12. Cian
Chapter 12
Cian
T o my shock and absolute pleasure, Scarlett lets me pull her into my lap. I lean against the back cushion, wrap my arms around her, and just hold her.
She pulls her feet up to rest on the seat of the chair and seems to curl up.
“Thank you,” I murmur against her hair after a moment.
“For what?”
I run my hand up and down her back. “For letting me hold you like this.”
She huffs out a soft laugh. “I should thank you.”
“This is the first time I’ve felt like maybe I’m helping you by being here.”
She leans in against me more fully. “If you need to feel that, let me tell you, you are. Having someone want to be around me, want to be this close to me, is nice. It’s been a while. Besides Ruby and Mariah and Greta of course. It’s pretty…”
I work on not tensing up underneath her. “It’s pretty what?”
“Lonely.”
Jesus. My heart clenches.
“Where’s your mom?”
“She moved to Phoenix about ten years ago to be closer to some girlfriends. She was just…over this town.” She sighs heavily. “I don’t blame her. She and Brian stayed in touch though. They were still friends, so when he got sick, they talked about plans. She knew he planned to leave me and Ruby the house and business. Mom wanted him to just sell it all and give us the money. She’s actually still a little annoyed with him for doing it this way. But he wanted us to have the chance to come back and have a second chance here if we wanted it. If we didn’t, or we try it and it doesn’t work, we can always sell. But the fact that he wanted to give us that chance made me want to try.”
He gave them choices. That’s great. But I think I’m on Judy’s side here.
“Let me take you away from this,” I say. I probably sound like I’m begging. But I will.
She gives a soft sigh. “I can’t.”
“I can take both you and Mariah away. Ruby too. Mariah would have a whole family to support her. A very cool cousin that she’d love. Grandparents she could be proud of. A grandmother who would love on her.” I take a breath. “Let me give you the family and community you need.”
She’s quiet in my arms. When she finally speaks, she breaks my heart. “I want to make up for how I was before, Cian. I want them to forgive me.”
I wait a few beats. I should let this go. We’re just getting to know each other. But, in the end, I can’t. “You can’t make people forgive you. You can just be the person you want to be now. If they don’t see it, or won’t let the past go, that’s on them.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Do you forgive yourself?” I ask.
She’s quiet and I think she’s not going to answer me. Finally though, she says, “I’m not sure.”
I tighten my arms around her. “That’s all that matters. Just work on that.”
She wiggles and I loosen my hold. I don’t want her to get up, but I can’t force her to stay on my lap.
But instead of pushing off my lap, she turns, straddling my thighs.
“I…” She stops, her gaze bouncing back and forth between my eyes. Then she mutters something that sounds like, “Fuck it,” and leans in and kisses me.
Thank God. Fuck yes .
Those are the words that go through my mind. I need her mouth on me. I need her hands on me. I need to touch her, feel her, smell her, taste her. I struggle to keep control and let her lead this, but damn it takes everything I’ve got.
It feels like she’s exploring. Her lips are soft, seeking. She pulls back, tips her head, then comes back at the kiss from a new angle.
She strokes my shoulders, my neck, down over my chest.
I want to growl, but I keep that inside too somehow.
Finally, she lifts her head. She stares at me for a few beats. “I’ve missed you,” she finally says.
Fuck. That almost stops my heart. I’m not surprised by the sentiment, but I am surprised she admits it.
My hands are now resting on the outer curve of her ass. I squeeze her. “I’ve been dying slowly without you.”I can’t not say that.
She gives a breathy groan. It sounds a little exasperated. And a little turned on. She starts to say something, then seems to think better of it, and instead leans in, pressing her mouth to mine again.
I let her lead the kiss for a few seconds. I don’t know if she just wants a sweet connection and just getting reacquainted, or if she needs something more.
I want to consume her. I want to wrap myself around her and not let her go for days. Maybe weeks. I want to tell her I love her. I want to get down on one knee. I want to beg her to let me take care of her.
But I also know that I can’t push her. I’m here to stay for the next couple of weeks, but how close she lets me get is up to her in large part. I will press every advantage. I am not too proud to admit that. I can be a gentleman when the occasion calls for it, but I’m not so sure that’s the right approach with the woman in my lap. Scarlett needs to be pursued. She needs to be wanted.I sensed that even in New Orleans. She loved my words, hearing how much I wanted her, being praised. She responded every single time. But now that I know more about her past and her situation here, I realize it’s even more important.
Which works out well, because I don’t think I could leave her alone for anything. I fully intend to pursue her until she tells me to back the hell off. And means it.
She pulls back and studies me again, breathing a little faster now.
Her hand runs over my jaw. “I miss your beard. But you’re really handsome like this too. You look younger though.”
I lift a brow. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
She presses her lips together. “I should probably say bad, but I don’t think it is.”
I bring her forward, making sure she feels my hard cock. “Because you think you’re seducing me again?”
She nods.
“Scarlett.”
I make sure her eyes are locked on mine.
“No one’s manipulating anyone. No one’s tricking anyone. I know exactly where I am, why I’m here, and what I want.” I pause. “How about you? Are you here of your free will?”
She nods.
“And what do you need from me?” I ask gruffly.
If she pushes back, gets up, and goes inside, I will let her go. For now. But I’m going to try to make that a difficult decision.
She kept me waiting, wanting, searching for months. For the last two months, she’s known where I have been and that I wanted her. For longer she’s known who I am and where I am and she still kept herself away from me.
I should punish her for that. Make her needy and desperate.
I shouldn’t let her know she has all the power here.
But she absolutely does.
“You,” she finally says. “Having you here feels good. You make me feel good. I…” She trails off and swallows.
I just wait. My whole body feels tight, stretched thin, waiting for her to finish that sentence.
“I forgot how good you make me feel. Not just physically, but just in general. I actually pushed it away because I didn’t want to remember. Because it made me miss you like hell. But now, I can’t… resist it.”
Jesus.
I can’t do it. I can’t keep anything from her. Especially myself.
“I will give you whatever you need. Anything you want,” I tell her, my voice rough.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, clearly battling with herself.
She must make some decision in that beautiful head of hers because she blows out a breath and leans in, kissing me again.
This one’s different.
Her fingers curl into my scalp, she presses the middle seam of her shorts against my fly, moaning sweetly into my mouth.
As I grip her tighter and press her closer, she opens her mouth.
And that’s it. The tiny bit of resolve I had crumbles. The fire ignites and we’re both gone.
Our tongues stroke, our breathing quickens, and our hands roam.
I slide my hand up under her shirt, searching for bare skin.
I stroke up and down her back as her hands slip under my shirt, gripping my sides, kissing me deep, making delicious noises as she grinds against me.
I work my hand under the elastic sports bra she’s wearing and slide around to the front, covering her bare breast in my hand, squeezing, my thumb teasing over her hard nipple.
She pulls her mouth away from mine. “Cian.” She rests her forehead against mine.
“What do you need?” I ask. “You can ask me for anything.”
“More,” she says simply.
I pull my head back to look at her, still teasing her nipple.
“Do you need to come? It’s been a long time. Do you need an orgasm, little witch? Has this magical pussy missed me?”
She sucks in a breath and when I think that possibly this is where she will push away, she nods.
I smile with satisfaction. “Fingers or cock?”
Her eyes widen slightly, but it’s only because she’s forgotten how I talk. She quickly remembers.
“Out here?” she asks.
She’s not protesting. I know she’s asking if I can assure her this is okay. The way she let me take the lead during sex in New Orleans was one of the biggest fucking turn-ons of my life. She was eager, vocal, happy to give me words, but also beautifully submissive. She loved having me take charge and lead the way.
“No one will come out here. It’s just you and me,” I tell her.
I know that Ruby and Henry will not venture out here. I also know that Henry will keep Mariah from coming out here. I’m certain my friend knows that even if I’m not getting Scarlett naked, we are talking about things Mariah doesn’t need to hear.
Besides, Mariah’s not stupid. I don’t think she would be surprised, or appalled, if she found out what me and her mom were doing out here. She’d probably be thrilled, actually.
Still, it’s not something any of them need to witness.
“Cock,” Scarlett says softly.
If I wasn’t already sitting, my knees would’ve given out. I did not intend to fuck her when I came out here. But there’s no way I’m passing it up.
Yes, maybe we should take this slower, but it’s been nineteen fucking months. This is the woman I want more than I want anything else. If the sex was all that was really real between us—and I’m not at all convinced that’s true— then I definitely want that. I want her to remember that. I want to imprint that on her in every way I can as soon as possible.
I run my hand up her back into her hair and then slowly twist her hair around my hand. I hold her still and bring her face in closer to mine. “I should make you beg for my cock. You’re the reason we’ve both been without this for so long.”
She sucks in a little breath. “I know,” she says.
She does not apologize, however.
I file away the idea of making her really beg for later. I think she’d like it. She was very dirty for me in New Orleans.
For now I say, “How about a little please, Scarlett?”
She wets her lips, and her mouth focuses on mine. “Please.”
“Please fill me up with your cock and make me come, Cian,” I command.
“Please fill me up with your cock and make me come, Cian,” she says obediently.
Oh, yes, she remembers how we were together.
She loved just letting go, letting me boss her around. I realize now that she has so much weight on her shoulders—being a mom, her work, her past—it probably felt good to just surrender to the pleasure.
Now that weight is all even heavier. This town, her reputation, her regrets and guilt, Mariah’s issues at school…
I know what Scarlett needs.
I tug on her hair, tipping her head back and pressing my mouth to her neck. I nip her throat then lick over the spot. “Has anyone ever made you come in this town?”
“No.” She’s already practically panting.
I wasn’t sure what to expect with that question. This is, after all, where she grew up and went to high school, where she got pregnant with Mariah.
“Oh, that’s right. You were such a good girl, weren’t you?”
She tries to nod, but I’m holding her hair too tightly. “Yes,” she says softly.
“Did you keep your legs together until Mariah’s dad?” I ask against her throat, dragging my mouth up and down the smooth expanse. It’s not as gratifying without my beard. I won’t leave behind the whisker burns I would have otherwise. Still, I love the feel of her skin against my mouth.
I feel her swallow.
“Yes,” she says.
“And I’ll bet he had to take you out on sweet dates, buy you flowers, act like a real gentleman to get his hand into those pristine white panties, didn’t he?”
She squirms on my lap. “Yes.”
I slide my hand down, cupping her through her shorts, pressing the heel of my hand against her clit, rubbing. “Did he make you come?”
“No,” she gasps.
I lift my head. I rub her more firmly and feel her pressing into my hand. No? He hadn’t made her come? Oh, I fucking like that. And that probably makes me an asshole. “How many were between him and me?”
“Two,” she says, her voice ragged. “And only one made me come.” She sucks in a breath as I press harder. “And it was nothing like you.”
I rub her faster. “Did you ride them, Scarlett? Has anyone else bent you over and fucked you from behind after he spanked your perfect little ass? Did any of them eat this delicious pussy until you were screaming and then keep going until you were sobbing?”
Her fingers dig into my sides, and she tries to shake her head. “No. God, no. None of that. Not until you.”
Fuck. I’m going to lose it right here without even getting her naked.
I nip her throat again a little harder. “Even if you’re lying, you know exactly what to say to make me fuck you really well, don’t you, my gorgeous witch?”
“You always fuck me really well. But I’m not lying.”
I pull back and look at her. “You let me finger you in an elevator. You let me push you up against the door of a hotel, strip you down, and eat you right there. You begged for my cock.”
“I know.”
“Because that was the real you, wasn’t it? That’s what you really want and need. Being spanked, and bossed, and called a good girl and a dirty girl, and being spread out and absolutely worshipped from head to toe.”
She stares at me. My hand is cupping her pussy. I can feel how hot and wet she is through the fabric of her shorts. She’s breathing like she just ran four blocks. Every single memory of our weekend together is pinging back and forth between us.
Is she going to lie?
Finally, she whispers, “Yes.”
I reward her with a squeeze between her legs. “Can you be quiet? I love making you scream, but we are on your back patio with people inside and neighbors who might have their windows open.”
“I don’t know,” she says, honestly.
I nod. “Good answer.” I let go of her hair and slip my hand from between her legs. I nudge her back. “Take your shorts off.”