Chapter 16 Deirdre
Deirdre
“When wit, and wine, and friends have met and laughter crowns the festive hour.” Edgar Allan Poe
Ilie curled in Kieran’s lap, his fingers stroking slow, comforting circles along my spine. My body still buzzes, raw and over-sensitized, but there’s a peace in me I haven’t felt in weeks. It fills the corners where fear once lived.
We cling to each other, reveling in the feeling of our skin pressed together.
He gently presses a kiss to my temple and scoots me off his lap.
Still naked, he walks over to a small nightstand and pulls out a clean, warm cloth from a small white machine.
It reminds me of something you would see at a nail salon.
He turns around to walk back to the bed, and I stare at him in all his glory, completely unashamed.
“Enjoy the view, Miss Ravencroft?” His voice is playful, something I haven’t heard in weeks. He’s been on edge ever since I woke up. So much so that he seemed like he was becoming a different person, like he was a world away.
I crawl up to my knees as he approaches me.
“Oh, absolutely, Professor. Are we done already?”
I look up from underneath my eyelashes, running my nails up his thighs, and lightly wrap my hand around his cock. He tenses under my touch, and in turn, I pull my hand away, attempting to hide my disappointment.
“Patience, Deirdre.”
Deirdre. He’s pulled himself out of our dynamic, but as always, he’s still taking care of me and protecting me.
He begins to run the warm towel down my breasts and stomach, dabbing the wax from my skin. His voice murmurs low affirmations against my ear, as he gently peels some of the pieces off.
But the further we come down, the more I start to notice something else.
Him.
His body is still tense. His muscles haven’t relaxed, and without looking like a pathetic puppy dog, I try desperately not to stare at his semi-erect cock that is within inches of my body.
I could just wrap my mouth around it.
Instead of letting my thoughts take over, I shift on the bed, peering up at him. “You didn’t…”
He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “You were the focus tonight.”
“I know…” I pause, trailing a hand across his chest. “But…are you okay?”
His gaze darkens, but his voice stays soft. “I’m fine, Deirdre.”
“But you didn’t…”
“Deirdre,” he says gently, cupping my face. “We don’t have to rush. It’s not about me. It never was.”
I search his eyes, the way they burn with restraint and something deeper. A hunger he’s still holding back. Maybe for me. Maybe because of me.
I nod, kissing his palm. “Okay.”
He presses his lips to my forehead and holds me for another moment, and then helps me dress again—tender, slow, careful. Once I’m in my skirt and sweater again, he gets dressed, and we leave our room behind and step into the pulse of Salvation.
The music thrums low through the walls, a sultry vibe that pulses like a second heartbeat beneath my skin.
Kieran’s hand rests firmly on the small of my back as we step into the lounge area of Salvation.
The scent of cigar smoke and bourbon lingers in the air, mingling with the faint perfume of candles and worn leather.
It feels like stepping back into another life—only this time, everything is different.
I’m different.
Gabe is behind the bar, shaking a cocktail with a flourish, flashing his pearly whites at a few of the female clientele, while Claire is aggressively slicing limes with a serrated bar knife and plopping them into the fruit tray.
Gabe throws a wink in her direction, to which she rolls her eyes.
I chuckle to myself, amused that she is letting her jealousy show.
Vincent’s near the VIP lounge, clipboard in hand, giving orders in that booming voice of his, and sipping what I’m 99% sure is just cranberry juice, but seeing the look of fear on a few of the newer bouncers’ faces, he may be pretending it’s their blood.
Claire’s eyes find mine when we emerge from the VIP hallway, walking over to the bar.
“Look what the storm dragged in,” she grins, eyes flicking over me, then narrowing with wicked mischief. “You happy to see me, or is that just post-kink glow?”
“Claire,” I hiss under my breath, cheeks flaming. She just laughs.
Vincent walks over, eyeing us both and arching a brow. Placing his clipboard on the bar, he asks, knowingly, “So, how does the new room seven measure up?”
Kieran slides onto a barstool and pulls me between his legs, arms braced on my hips. “It’s exactly what it needed to be.”
“Wholesome depravity,” Gabe gives a hearty laugh, sliding a glass down the bar toward Kieran. “You two back in sync now?”
“Working on it,” I answer for him, but as amazing as our moment earlier was, and needed I might add, he wasn’t fully present with me. I need him to let go of whatever dark demon he is holding onto.
I know part of him is still holding back because he feels like he will hurt me. His hesitation is going to drive me insane.
It’s okay, Professor, I love a good challenge.
“They missed your attitude back here,” Claire says as she walks around the bar, hopping up beside me. “Not the endless shot orders or broken glass, but definitely the chaos of you snapping at drunks.”
“You’ll have both by tomorrow night,” I joke. “I’m already building a list of rude customers I’m sending to Vincent to kick out.”
Vincent smirks. “I welcome it, D.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief. I am so ready to get back to the chaos of work and attending classes like everything is back to normal.
And now, I get to do all of that with my best friend and the one man who has made me feel alive again, by my side.
Claire smiles as if she can sense my excitement.
The banter between my small group of friends, now turned family, makes it easier to breathe. Laughter fills the gaps where silence used to sit heavy. I love this place. These people. But my body…my body still wants him.
And I know he still wants me.
I turn toward him, inching between his legs. I rest a hand on his thigh, pretending like I’m just adjusting my stance—but I know exactly what I’m doing. His breath hitches, just slightly, and it gives me a wicked sense of power. His gaze sharpens instantly, following the movement, his jaw tight.
“You didn’t let me return the favor earlier,” I murmur just low enough for him to hear. “Are you still hard for me, Professor?”
His nostrils flare. His hands flex on my hips.
“Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warns, voice low, only for me.
I lean in close to his ear, letting my lips barely graze his skin. “I am ready, so maybe you should stop denying both of us.”
I rock forward just slightly, enough to press against him. He is definitely still hard.
He tenses. I can feel it in the way his muscles coil beneath his clothes. I know he’s fighting himself—worried, always worried, about hurting me. About rushing. About being too much. But I’m not fragile. Not anymore.
“Kiss me,” I whisper. “Let me make you forget every reason you’ve been holding back.”
“Deirdre,” he warns, low, strained.
“What if I need it?” I press, sliding my hands beneath the hem of his shirt, palms against his skin. “What if I need you to remind me that I belong to you…fully. That I’m still yours.”
His fingertips dig deep into my skin.
Then I lean in, right at his ear, and add with a seductive tone, “Unless you’re having second thoughts.”
That does it.
Kieran rises, towering over me in an instant.
His eyes are dark, thunderous, and locked onto mine with a heat that scorches straight through my core.
He stands so fast his barstool scrapes back hard against the floor.
He doesn’t say a word. He grabs my hand, and I barely have time to laugh before he’s dragging me back toward the hallway—his pace urgent, possessive.
Claire gasps and jumps out of the way, trying to avoid spilling the drink tray she is holding. “Looks like the upgrades are a success.”
Gabe just whistles.
Vincent almost looks pleased. “There he is.”
Kieran’s voice is low, tight, and full of heat. “You want to see second thoughts, Miss Ravencroft? I’ll show you my thoughts.”
“That didn’t take long,” Claire laughs behind us.
“Use protection!” Gabe calls, joking like a sixteen-year-old boy.
Their voices and laughter fade the closer we get to the VIP hallway.
Like a bull in a china cabinet, Kieran barges through the VIP curtains, passing the security and the people standing in the lounge.
By the time we reach our room again, I can see the heat in his eyes as his chest heaves with each breath.
Kieran unlocks the door, pushes me inside, and slams the door to room seven behind us without looking back.
This time, there’s no teasing.
Only heat and fire taking over him. Only need in his eyes.
Only us.