by Raine Miller
“Would you lower your voice?” I demanded. “Brynne is . . . well, she’s wary of commitment. It’s scary for her . . . because of her past.”
Dad flashed me a glare that told me pretty much what he thought of my explanation. “Too late for that, son. He snorted. “You’re already as committed as it gets. Having your child born without benefit of a legal marriage will be even scarier, I can assure you it will be. For you and for Brynne.” He shook his head at me. “Forget about the past, you need to think about the future.” He zeroed in on me like a dog after a steak. “Have you even proposed to her? I don’t see any ring on her finger.”
“I said I was working on it,” I snapped. And I really fucking am, Dad!
“Time won’t stand still, Ethan.”
“Really, Dad? Thanks for that bit of advice.” My sarcasm would have earned me a cuff along the jaw in my younger years. Now I just got narrowed eyes and another blast of frigid. An idea came to me that he might have shared our news already. “Does Marie know too?” I asked haughtily.
“She does not.” Dad gave me another hostile look with eye-roll added in before heading back to Brynne and Marie in the kitchen.
I stared at his retreating back in irritation, deciding some distance for now would be best. No sense in having a family row and upsetting everyone. Better just for me to suffer. I planted my arse on the sofa instead and wished for a cigarette. Or a whole pack.
Funny how the parents all reacted so differently to our news. Tom Bennett was happy for us, after he got over his initial shock, I think. He never demanded a wedding date, but simply wanted to see that we were happy and that I loved his daughter and was committed to taking care of her and our child. He’d even suggested plans to come over for a visit toward the end of fall, which thrilled Brynne.
Brynne’s mum didn’t ask about a wedding date either. Mrs. Exley was a different story, true, but then she didn’t like me, and I am sure she didn’t like the fact she was going to be a granny either. Too fucking bad for her then. A whole lot of cold silence had met us on the other end of the line when we rang her to share. Brynne hadn’t wanted to tell her mum on Skype as we had done with her dad, and I now understood why. Mum must’ve given off some evil looks when she heard our news and my sweet girl certainly didn’t need to see them. It had been bad enough trying to comfort her after putting down the phone. Yeah, the lines had been drawn in the sand and my opinion set. Brynne’s mum was a judgmental cow who clearly cared about her social position more than she cared about her daughter. Hopefully our dealings would be minimal.
So, yeah, my dad’s insta-hostility over our lack of a wedding date rather took me by surprise. Especially when two ounces of patience would put an end to his rabid concerns.
Within moments, Soot found my lap and made himself comfortable. He stared up at me with clear green eyes as I stroked his sleek shiny coat, wondering how the nice evening had evolved into getting my King Dickhead crown handed to me on a velvet cushion.
“I have a plan,” I said to the cat. “I do. I just haven’t shared with anyone yet.”
Soot blinked his clear green eyes at me in total understanding, and purred.
♥ Ethan pulled my chair out from the dinner table and helped me up. “I want to show Brynne the garden,” he announced.
“But shouldn’t we help clear away dinner?” I asked.
“No, please, my dear, let Ethan show you his mother’s lovely garden. I want you to see it.” Jonathan’s tone was final on this matter. I didn’t even contemplate arguing.
I looked up at Ethan and took his offered hand in mine. “Well, okay, if you don’t mind. The salmon and béarnaise was really nice. I’m impressed with your cooking skills, Jonathan.” I winked at Marie. “I knew about my aunt being a kitchen witch, but you surprise me.”
Jonathan shrugged. “I had to learn.” I instantly felt bad for reminding everyone of the loss of Ethan’s mom. A young boy had lost his mother, but Jonathan had lost his wife and soul mate. It was such a sad thing, but Jonathan had been prepared with years of practice in dealing with awkward moments like these, and he glided through this one like it was nothing. “Marie and I were quite a duo tonight, though. I did the fish and rice, she did the salad and dessert.” Jonathan flashed my smiling aunt a dashing wink. I wondered if they were . . . dating; a weird thought to think of them together romantically, but one that made me happy if it were true. Maybe they were just friends, but they sure did look cute together. I wondered what Ethan thought about seeing his dad with a woman.
Ethan pressed his hand to my back and led me outside. Soot bounced along ahead of us before jumping onto the brick base of an enormous garden urn flanking a secluded bench surrounded by deep purple larkspur and light blue lavender.
“This is so pretty, just like an English garden on a postcard.” I shrugged up at Ethan, who was looking really intense for a simple garden tour. He had his jaw set tight and a determined expression on his face. “Is it hard for you to see your dad with Marie?” I asked carefully.
He shook his head. “Not at all. Marie’s hot.” He grinned. “Go Dad, I say.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I was a little worried there for a moment. You seemed . . . tense during dinner.”
He pulled me down onto the garden bench and wrapped me in his arms, burying his head at my neck. “Do I seem tense now?” he muttered against my hair.
“Not as much,” I answered with a rub of my fingers at the base of his neck, “but your muscles here are very tight. When are we going to tell them? I thought we would have done it already.”
“We’ll make the announcement when we go back inside. I need a moment alone with you first.”
“I’ll take a moment alone with you.” I smiled into his handsome face looking so intently at me, the illumination from the garden lights reflecting in his blue eyes like tiny sparks. He leaned down to kiss me and swallowed me up with his expert technique. My stomach did a little flip at the sight of him looming, still just as affected by him now as I had been from the first moment we locked eyes that night in the Andersen Gallery back at the beginning of May.
Ethan kissed me in his father’s garden for far more than a moment, but I could have done it all night. His lips and tongue were magic from the beginning and still were. Ethan made me feel precious when he kissed me. No other man had ever made me feel so loved.
He pulled back finally and held my face in his hands. His thumb brushed over my lips in a caress that dragged over my bottom lip just enough to send the message. A “you’re mine” gesture that did strange things to my insides. The simplest touch from Ethan could do that, though, and I was familiar with the feeling by now. It just made me love him more, if that was even possible.
“I bought you something when we were at Hallborough. I found it in an antiques shop when I went into the village and knew it was for you. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it to you.” He pulled a small rectangular package out of his jacket pocket and placed it in my lap.
“Oh . . . I have a present?” I lifted the package and unwrapped the soft blue tissue. It was a book. A very old and very special book. My heart started thumping hard as I realized precisely what Ethan had given me. “Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems by John Keats?” I choked out in complete shock.
“Do you like it?” Ethan’s expression was hesitant and I realized he might have struggled over this gift, unsure about whether or not I’d enjoy it. An early edition Keats had to cost a fortune, and this one was an early edition. Bound in green leather and still bearing faint gold embossed lettering on the spine, it was a work of art to me.
“Oh my god! Yes, you could say that, baby. This is a beautiful, magnificent gift. I’ll cherish it always.” I carefully opened the cover and held it up to one of the garden lamps to see. “There’s an inscription. ‘For my Marianne. Always, your Darius. June 1837.’ ” I brought a ha
nd up to my neck and looked over at Ethan. “It was a lover’s gift. Darius loved Marianne, and gave her the book.”
“As I love you,” he said softly.
“Oh, Ethan. You’re going to make me cry again if you keep doing things like this.”
“Well, I don’t mind your tears, really. I never have. And especially when they’re not sad ones. You can cry happy anytime you want, baby.” He leaned down to touch his forehead to mine. “I adore the taste of your tears,” he said before pulling back.
I touched his cheek and whispered, “I love you too. And you give me far too expensive gifts.”
“Never, baby. I’d give you the world if I could. You never ask for anything. You’re so generous with yourself and you humble me with your spirit. I’m in awe of you most of the time. It’s true.” He nodded to emphasize his words. “I’m not lying.”
“Now it’s my turn to ask you if you’re real.”
His eyes roamed over me as he nodded again. “I think I became real when I met you.”
My heart dropped down to the cobblestones beneath my feet when Ethan got up from the bench and knelt in front of me. He took my hands in his.
“I know I’m a bit rough around the edges and I know I’ve trampled my way into your life, but I do love you with all my heart. Never doubt that. You’re my girl, and I want you and I need you with me forever. I would have wanted a future with you regardless. The baby coming is just more of a sign that this is right. We’re right, my beauty. We’re so right together.”
I couldn’t speak, but I agreed with him. We were so right together.
All I could do was look into his beautiful eyes and fall more in love with everything that was Ethan Blackstone. My amazing man.
The paths we take in life are never clear, and nobody can predict the future, but the night I laid eyes on Ethan, I knew there was something special about him. When I went to his flat that first time to be with him, I knew. I knew the decision would be life-changing too. For me it had been. He was everything I could have ever dreamed of in a partner, and even more about him that I never could have possibly imagined. Timing is always off. You deal with what comes, when it comes into your life.
Ethan was simply . . . the one for me. I squeezed his hands with mine. It was the only response I could give, considering my heart was beating so fast I felt sure I would float away if he wasn’t holding on to me.
“Brynne Elizabeth Bennett, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me? Be my wife and the mother of our children.” He tilted his head and whispered the rest. “Make me real. Only you can do that, baby. Only you . . .”
“Yes.” I nodded fast.
I don’t know how I managed to even respond with that one little word. I heard myself speak it aloud, but all I could really do was look at him. Look down at him kneeling before me and feel the love he was pouring out back to me. There was so much more I could have said, but I didn’t. I wanted to just be in the moment and remember how I felt when Ethan asked me to make him real.
I understood what he meant when he said that to me. I understood it because I shared the same feelings about him. He’d brought me out from the dark and into the light. Ethan had given me back my life.
Something cold and heavy slipped onto my finger. When I looked down to see what it was, the most gorgeous ring was perched on the fourth finger of my left hand. Antique ornate and huge—a hexagonal, deep-purple amethyst, set in platinum with diamonds, glittered up at me. I held it in the glow of the garden light so I could really get a good look. It was magnificent, beautiful and far too extravagant for me, but I loved it mostly because Ethan had chosen it. My hand shook and the tears started. I couldn’t have stopped them for anything. It was a good thing he’d just said he didn’t mind my tears because they would be dripping all over him in another moment.
These were definitely of the joyful variety, though.
“I-I want to m-marry you. I d-do. I love you so much, Ethan.” My words came out on a sob. I just was so overcome by him I could hardly absorb everything, and I’m sure my state of hyper-hormonal didn’t help either.
Ethan picked up my hand and kissed it, the familiar brush of his goatee paired with his warm lips comforted me in a way that I couldn’t describe with words. He just made me feel cherished, and he always had. I belonged to him now, and I was embracing the realization with open arms. It had taken me a bit of time to make it, but I’d gotten there. I had accepted Ethan’s love and offered to him my whole self in return. Finally.
I never knew it was possible to be so happy in life.
♥ Whiskers teased my flesh. A hot tongue flicked over my nipple, swirling it into a tight, tingly bud. I arched into his mouth and moaned a luxurious sound of pleasure, which only seemed to spur him on. Somebody was wide awake and intent upon making me come before breakfast. The very best way to start my day.
My eyes fluttered open and locked onto his, my waking like a signal light giving the go-ahead to drive on through. I loved waking up to Ethan like this. His weight pressing me down, his hips settled in tight between my legs, his hands pinning mine to the bed. He flared his eyes as his cock filled me up with a determined slide. I voiced my pleasure and arched up to meet as much of him as possible. He just took my mouth with his tongue and found another part of my body to claim.
It was good to be claimed by Ethan. So good.
He moved slow and steady, building the rhythm up with deep thrusts that ended with a little grind each time he swiveled his hips. I squeezed my inner muscles hard around him, knowing it would help him along and get me to my release that much faster. I was greedy for it these days.
“Not yet, baby. You gotta wait this time,” he rasped down at me, “I’m coming with you, and I’ll tell you when.”
I felt him roll us quickly, settling me on top, but he wasn’t content for me to ride him like that. Ethan hefted himself up to sitting position and clutched me hard at the hips so he could maneuver me over his cock, bringing me down very deep with each plunge, our faces within inches of each other’s as our bodies connected. He could see everything written in my eyes; how much I loved him, how much I needed him, how much I wanted him.
“Ooooh, God . . .” I shuddered, trying desperately to control the crash about to consume me, knowing it was impossible because Ethan was a master at giving it to me. He was a master at directing the sex too. His dominant nature came out in full force, controlling when I could orgasm. He would make me wait sometimes. Today was one of those times. I had no worries about the eventuality of where he would take me, though. The waiting just made what was coming at the end so much better.
“You feel like heaven down on my cock,” he said, his lips finding mine again, silencing any more words for the moment. “So wet for me . . . and your tight cunt squeezing me. I love your cunt, baby.” I waited for this part of the ritual—the dirty talk from him. Nothing could get me hotter than the stuff that came out of his mouth. Well, maybe what he actually did with his mouth. And his cock. Ethan could get away with saying “cunt” and not make it sound nasty. The word didn’t hold the same meaning among Brits anyway. It wasn’t the horrific slur here that it was back home. Ethan’s erotic ramblings made me insane with lust.
I took him in and let him have me, the merging of our tongues only gaining in intensity as he drilled into me with his cock from below, my movements controlled by him, lifting and dropping me over and over again down onto his swelling shaft. I felt him get harder and prayed for the end to swallow me.
“Please . . .” I begged on a whimper that he swallowed up with his mouth and tongue.
“Does my beauty want to come?”
“Yes, I want to so badly!”
I felt his hands leave my ass where he’d been guiding me and move up to pinch my nipples. “Say my name when you do.”
The sharp sting bit into me, breaking the huge wave of sensation I’d
been holding back, allowing the crash to happen. “Ethan, Ethan, Ethan . . .” I chanted, collapsing forward onto him, no longer able to rein in my body. Everything became involuntary for me after that, but I was aware of him climaxing. I heard his harsh groans and I felt the heat of the spurts of cum shooting deep inside me, reminded me that this was how we’d started our baby. Just like this. Our bodies connecting in a wicked frenzy until nirvana occurred and nothing else mattered.
He held me up, his hips grinding slowly to work the very last ounce of pleasure out of this encounter. I purred against his chest and never wanted to move. Ever.
“Well, good morning to you, Mrs. Blackstone,” he said on a soft laugh.
“Mmmmm . . . it was, wasn’t it?” I moved over his hips, and flexed around his cock, still semi-hard inside me. “I’m not Mrs. Blackstone yet.”
He gasped in a breath, “Easy there, my beauty, don’t kill me off before I can make an honest woman of you.”
I laughed. “I think I’m more in danger of that than you are. God, you do crazy things to me.” I nuzzled his lips and nose, loving our time together and the knowledge that Ethan was all mine for the next little while until he had to leave for work.
He was so stretched with the Olympics and working so hard, I was determined to help him in any way I could. Giving him some mind-blowing sex to start off his day was one way, and I got to share in the benefits of that too.
“I love doing crazy things to you. I love you.” He kissed me sweet and slow. “And you’ll be Mrs. Blackstone soon enough, so you might as well get used to me saying it.”
“Okay. I think I can do that for you.” I splayed out my left hand and looked at my ring again, the dark purple stone looking almost black in the dull morning light. “And I love you too.” It still shocked me a little seeing it there on my hand. I was engaged to Ethan, and we really were getting married. And I really was having his baby. When did the bottom drop out from beneath me? I had to keep telling myself this was not a dream.
