Scrupulous (An Affliction of Falling Novel Book 1) (26 page)

Fuck it. Grabbing her up and into my arms, I charge at her cherry-red lips. I kiss her with all the love I hold in my heart and need that goes far beyond sex. I need her by my side, period. She fights me for about half a second before giving into it. Another second passes before she begins to sob, her salty tears melding onto our lips. To consume her sadness, to taste her tears is like heaven and hell wrapped into one. Her warm, soft mouth becomes water in the desert.

I hold her tight and swear to the heavens that if I ever hurt her this bad again, may they strike me down then and there. The desperation in which I claim her mouth is met by her as she jumps and wraps her legs around my waist.

I back her into the living room wall. As hard as I am, sex couldn’t be further from my mind. Having her willingly back in my arms is better. After a few minutes of being enveloped in divinity, she pulls back and sucker punches my jaw out of nowhere. Her delicate fist packs a horrid punch, and pain bursts through my head. Despite the impact, I don’t budge or make a sound. I’ve been hit harder and kept a straight face. Part of me expected this much.

“Don’t you ever make me feel like that again! Do you understand me, Gavin?” She seethes, anger and pain etched deep within her lovely features.

“Crystal clear. Is that a yes?” I grin like a smug bastard seeing the weight of her resolve waver, blood trickling over my taste buds.

A slew of cuss words that would make a nun weep flow from her mouth, causing my grin to spread even wider.

“It’s a yes! Oh, thank fucking God on that, baby! You won’t regret it. I swear on my grandmother’s grave, you won’t regret it, Sorcha Quinn!” I pull her back to me and claim her mouth once more as I walk us to the master suite in a haze of love and joy.

Never in my life has such happiness descended upon me, wrapping me up entirely. Who knew my distant and self-absorbed life could be elevated to this level. In finding her, I found myself. Gone is the scrappy beast always looking for an exercise in precision and control. Gone is the man who tortured his family with his ill decision making in a quest to find himself. And finally, after being divested of all the disguises I had been wearing by the eyes of an angel, here I stand.

∞

That fucking little minx, always keeping me on my toes. My blood pressure rises, thrumming in my ears as I narrow my eyes at the phone now glowing with her text.

“I know you said not to, but I did.”

She fucking didn’t. I explicitly told her not to! I’ve always kept my places masculine, clean, and simple. Sorcha came home with purple color swatches and a mean gleam in her eyes the other night. After cuffing her to the spanking bench in our new playroom at the beach house, I thought it had been made pretty clear that we were not going to have a purple fucking kitchen. Palming up my keys, my dominant hand twitches with the need to feel the well-worn leather handle of my whip. This woman continues to be a brat, and she refuses to adhere to a more proper sub’s role. For the most part, we’ve found a balance, but moments like these try me.

Something about what we share has managed to satisfy my sadistic side, and she has proven to be more of a masochist than even I thought possible. Her sexual submission could make a grown man cry. Sure, sex is the only setting in which she can fulfill this crucial role; Sorcha will never be able to embrace the lifestyle full force and that is okay. It works, what we have is unique, and I wouldn’t want her any other way.

My cock pulses against my zipper as the soft caress of her mouth on my dick lights my imagination. Oh, yeah. I am going to whip that ass, throw in some cock worship, leading up to a couple days’ worth of orgasm denial for her. Her body responds to my whip like the world’s finest symphony to a master conductor; it’s fucking beautiful. And her hungry little mouth certainly can’t get enough, especially for one who had such an aversion to the act of blowjobs. By the time I am done with her tonight, she will be dripping wet and begging for it. And I’ll be damned if she gets a release until the weekend! Better throw in the threat of kneeling on the cement on our porch for an hour if she even thinks about masturbating.

The delicious curves of her body and all the things I want to do to it distract me from my current task, forcing me to quickly shut down my laptop in a rush to get home to her. The memory of her spice on my tongue has me licking my lips in anticipation as the distant reminiscence of her aroused scent fills my nose.

“And where in the hell do you think you are going?” Daz rasps from the door of my office at Tryst, ripping my concentration away from my plotting.

“Heading home, boss,” I grunt and cast an unpleasant glare in that direction, pissed at the interference.

“You are one scary fuck; good thing that doesn’t work on me.” The almost non-existent trace of his Jersey accent peeks through as he casually draws on the stub of his cigar. “We got a problem to deal with.” He feathers out a cloud of smoke as he narrows his eyes, assessing me.

“There is always a problem to be dealt with. It can wait until tomorrow.” Slinging my leather jacket over my shoulder, I push past his stalky but solid frame. No doubt he could hold his own in hand-to-hand combat just fine.

“Who’s the boss here again?” he attempts to question with authority, but the humor in his eyes ruins it.

“You are. Later.” As I begin to exit, he calls over my shoulder.

“Nah, pretty sure that sexy brat of yours holds your balls now.”

Turning slightly and glancing back, a devious grin spreads over my face, disintegrating the traces of a scared past, “Quite capably. You should try it sometime.”

His robust laugh rings out as he shakes his head. “Not a chance. Later.”

Hoping on my bike and bringing the engine to life, I ease the clutch back and give it some gas. As the city lights begin to blur off in the distance, the night swallows me up and I continue on my plight to get to home to her. We’ve been living together a month as of today, and I’ve never been happier. Well, until her artist side came calling and she started getting all of these ‘ideas.’

The only reply I gave when her text came through was “Be home at 2.” Aside from living at home with my parents, I had never lived with anyone. Thank God for that because this melding of two households, two ways of life bullshit, has been enough to give me a few grey hairs. Visions of getting her under me flush my neck as I turn down our street, my body now humming with a new excitement.

Pulling up into the driveway, all the lights are off, heightening my awareness. She normally leaves the living room light on. She must have gone to bed already.
Unacceptable!
If Sorcha is sleeping, it won’t be for long.

Sliding my key into the front door, I barely open the squeaky piece of wood back on its hinges before I catch sight of her naked figure illuminated by the porch light now streaming in.

Sorcha is waiting for me, perched back on her heels, palms up on her lap and head down in perfect submissive form. This is the first time that she has ever presented like this, primed and ready for my will. Fuck it! She can paint the whole house in polka dots for all I care. Promptly closing the door, I pause at her side and run my palm up her neck, causing her to shiver in anticipation. The silky tresses glide through my fingers before I greedily encapsulate the strands and yank back, my inner dominant soaring from this beautiful present.

“You thought that this would be penance enough for doing what you did?” I gruffly ask but tremble slightly in yearning.

“No, Sir. This is our official one-month anniversary present.” Her eyes flick to the playroom and as I follow along, I see a trail of candlelight ending at a new piece of equipment hanging in the center. If I had had less control, my seed would have spilled on the spot.

“Someone has been busy on her day off. And, technically, I’ve owned that pussy a lot longer than a month.” I can’t help but try to get a rise out of her; this woman’s fire gets me off in a way I never knew I needed.

Her eyes narrow as she bites back a response before smoothing out her soft, feminine face. “Sir, that may be true, but officially, it has only been a month.” The click of her tongue on the roof of her mouth tells me she is holding back as best as she can.

Sorcha and her technicalities. “Oh baby girl, we will have to agree to disagree.” Releasing her hair before what little control I have left slithers away. I pull out a rectangular velvet box from the inside of my leather jacket and open it for her to see. Her eyes go wide as they scramble back and forth between the box and my face. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

Taking out the short, silver Herringbone chain, I gently reach around the slender column of her neck as she side sweeps her long hair. After I fasten it, her fingers reach up and trace the pendant in awe. It’s her birthstone in teardrop form, artistically wire wrapped with two small diamonds in representation of our pairing. It sits perfectly in the hollow of her neck, a tasteful collar that to the outside world will appear as nothing more than a beautiful piece of art. It is the first piece of jewelry that I have ever bought a woman. It is also the first formal collar I have ever given. All of these things she knows as she gazes back at me in wonder, a tear escaping her eye and running down the soft swell of her cheek.

Leaning down, I sip it from her flesh before finding her lips. Desperation fills use both as I crush into her and she meets me point for point. Grasping the reins, I begrudgingly pull back and incline my head towards the playroom. She gasps at my sudden absence, eyes glazed over in desire. “You think you deserve a go in that?” A wicked smile plays on my lips.

“It is our special day. Can’t we talk about the kitchen tomorrow?” A hopeful expression gleams back at me through her lustful state.

“Hmmm, I don’t think so.” As much as I want to suspend her in that fancy new sex swing now adorning the suspension rack, I can’t give in now. Her deflated face almost breaks my heart.

“Will you at least look at the kitchen first?” she pleads. Sonofabitch─ having her beg on her knees with her naked perfect curves calling to me and the drunk-with-need haze saturating her being─ I about buckle over on the spot.

“Only if you crawl on all fours ahead of me,” I manage through a clenched jaw, my inner dominant warring with my possessive and highly sexually driven side.

Instead of the anticipated scowl, she promptly falls forward on her hands and begins to sashay her way to the offending room. My hand reaches forward to stroke the swell of her ass but quickly pulls back. The sway of her bare hips makes me forget the task at hand until she stops, stands, and turns on the soft overhanging light above the sink.

Dark, regal purple walls stare back, highlighting the white cabinets and making the new granite countertops I had just put in stand out. I have to give it to her; it looks really… really good.

“This wasn’t a mutual agreement; you did this without my approval,” I grunt, attempting not to give in too fast and admit wrongdoing.

“I know, I am sorry about that, but I had to show you the vision that you could not see. If you want me to paint it something else, I will.” She sighs heavily, and hanging her head under the weight of my suspected disapproval.

Without another word, I throw her over my shoulder and plant a firm hand over her ass, causing her to giggle in delight. “It stays. Next time, you will wait for me. And I will try to be more open.”

“Yes, Sir!”

With that, I take her to the playroom, all thoughts of punishment thrown by the wayside. She has always had a way of disarming me, corrupting me on a level like no other. All rules and logic defied. Thank fucking God for that.

Sorcha

Lying wrapped up in a tangle of limbs, the sound of the ocean mixes with the subtle snoring stemming from Gavin. Peace and tranquility wash through me as I find my mind lulling about but not quite ready for sleep. A few months ago, I never would have been able to picture the life I now lead. Part-time bartender and now full-time artist, as well as full-time partner to an amazing man who centers my world.

My daddy hit the ceiling when I told him I was moving in with Gavin, and my mum started clasping her hands in prayer and thanking God she might finally get some grandchildren. I laugh at the thought of having a child, we are far from that, but I have to admit, the idea doesn’t seem as horrific as it once did. Maybe one day we will opt for some wee ones running about. First, we need to finish mending the damaged bonds within the family.

My daddy refuses to speak to me for weeks. Finally, just a few days ago, we spoke again and had managed to get back on good terms. We are so much alike that it takes us a minute when we disagree. But, we always come round. After a few hours of talking, he finally agreed to bring my mum over for dinner tomorrow night. Hence, taking a risk on the kitchen.

Gavin’s arm tightens around my waist, and I sink into his inviting warmth. Heaven, simply heaven. It is within him that I found a passion for love and life beyond where any of my selfish endeavors used to take me. In practicing forgiveness and learning how to open my barriers to let someone in, I have been rewarded beyond my wildest dreams.