Chapter 14 #2
She came again and had to lean into him, teeth biting into his left shoulder as her body jerked and spasmed.
The bite was painful, spurring on a pleasure that had his body plunging into hers forcefully.
With a feral snarl, he shifted so that she was under him.
"Hold on." He warned thickly. Gripping her hips, he drove into her eyes holding hers. Dipping his head, he seized her lips in a kiss that had her melting.
She came again, surprise widening her eyes and had her clinging to him as her body exploded.
He joined her, his body shuddering, the climax ripping through him like claws. He poured himself into her, fingers digging into her hips as he plummeted and kept on driving until he was completely empty.
It was several minutes before he was able to move. And even then, he had to force himself to push off her. Cradling her, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the valley of her breasts.
Inhaling the scent of her moist skin, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
"I can't feel my legs." He muttered.
"I think I've gone blind." She responded, making him laugh.
Lifting his head, he checked. "I think it's probably because your eyes are closed."
She opened them and smiled at him. "You could be right." Lifting a hand, she brushed the thick wave of hair off his forehead.
He grinned, capturing her hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. For a moment, they simply lay together in the hazy afterglow, hearts still beating in tandem. Softness lingered in the air between them, an unspoken connection drawing them even closer.
"Think we were missed at the pub?"
"I do believe we made quite a spectacle of ourselves on the dancefloor and when you dragged me out of there."
"I didn't drag you. Did I?"
"All you needed was a club and throwing me over your shoulder." She linked her hands around his neck.
"I thought of it." He pressed a kiss to her bruised lips. "Did I hurt you? I was pretty rough." Concern sounded in his voice.
"Please don't start. I'm fine. I bit you." Her fingers passed over the marks made by her teeth in wonder. "God, I felt like an animal out of control."
"I liked it." Taking her hand, he pressed his lips to her palm. "You were pretty aggressive, shows how much you wanted my magnificent body." He grinned at the dark look she gave him.
"Who is Catherine McKenzie?"
The question was so sudden and unexpected, it threw him for a second.
"Huh?" he asked, blinking at her.
"Catherine McKenzie. Blonde, big breasted, like a milk maiden.
The woman staring at you soulfully while we were in the pub.
The same one you were having a conversation with while you were building pints.
" She gave him a cool look. "And before you think of coming up with a story, please know that people were saying that you were involved. "
He cleared his throat and tried to ease away, but she held on.
"I was just going to use the bathroom."
"It can wait. Why didn't you tell me about her?"
He shifted a little restlessly. "That's because there's nothing to tell." He sighed as she continued to stare at him.
"All right. Look, she was someone from my childhood. We used to see each other when I would come over for holidays. She was my first and I was hers. As kids, we had this insane idea that we would end up together."
"How long did the relationship last?" She had no idea why she should feel so insecure about a woman from his past, but she did. And to hear she had been his first, made it even worse.
"Two years. When I turned eighteen, I started college and stayed in the states more." He had no idea why he felt uncomfortable discussing this with her, but he did. He had broken Catherine's heart back then and had no idea the woman was still hung up on him.
"I did not come back here every summer, but went to different places where we had other pubs. I was learning the business from the inside out and was required to travel to different locations. I outgrew her."
"I see."
"What?" irritation coated his voice as guilt assailed him. "I had a past before I met you and I'm pretty sure you had one as well. I never asked you about the men you've been with, because it does not matter."
"There have been two and you made quite a stink when one of them called me while we were having dinner." She reminded him coolly. "And I have no idea why you're getting so defensive."
"She was a former lover. That's it. Nothing more. I cannot believe you're jealous over a woman who means absolutely nothing to me."
"She was looking at you as if you're the only man in the world. And the conversation you were having with her, looked very intimate."
His irritation grew. "It was just a normal conversation.
She's divorced and..." he shrugged restlessly.
"We were just catching up. She had been away for several years, and I never saw her for a while.
She moved to France to pursue a singing career and be with her husband. Now she's divorced and back home."
"That's quite a lot of details. You did not introduce me to your wife. Was that deliberate, I wonder."
He sent her a fulminating look before easing away.
"Where are you going?"
"To the bloody bathroom, my bladder is filled to bursting." Swinging his legs off the bed, he stalked towards the room and slammed the door for good measure.
Rolling her eyes, she pulled the quilt over her and wondered why she was so dead set on prolonging the conversation. She was so used to him having eyes only for her that it had jolted her to see the way he looked at the woman. Jealousy had come swift and sharp and had to be tamped out.
She had wanted to march over and drag the bitch away by her blonde roots.
He came back in and slid into bed, eyes searching her face. "Are we done?"
"We're done when I say we are. And I don't see why you're getting so hot under the collar about it. Unless this woman means something to you."
"It was a long time ago. All I feel is mild affection for someone I cared about when I was a teenager. Bloody hell!" he dragged his fingers through his hair and fisted them. "Why are you bent on spoiling our honeymoon?"
"All I wanted was answers, just that." Rising, she marched to the dresser to pull a drawer out and searched for pajamas. "That's all. No need to get so upset."
"I'm not..." he started to say when she pressed a hand on her chest. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Don't tell me that." He was off the bed like a flash when she turned and rushed into the bathroom. His face whitened when she slid to the floor and started retching.
He hurried after her, concern overriding his lingering frustration.
Dropping to his knees beside her, he gently gathered her hair back and murmured soothing words, his anger forgotten now that worry took over.
The sight of her pale face and trembling hands set his heart racing in a way jealousy never could.
Patiently waiting until she was through, he gathered her up and took her to the sink.
Filling the glass with water from the tap, he held it to her mouth.
When she rinsed and spat several times, he silently carried her to the bed where he sat and cradled her like a child, rocking back and forth as she turned her face into his chest.
"I'm sorry." He murmured over and over again, his lips brushing the top of her head. "Please forgive me baby. I love you. Only you."
"I know." She lifted her head to give him a tremulous smile. "I was being a royal bitch."
Tilting her face up, he rested his forehead on hers and heaved out a breath. "I don't ever want you to go through anything like this again."
"It's all right."
"No, it's not." Raising his head, he stared at her fiercely. "You don't understand what it does to me to hear you, to see you on your knees, suffering like that. It breaks me." His hands cupped her face. "It makes me feel helpless."
"How about making me some tea?"
He stared at her for a second as if his mind had gone blank. "Tea? Of course. How stupid of me. I should have offered..."
"Darling." She placed two fingers over his lips vertically. "Stop with the guilt. I'm fine. I guess the Colcannon did it. I should have stuck with the fish and chips."
"Noted." He kissed her forehead. "Some strong Irish tea coming right up." He held her for a minute. "Sure, you're all right?"
"I am."
He finally released her, slipping off the bed, but not before smoothing the hair from her forehead with the gentlest of touches.
She watched his silhouette in the half-light as he padded quietly to the kitchenette, listening to the clink of the kettle being filled and placed on the stove.
The subtle, everyday noise grounded her, reminding her that despite the storm of emotions, there were still these small acts of care tethering them together.
For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting the promise of warmth and familiarity soothe the last of her nerves.
He came back with a tray. "I found some tea biscuits as well."
"Perfect." She sat up and he placed the tray on her lap.
"A glass of water." Springing up, he hurried back into the kitchenette to fill a glass and brought it back.
And sat there watching as she sipped the tea and nibbled on the biscuits.
"Better?"
"Hmm. What kind of tea is this?"
"It's called Sencha."
"It's very strong."
"Too strong?" he asked concerned.
"No, just right. It's settling well in my stomach."
"Good. Finish up and let's get some sleep."