23. The Gift of Trust
Chapter twenty-three
The Gift of Trust
Kara
"The chislers really enjoyed their gifts." Mick unbuttons his black dress shirt.
I watch as enthralled by the revelation of his inked and muscled chest today as I was at the age of 18 and I saw him undressed for the first time on our wedding night. So, it takes a second to take in Mick's words.
Then I smile. "Yeah. They did."
We figured out that "another one" for Sorcha was a miniature gnome to go with the others living in the little house she's made for them under her bed.
She had nine and it wasn't a round number.
Now, she has ten. And a new super soft cuddle blanket for when she's feeling overstimulated and needs time alone.
Mavie now has a mermaid tail for swimming and her own cuddle blanket made into one for snuggle time on the sofa.
"They're all really excited about going to Disneyland," I remark, abstractedly as Mick steps out of his trousers. My husband has a fine, fine body. "Even Fitz."
Coming only a few days after Cormac's fourth birthday, our little family's personal Christmas in July celebration was a complete success. It feels like the culmination of so many things our family has become.
An affirmation that our family can be different than the families Mick and I were raised in. We will never treat any of our children differently just because they respond differently to us. Or because one is the heir to a mob throne and the others are not.
Me and my sociopath love them all.
As powerfully as we love each other, if in a very different way. Although I am not convinced that Mick isn't every bit as protective of me as he is of our children, even though I'm the wife that stands at his side.
Never a step behind him.
It's that protectiveness that makes my final gift for Mick both possible and necessary.
"I have one last gift for you." The small blue pill clutched in my hand carries the weight of painful memories buoyed by the love I share with this man.
Even a year ago, I couldn't have made the offer I'm about to. And I'm pretty sure that Mick wouldn't have expected it.
But it's time to let go of the remnants of the past still clinging to our life together.
A cauldron of emotion bubbles inside me seasoned with hope, excitement and trepidation.
My heart races and I have to concentrate on my breathing so I don't start panting. That's nothing new in this bedroom with my husband's now naked body in front of me.
Only, there's as much fear as anticipation bubbling in my veins like champagne.
What if he doesn't really want this? What if he won't be okay with it because he's still worried about my mental health? I mean, the man is always going to worry about me. He says his heart doesn't beat without me.
Once, I would have dismissed that as fanciful.
I don't anymore.
I'm that necessary to the man who is the very air that I breathe too.
Tonight is about more than me showing my trust for my husband. It's about Mick confirming his trust in me and the woman I have become. Him accepting the gift I want to give him acknowledges the things I have overcome. Not just learned to live with, but moved beyond.
What if he doesn't think I've come as far as I have? Where is that thought even coming from?
Why am I so scared there's terror sweat trickling down the center of my back?
Because everything we built together in this marriage of ours, the one in which my sociopath loves me and I love him as he is, not the charming Irish mask he puts on for the rest of the world. It's not real if he doesn't trust me to give him this gift.
If he balks at me taking the pill in my hand then how real is any of that?
"Are you wearing my present?" Mick's fiery gaze heats the air between us.
I could drop the pill to the carpet and play it off as if the sheer red bustier and thong I'm wearing under my Christmas green dress are the present and not window dressing for it.
But that would be shortchanging both Mick and myself.
If I really trust him, I have nothing to worry about. If he is the man I believe him to be, I have nothing to fear. Not rejection of my gift, not even hesitation in accepting it.
Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, I open my palm and offer the blue pill to Mick.
He looks down and sees what I'm holding. Then, his eyes flick to my face, no expression showing on his. "What is that, Kara?"
"It's a…" I have to clear my throat. "It's a sleeping pill."
"You want me to take a sleeping pill?" He doesn't look upset. Well, he doesn't look anything, but then he gives me a sexy leer. "Is this your version of the blood pressure meds your mamo gave you in your wedding box? Are you hinting that my marital attentions are too vigorous?"
A laugh bursts out of me at the ludicrousness of that idea. We both know how very much I love his marital attentions. All the anxiety at what his response will be to my gift drains out of me as happiness starts to burble inside me along with my amusement.
"It's for me." I take a step closer to him, inhaling the scent that is only Mick. Safety. Lust. Love. Everything I need. "You want to ravish my body while I sleep and I want you to do that."
His nostrils flare and suddenly there's an extra spice in the air between us. Mick's arousal.
I smile, knowing I've got him. He wants this. "It's something you fantasize about and you have given me every fantasy I ever had."
"You are my fantasy, Kara. It doesn't matter what we do in bed together. You are my fantasy."
"I believe you." And I do. If I didn't, I'm not sure I would be offering what I am. "But I want to give you this."
"You want to take a sleeping pill, so you don't wake up while I'm ravishing you." The devil's smile he gives me sends heat zinging straight to my core.
He doesn't look worried. He doesn't look like I'm offering him poison. He looks amused and intrigued and yep, definitely turned on.
"Yes. There was a day when I wanted to turn everything off. You found me, Michael. You saved me. But I'm not that woman anymore and I have nothing to fear from a sleeping pill. You have nothing to fear from me taking a sleeping pill."
"You don't need sleeping pills to sleep, though mo chiste is a stór."
"No. I do not. Between you and our children I am plenty exhausted at the end of the day and ready to sleep." I used to go to sleep long before Mick and he would always wake me up when he came in from work.
He doesn't work so late anymore. We have dinner with the family and spend most of our evenings with our children. Sometimes one or both of us has to work in the evenings, but it's very rare.
So, we go to bed together. A lot of times we make love before we go to sleep, but if we don't, my insatiable husband still wakes me up in the middle of the night and connects our souls while our bodies join.
"This isn't about me needing to sleep. It's about trust. Me, trusting you and you trusting me."
His brow rises in question. "How is it about me trusting you?"
"First, you trust me to take a sleeping pill and you believe that I found the right one with the right dosage and that nothing bad will happen to me because I take it.
Second, you trust me enough to touch me in the ways that you want to while I'm sleeping and know that because I have said that is what I want, it is what I want. "
Understanding dawns in Mick's gorgeous, emerald eyes. "It is about me trusting you. And I do Kara. With everything in me."
"I know."
"And you trust me. Even knowing the man without a conscience that lives in my brain, you trust yourself to be completely at my mercy."
It’s not a question. Mick knows I trust him this way.
"You say I’m your conscience. I’m not sure I believe that. I think at least when it comes to me and our children you have a built-in conscience. You always want what’s best for us. You would never do anything to me while I was unconscious that you wouldn’t do to me conscious."
"But when you’re conscious, you can safe word."
"Your need to protect and care for me is my safe word, Michael. I know you would never take this too far.
"You’re right. I won’t. The trust you put in me when you allow me to handcuff you to the bed is more of a gift than a man like me deserves."
"That’s not true. You are the best man I know. The world is full of monsters, but you’re a monster who has never, and will never prey on the innocent." He’s my gargoyle and I love him exactly as he is.
Mick still has moments even around me when there is no emotion in him at all. No compassion, regret or concern for his actions. Mick will do whatever it takes as long as it keeps me and the children safe and keeps our mob strong so he can keep us even safer.
What I have come to understand is that I will do the same.
Love can be more ruthless than anything spurred on by hatred.
"Being completely at your mercy is the safest place I'll ever be."
"It is," Mick promises as he takes the blue pill from me. "How long until it takes effect?"
"According to the doctor, I should start feeling sleepy in about thirty minutes. Once I go to sleep, it should keep me asleep…even if my partner does a lot of tossing and turning in the bed."
Mick grins. "That's what you told her? I'm a restless sleeper."
"No one would expect anything different from a man in your position." Though they'd be wrong.
Mick wakes easily when roused, even in the middle of the night, but he sleeps easily and deeply, no matter what's going on in our lives.
I wonder if that's a result of the ASPD?
"Thirty minutes should be enough time." Mick walks toward the mini fridge disguised as a cabinet complimentary in style to our old world, polished mahogany bedroom set.
His mouthwatering erection bobs with each step, pre-ejaculate already beaded on the bulbous tip.
"Enough time for what?"
"To feed you my cock like the good girl you are."
A deep whump of desire pulses through me and I drop to my knees. "Yes, please."
"Take off your dress."