Chapter 13 #2
“I watched you take down Lisa and I wanted to fuck you right there, as you stood and manhandled her like she was nothing and you were a queen. And she was. Nothing. And you are. A queen. You taste like one. Do you know?” As if to emphasize her own words, Prudence’s mouth returned to her clit and sucked hard.
Rhiannon’s vision wavered at the corners and yet Prudence went on as she once again nuzzled her thigh, fingers moving faster now, the strokes becoming harder, each one aiming for the one spot that was driving Rhiannon closer to the edge.
“You should know. You taste amazing, rich and sweet and tangy and fresh, like the wind. Every note is different. I can’t get enough of you.”
Rhiannon hissed. Pru had done and said everything right… Until now. She felt herself grow rigid, grow distracted.
A smack came out of nowhere, and she keened, feeling herself drench Pru’s hand. How did she know? Oh, Goddess how did she know? How did she know all her desires, all her fantasies?
Pru bit her thigh not too gently.
“You will take what I give you tonight, Rhiannon. It’s only your own fault, after all. Beautiful and regal, taking down someone twice your size, defending me. I wanted to take you apart then and there. I wouldn’t even care who was watching. You were everything.”
Rhiannon felt her tears spill as Pru’s lips wrapped around her clit once again with purpose, and within seconds she was coming, wordless, soundless.
She returned back to herself, to the feeling of Pru’s hands touching her, caressing her, cleaning her up. Soft washcloth, softer kisses, kinder words.
Rhiannon did not straighten. She had no idea how she’d face this woman who looked like a church mouse in those oversized cardigans of hers, whose wild, rebellious flyaways framed a face that belonged on a Botticelli painting and who fucked like her life depended on it.
As if she was born to make Rhiannon come apart only to be built back together by skilled hands and gentle mouth.
A mouth that couldn’t utter a swear word in the light of day, that said “heck” in the most adorable of ways and stumbled over anything spicier, and who apparently was exceedingly and masterfully fluent in dirty talk.
Just remembering the words made Rhiannon want to bite her lip and taste them.
Rhiannon shivered, then exhaled. She’d allow herself a few more seconds before she faced the reality that she had no idea who Prudence Fowler was.
Except even now the woman kept surprising her, because as she set Rhiannon’s clothes to rights and put a glass of water and a pack of wet wipes next to her, Prudence was gone, the sound of the door closing behind her all the warning Rhiannon got of being left alone.
That and a quietly murmured, “Thank you, Rhiannon.”
Polite and distant. Like the woman in the bookstore’s window who watched her for weeks. And so unlike the one who fucked the living daylights out of her. Who was Prudence Fowler? And why would she flee her own home after an encounter like that? What had Rhiannon gotten herself into?
Those were, of course, valid questions, but Rhiannon had a more pressing one that not even the haze of an amazing orgasm could erase. And she needed her sister, of all people, to answer it for her.
She parked her car on the shoulder of the empty road and took a deep breath. She needed many of these breaths to face her sister and to have the conversation she was about to have. So she took her time and counted to ten as her phone lit up in her hand.
“The handwriting is familiar, I’m looking into some things, kiddo. Everything will come up spades, you’ll see.”
Rhiannon’s shoulders drooped with a sigh. Christian always came through for her. She hoped he would do so this time in particular. The burn the note left on her fingers felt personal, the hate there too strong.
Rhiannon laid her forehead on the steering wheel and counted to ten.
Her heart was still hammering in her ears, her ass cheeks burned with the memory of the slaps, and her thighs kept trembling from the strength of the orgasm.
And her guilt? Well, the punishment did nothing to allay it. She’d enjoyed said punishment too much.
It was time to ask her sister for a favor.
And she needed all her wits about her for it.
When she knocked on Ceridwen’s ornate phthalo green door—because of course the empress of greenery would have a goddamn trendy color for her front entrance—Rhiannon realized she perhaps should’ve taken a bit more time to think before she came to here. And maybe to clean up a touch better.
Ceridwen opened her door in a set of jade pajamas—Rhiannon almost rolled her eyes at the cliché the oldest Crowhart was becoming—took one look, and gaped.
“Ran out of hot water at your apartment, Rhiannon? Surely a shower would’ve been the first thing you’d install in that shack of yours if you envisioned sex as your Tuesday night activity.”
Instead of bristling, Rhiannon held back a self-satisfied grin.
Some things hadn’t changed. And her sister was still a bit of a prude.
Good. Rhiannon had twisted the knife plenty in their teenage years.
She always had more girlfriends and boyfriends, being unencumbered by a particular type of sensibility that Ceridwen wore on her sleeve.
Rhiannon had no compulsions to keep any of her conquests from Ceridwen.
And while she had flaunted them in her poor sister’s face then, this time was different.
“Are you finished with your insults?”
Ceridwen pursed her lips and stepped aside, letting her in.
This had been their “distant second cousin three or four times removed” cottage, far enough from their house to have privacy and not too far as to take a long time to get there.
Rhiannon remembered that it was supposed to be hers, since by tradition Ceridwen, as the oldest daughter, was meant to remain in their mother’s house.
“Guess things changed.” Rhiannon didn’t bother explaining herself, just gestured around the cozy living room Ceridwen showed her into.
“You weren’t here and you made it very clear you wanted nothing and were not coming back.
Seren wanted the Crowhart stones much more than I ever did, so I let her have the house.
As for this one? Would you have preferred me to have let it fall to ruin?
” Ceridwen’s voice held a lot of resentment, and Rhiannon felt an unexpected pang of her heart.
She didn’t come here to reopen wounds. Nor did she come to antagonize her sister.
Their issues ran deeper than an old home.
“No, there has been too much ruin as is. I don’t care about the cottage. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Ceridwen’s eyes widened.
“What do you want, Rhiannon? Because surely you’re not here to apologize about some house when that is the—”
“Yes, yes, that is the least of our problems. And that’s true, hence the apology which you can take or leave, by the way.
” Her sister’s snootiness was always where their conversations turned sour back then, and Rhiannon felt it would not be much different now.
If only Ceridwen were less prissy about every little thing.
“No, no, go on.”
Rhiannon took a breath, then another. And then forged ahead.
“You’re teaching Prudence the craft. Have you talked to her about how to use it to…hurt?”
Ceridwen jumped to her feet.
“You’ve lost your mind, Rhiannon!”
“Oh, can the outrage, Ceri. I walked in on her being manhandled by some tall, dark, and probably imagining herself handsome. In her own home! So let me ask you again. What are you teaching her that would have been useful to her in that particular situation?”
Ceridwen sat down, and Rhiannon couldn’t help but notice that this time her sister was much closer.
“Lisa is back, I take it?”
“I didn’t catch her name as she bolted out the door.”
“You didn’t!”
“I didn’t what? Slap her around with magic? You mean like before?”
It was Rhiannon’s turn to raise her eyebrow at Ceridwen. She was particularly proud that hers was a superior eyebrow lift. Definitely.
After a beat, Ceridwen exhaled.
“No, I don’t believe you did.”
Rhiannon had to laugh. If their past was any indication, they both knew she was by far less scrupulous than Ceridwen.
Still, she’d keep to herself how close she’d come, how much she had wanted it, and how only by some miracle she didn’t. She had been so very close, so close she could taste the blood and the pain she had almost caused. And she wanted to cause it. Too much.
But the question and the concern in her sister’s eyes were so real, so warm, Rhiannon felt she owed her at least a partial answer.
“I didn’t. Not because I have your moral compass, sister.
We’re both aware I am not encumbered by one.
Still, I didn’t use it. I can’t, Ceri. Don’t ask me why.
But know that I can’t use it. It hurts and it’s eating me from inside, so you can tell Vicky she’s partially right.
But also, she can stuff it. Just because. ”
They both smiled, and Ceridwen covered her hand with hers.
“Will you tell me why? Someday?”
“Maybe. Maybe when there is no gaping chasm between us. When you are my big sister again. Maybe then.”
Ceridwen nodded but did not remove her hand, and Rhiannon respected that she felt nothing but body heat in her sister’s touch.
“So you fucked Lisa up?”
Rhiannon started at the language her prim and proper sister almost never used and then laughed.
“She did run away, Ceri. So I did, as you so nicely put it, fuck her up. But what if I hadn’t been there?”
“And why were you there, Rhiannon?”
Fucking sneaky witch. First Seren, now Ceridwen. An entirely family of sneaky witches!
No matter how many times Rhiannon felt she had gotten something past her sister, Ceridwen always came back with a reply that would undo her scheming.
Rhiannon sighed.