour the last rays of the sun, and the next she was running, heels and all, toward Prudence’s studio above Book Nest.
Her palms were ice cold, a cold that had nothing to do with the evening chill and everything with a tall brunette putting hands on her—
Stop it, Prudence is nothing to you!
Goddess, she was losing her mind. She was slowly losing what was left of her mind.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the image of Prudence being accosted.
Those gray eyes held so much fear. Could Prudence have shaken this woman free?
Probably? Maybe, even possibly, considering that she did have the gift.
It was only a matter of time before she’d have freed herself had Rhiannon not showed up.
Probably? Possibly? Rhiannon closed her eyes and leaned on the counter in front of her. She couldn’t believe the things running through her head. Prudence was almost hurt, and she had been barely in time. She bit her lip, hard, tasting the coppery tang, letting it center her, ground her.
Her blood sang in her veins, a dangerous song.
One that became even more dangerous as a duet once Prudence’s hands encircled her from behind, pulling her back flush to her own front.
Soft lips nuzzled her nape and the voice whispered snippets of words that could have been apologies.
Rhiannon squeezed her eyes harder, her entire body going rigid.
Perhaps feeling her apprehension, the arms relaxed and fell away, and Rhiannon felt tears threaten. What was this about this woman? Did fate have to throw her in Rhiannon’s path now that she was hardly alive, clawing her way out of the grave of grief and guilt?
So what was a little more guilt on top of a lifetime of it?
Rhiannon shuddered at the thought of what she could’ve done.
What she almost had done. What her craft, despite the spell, had almost wrought.
The power in her supplied the visions of blood and death, of the ways she could’ve handled Lisa…
Her power had come so close to doing just that, to breaking free.
Goddess, she had done this once before, the vision of that man on his knees cradling his bleeding hip so vivid.
The memory of her mother’s voice, teaching the craft, whispering about its healing and its life-giving, about never using it to harm, and then of her mother gasping in shock at seeing Rhiannon’s handiwork that day…
Guilt, she had been swimming in it then, nurtured it in her rib cage for decades, and was choking on it now.
No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to stop the craft, it always bested her.
A movement made her blink, and then Prudence leaned closer and dropped her head on Rhiannon’s shoulder but didn’t touch her anywhere else.
Rhiannon trembled. She told herself it was anger on the heels of guilt.
It was rage. Yes, definitely rage. It could be nothing else, even as Pru’s lips kissed the skin closest to her mouth.
“I can’t stand seeing her hands on you.”
Rhiannon couldn’t recognize her own voice. The low, shivery quality it took. And the tense of the verb surely was wrong. It should be couldn’t stand because it was over. The hands were no longer there and yet… It felt very much still in the present.
“She’s gone.” Pru placed another kiss, a longer one. Rhiannon felt the edge of teeth, sharp, teasing.
“I can’t stand anyone’s hands on you.”
Her answer was a long lick, from the shoulder all the way to her ear and then down the side of the neck where the lips latched, and as suddenly as they did, the teeth bit. Roughly, hungrily.
“Nobody puts hands on me, Rhiannon. Unless it’s you. Are you going to put your hands on me?”
Rhiannon felt herself go limp, Prudence holding her in place, her bite leaving a mark. The pain of it, the tiny little punishment, made Rhiannon’s head spin, made her close her thighs, desperate for friction.
Yes, do it, do it again…
Pru’s bite turned back to a kiss as her tongue soothed the bruised spot.
“Do you know that I think you’ve unlocked a new kink in me, Rhiannon?”
Rhiannon, too busy getting thoroughly debauched by the tongue doing wonderful things to her neck, barely heard her. Except the last words got her attention.
“Did I?”
Prudence ran her hand up and down her back, and then in one smooth move pushed her down till she was bent over the breakfast bar.
Rhiannon almost choked on air at how turned on one move made her.
She whimpered and got a small chuckle from Prudence, who kept touching her shoulders, back, lower, stopping just shy of her ass.
A short falter, a silent question that warranted a nod from Rhiannon and the hands moved lower still.
She felt her skirt getting pulled up, slowly, too slowly, agonizingly slow.
Rhiannon trembled and sucked her lip, splitting it open again.
The blood did nothing to soothe her this time.
The fire in her veins would not be soothed anyway.
She needed this. She wanted this. And she deserved this.
This and more, for what she almost did, for what she had wanted to do, for what she still could do, if her control was to slip…
“You did unlock a new kink, Rhiannon.” Pru’s voice sounded right by her ear, the breath coming hot and tantalizing. So close. So close.
Rhiannon finally felt her skirt lifted all the way up, the cool air of the room making her feel exposed. She should be ashamed, bent over the counter as she was, skirt up, her thong wet.
Except she cared very little about shame at this very moment. She cared about very few things. One of them being Pru’s palm moving up her naked thigh and up her ass cheek, caressing, squeezing gently, then more firmly.
Rhiannon moaned, and in the silence of the room it felt indecent, it felt depraved. She was an abraded nerve, raw and alive. She needed… She wanted. Prudence squeezed again.
“Use your words, Rhiannon.”
Oh Goddess… Please… Please…
“Please, Prudence.”
The palm lifted and landed with a resounding slap.
It didn’t hurt. The noise was louder than the sensation, but Rhiannon felt herself flood.
She arched her back. She knew the gates of hell could open right now and she would regret nothing at all.
Decadent, glorious. This wasn’t the punishment she deserved, it felt too good, and she wasn’t worthy, and yet… It was everything she had ever wanted.
Prudence’s palm landed again, the smack a touch harder, making Rhiannon moan.
“Are you ok—”
“Yes!” Rhiannon almost screamed. “Yes, yes, please!”
The third slap was absolution. No punishment but release. Forgiveness. Wasn’t this what she had been seeking? For losing control? Now and years ago? If she wasn’t so far gone, Rhiannon would find it unhealthy. Unhealthy yet symbolic. And she couldn’t muster a sliver of care.
Her skin burned, her breath was ragged, she was certain her lip was bleeding. She probably looked a sight. Rhiannon didn’t give a damn. This was bliss. This was all she had wanted, seemingly forever. And then from the corner of her eye she saw Prudence kneeling and lost all ability to reason.
Prudence’s lips gently caressed the still burning cheek, soothing, absolving, forgiving.
For what, she didn’t think Prudence herself knew.
Surely Rhiannon had sins aplenty. She was Rhiannon Crowhart, after all—sin was with her since the day she was born, but Prudence had no way of knowing…
No way of unlocking her like this… Exposing all her faults…
But somehow that mouth on her, kissing, soothing, was erasing them all one by one.
Rhiannon knew she had never experienced anything as erotic, and then Prudence moved the drenched lace aside and ran her finger from clit to her opening before spreading Rhiannon’s legs wider from behind and settling between them.
Rhiannon held her breath. When Pru’s tongue delved into her, no preambles, no preparation, no warning this time, just lapping her essence from the source, making those indecent noises as if she was sampling something delectable.
“Mmmm, Rhiannon… So sweet. So good.”
She clenched around nothing and almost screamed. If only she could have something… Something…
But Pru gave her nothing, just kept licking, kept lapping at her opening, all the while fondling her cheeks, squeezing, caressing. She laid her face on the cool marble of the countertop and squeezed her eyes harder. She’d not survive this. She wouldn’t…
Strong hands turned her around, back against the counter, and the sight of Prudence on her knees in front of her yet somehow not subdued, not submitting but taking charge, being so thoroughly in control, Rhiannon might’ve been the one kneeling.
Prudence’s smile was all indulgence. She licked her lip and Rhiannon felt the gesture in her core. She knew what was coming. Or who…
Pru leaned in, nosing in the hair at the apex of Rhiannon’s thighs, and inhaled. Rhiannon’s knees, already carrying the impossible load, buckled. Pru laughed and pinned her to the counter, holding her up. And then she devoured.
Pru’s lips wrapped around her clit even as what felt like two fingers pierced her opening, and Rhiannon screamed.
It was feral, but the sensations were too much, and she bit her forearm to try to keep herself quiet.
“I think the whole of Crow’s Nest knows what is being done to you right now, Rhiannon. Everyone knows how well you’re being fucked. And you are. Look at you drip down my hand. So sweet, so good, so beautiful. Drenched for me.”
Rhiannon felt Pru kiss her thigh, wet mouth leaving a trail. Pru’s fingers pumped in and out at a steady pace, periodically hooking upward, touching her at her very center, teasing her. She breathed through her nose, her own teeth leaving bruises on her skin.