Chapter 22 Stay
Stay
Isaiah wrapped his pudgy fingers around the edge of the counter and peered into the kettle. “Is it hot?”
Looking down at his tawny head, I couldn’t resist pressing my lips to his crown before answering. “It’s hot but it’s not hot enough to burn you.”
He tipped his chin back and beamed up at me.
I took in his little face, so open to receiving love, and smiled back at him. I loved this age. I missed this age.
It didn’t hurt to remember as much today as it usually did. I let a little bit more in, remembering doing this with Jakey when he was six. Maybe one day we’d do it again.
“Can I stir?”
I nodded and nudged the step stool over for him before handing him the spoon.
Isaiah had spent enough time in Anita’s kitchen to not only know his way around, but to have his own personal apron hanging on a hook next to hers.
My heart warmed for my sweet aunt whose laughter reached us from the front of the store.
Kian leaned his shoulder against the wall, strong arms crossed over his chest, with one ankle crossed over the other. Face soft, he watched us silently.
The week had been blessedly uneventful, though I hadn’t seen Kian or Isaiah at all.
“I missed seeing you this week,” I stated with a calm I couldn’t quite grasp.
Not seeing him as I was accustomed to after pouring myself out unbalanced me.
“The renovations are demanding all my attention this week,” he murmured. “This is the nature of the job.”
I grinned. “Maybe you shouldn’t have bought all three.”
He rubbed a rough hand over his face and huffed out a laugh. “Three is a bit much. I’m mostly focussing on the one right now. When I get it to a certain milestone, I’ll pick up the pace with the other two.”
“I’ve been going with Dad every night,” Isaiah chimed in. “Sometimes Gabe comes with us. He has tattoos on his arms and on his chest. I’m going to get tattoos when I’m big. And I get to be with my brother,” he puffed up proudly, “on the nights Dad doesn’t need me.”
Kian grinned. “You’re the best assistant a guy can ask for, buddy.”
“Gabe went with you to the house?”
Kian flushed. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out a bit. He fixed the brakes on my car, and we got to talking. He’s a great guy.”
“So,” I teased. “Double date soon?”
He laughed. “I’ll leave that to you to set up.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, pleased. “Do you always work this hard?”
He shook his head. “This one has a tight turnaround.”
My eyebrows flew up, understanding replacing my fear. “Really? You sold one?”
He smiled softly. “Yup. This one is spoken for. Two more to go.”
“Do we get to pour it into shapes now?” Isaiah interrupted.
I shook my head and pointed to the sweet pool of chocolatey goodness. “This melted chocolate is all broken down. If we pour it into the molds now, we’ll be very disappointed.”
“Why?”
“The chocolate will be dull and won’t hold together properly.”
His eyebrows scrunched together. “Can we fix it?”
“Oh, yes.” Taking the bag of chocolate callets, I carefully measured out what we needed and handed a couple to him to nibble. “We temper it.”
He popped both into his mouth and began to chew. “What does temper mean?”
“It means we seed the broken-down chocolate with this strong chocolate. The melted chocolate takes in the callets and becomes strong again.” I wagged my eyebrows. “And tasty. You want to stir while I seed?”
He nodded, glancing up at Kian. “Dad, are you watching?” He cocked his head. “You want a turn seeding with Bridget?”
Kian grinned, his eyes dancing at the double meaning. “Definitely later, buddy. Right now, I’m happy to watch.”
I flushed happily.
“This is called temper, Dad. This makes it strong and tasty.”
I laughed. “Less talking, more stirring!”
After a minute, he looked up at me. “Are we almost done?”
I checked the temperature. “Not quite. How about you get the pan ready while I take over this easy part?”
I didn’t have to ask him twice.
“What pan?”
I nodded to the countertop beside me. “See those bowls? Do you like what’s inside them?”
He lifted his chin and leaned over the shallow pan. “Yup!”
“Okay, spread the pretzels and peanuts and raisins all over the pan. Make sure they’re not overlapping.”
With his tongue poking through his lips, he concentrated on his task. “Can I add Smarties?”
I nodded. “You can add anything from those bowls.”
It took him longer than I thought it would to get it just right, but when he was finally ready, the chocolate was, too.
“Back up a bit for me so I can pour it over your design.”
“Are we making chocolate bars?” His voice rose higher with every syllable.
“Bark,” I explained. “After it’s set, we’ll snap it into chunks.”
“And eat it?”
I nodded once. “And eat it.”
“I’m going to eat so much of it,” he whispered.
Kian chuckled. “Not too much.”
“Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll share with you.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Kian answered dryly.
Pouring a few smarties into a bag to tide him over, we got ready for the beach. Kian sent Isaiah to the bathroom before leaving.
Taking advantage of a few minutes alone, Kian looped his arms around my waist and tipped his chin down. “You have your swimsuit on?”
I rested my hands on his biceps. Nodding, I pressed my lips together in a tight smile.
“Bridget,” he clipped. “I want to see you smiling and happy, not worried over nonsensical things.”
“My thighs are not nonsensical.”
“Your thighs are fucking delicious,” he growled, pulling my body flush to his. “You’re perfection. You’re exactly what I want. Your curves, your taste, your—”
The bathroom door swung open. “I’m ready!”
Kian snorted as he turned away to adjust himself. “Yeah, me too.”
I laughed, my heart lighter than it had been in forever. And when Kian’s hand came down on my ass with a hard slap on our way out the door?
It fucking flew.
And so did our day together.
When Isaiah slipped into a chocolate-induced coma, Kian took me to his bed.
He was insatiable, his hands, his mouth, his muscles ripe with tension as he took me apart, piece by piece.
“What’s going on with you, baby?” I breathed as he rolled onto his back, bringing me with him.
Clasping his hand around the back of my neck, he brought my mouth to his. “Let me taste you, Bridget.”
I opened to him, and he hummed low in his throat as he stroked my tongue with his before dragging his lips to my ear. Hands sliding down my sides to my hips, he ordered. “Get up here. Ride my face, sweet girl.”
For one brief moment, fear urged me to refuse. But I wasn’t going to be the woman who denied herself sensual pleasure based on some antiquated idea of what made up the feminine. Not anymore.
Rising to my knees, I shimmied up to the headboard and swung one leg over his face.
Before my knee hit the mattress, he wrapped his hands around my thighs and yanked me down onto his mouth.
“Aw, fuck, yes,” he growled, plunging his tongue as deep as he could get inside me.
I threw my head back, mewling, “Kian.”
My hips shot forward and I pulled them back sharply, holding my body still. I was not a tiny girl, and I didn’t want to overwhelm him.
A sharp slap on my ass elicited a surprised gasp.
“Don’t you dare hold back, sweet girl. Ride my fuckin’ face.”
I shifted my hips forward slightly, sucking in a breath at the satisfied hum coming from the man between my thighs. He flattened his tongue against my clit.
“Oh,” I breathed.
“Use me, Bridget.” He rubbed his lips over my clit as he spoke. “Get yourself off, baby.”
Bracing myself on the headboard, I rubbed my pussy over the flat of his tongue, groaning when he swirled it around my clit.
Pleasure rose hot and fast, almost unbearable in its intensity, but that’s how things were with Kian.
Since the first day. I felt more for him than I’d ever felt for anyone else.
This sweet, kind, gentle man who kept such tight control over his every emotion except in our bed.
Fingers digging into my thighs, he pulled his mouth away to plant gentle, sucking kisses everywhere except the one place I desperately needed it.
“Kian,” I mewled, grinding down. “Give me your tongue.”
“Say please.”
I growled like a little cat.
He laughed, his chest vibrating under my ass, and shifted his kisses to the inside of my thigh.
“Please!” I hissed.
Returning to the scene of his recent abandonment, he covered my clit with his mouth until I fell apart.
His hands stroked my hips and thighs while I came down.
I swung my leg over his head and wiggled down beside him.
With his hands on either side of my head, he pulled my mouth to his. “You made a mess of my face, baby. Clean it up.”
Licking across his bottom lip, I murmured, “Dirty boy.”
He chuckled and slanted his mouth over mine.
“You like the way you taste, sweet girl?”
“I taste good,” I breathed.
“Yes, you fuckin’ do,” he growled.
With one last kiss, I made my way down his body, eliciting a low groan as I dragged my tongue over his tight little nipple. Slipping first one knee, then the other, between his thighs, I curled up in a ball and took his cock to the back of my throat.
“Bridget,” he warned, tangling his fingers in my hair. “Slow down.”
I hummed with happiness as I closed my lips over his shaft and dragged my mouth back up until he popped out.
He blew out a slow, relieved breath and loosened his hold on my hair.
Dipping my head, I licked up the length of his shaft once then again, looking up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze as he released my hair and crossed his arms behind his head to watch.
Sitting back on my haunches, I leaned over and grabbed the lube.
He blew out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his body at the reprieve, but his eyes tracked my every move.
Flicking the cap open, I tipped it over and dripped the cold jelly along his cock.
His hips pressed back into the mattress. “Cold,” he grumbled.
I slanted him a sly glance. “You’ll need it.”
Bringing the tube to my collarbone, I gave it a squeeze, watching him swallow as it dripped down between my breasts.
Dropping down, I brushed my chest against his erection.
One of his hands tangled in my hair, while he flung the other arm over his face as his hips jerked up with a grunt.
Snaking my hand under his length, I hugged my breasts together around his cock and rocked back and forth.
He gasped, his hand tightening in my hair.
I looked at him. “Does it feel good, baby?”
“Amazing,” he rasped, eyes closed, head tossed back.
“The way it feels or the way it looks?” I prodded, sliding my torso back and forth, the head of his cock peeking out between my breasts with every slide.
“The way it feels,” he gasped.
“Look,” I demanded softly.
His eyes flickered open and down.
I watched his mouth fall open as I moved over him.
It was obscene, the purple, swollen head of his cock thrusting between my pale, milky white breasts.
I loved it.
With a harsh gasp, his other hand shot down to grip my hair. Using both hands, his big body quaking, he pulled me off. “That’s an illegal move,” he laughed shakily. “You can only do that after we’ve done it three days in a row.”
I laughed softly and climbed up to straddle him.
“How do you feel about no condoms?”
“I feel great,” he replied immediately.
I wasted no time sheathing him inside me.
His hands moved to hold my hips steady as his own began to move.
“Did I say you could move?”
His eyes flew to mine, then narrowed. “Bridget.”
I dipped my chin. “Kian.” With the barest hint of a smile, I whispered, “Be a good boy and I’ll let you come inside me.”
His lips parted.
Leaning forward slowly, his cock pulsing inside me, I continued, “I’ll even let you watch your come drip from my pussy and slide down my thigh.”
His fingers dug into my hips as he threw his head back, back arched, hips pressing back into the mattress. Chest inflating, he fought for control while I watched, rapt.
Afraid to move in case I accidentally tipped him over, quivering with my own building need to move, I waited until his body relaxed back into the bed before stroking his chest. “You’re doing so well, baby.”
He blew out a breath then laughed softly. “I think I may have a praise kink.”
I smiled at him. “We’ll have to explore that, but for now, I’m just going to sit here with your fat cock tucked inside my c--.”
One second I was staring down at him, the next I was flat on my back with my ankles up around my ears, Kian kneeling between my thighs, still buried inside me.
Staring down at the place where we joined, he slowly drew back then fucked me slow and deep. Brow furrowed, he plunged his arms under my knees and shifted my hips up to change the angle.
I cried out when he hit the spot inside me, the one from which there was no going back. Nothing in the world could stop an orgasm originating from that spot.
He chuckled darkly. “Now, who’s in control, Bridget?”
Hands fisting the sheets, I watched his powerful body move over me.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathed.
His hips jerked forward once at my words before returning to the steady pace, sending me higher with every thrust. “You’re stunning, Bridget. Your skin, your face, your fuckin’ tits. Your beautiful heart.” Dipping his head, he kissed the inside of my knee. “I adore you.”
He stared down at me as he slowly moved inside me.
Heat infused my cheeks as he pushed me farther. I nodded to let him know it was coming. “Kian.”
“Yes, Bridget,” he coaxed. “Give it to me again my sweet girl.”
As if I had a choice.
My eyes fluttered shut and my mind shut down as my body took over, waves of fiery pleasure billowing up from my core and streaming out into each of my limbs.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he breathed, his big body sending me further and further up the mattress as he drove inside me.
I stretched my arms up over my head and braced my hands against the headboard, taking his every thrust.
He came with a deep grunt, his hips rolling tightly until the tension in his body floated away. With a deep sigh, he stretched that long body over mine, settled his lean hips between my thighs, and interlaced our fingers.
Those large hands, rough with callouses, but always oh-so-gentle.
“Bridget,” he whispered, trailing his sweet breath along the curve of my throat. “You temper me.”
The tiny scrap of self-preservation I had left, melted away. “Kian.”
“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured against my throat.
I swallowed. “What about Isaiah?”
Running his fingers through my hair, he coaxed my lips back to his own. “Stay.”