by Brynn Paulin
Leaving him to his work, Emily took off for the beach. She supposed she should get out her laptop and do some work as well, but the ocean called her and until she indulged her need to let nature reinvigorate her soul she wouldn’t be able to focus. Her purse was still on the coffee table where Alec had left it the day before, and she dug through it, finding a pair of sunglasses before heading out to the water. The cold waves eddied around her bare feet as she ambled along without paying attention. Her thoughts were consumed with Alec and the revelations of the past day—had it only been a day? So much had happened.
Was he right? Was this meant to be? She still had trouble acclimating herself to a past life influencing this one. Alec said he knew her, but how could she be sure he wasn’t really infatuated with Emma the paragon of virtue from the past. A knot twisted at the possibility that she’d be forever trapped in an Emma-or-Emily cycle. Why couldn’t she have met Alec with out all the other baggage?
She almost didn’t notice when an old bottle knocked up against her ankle. It was so beautiful here, it ticked her off that someone would litter by tossing garbage like this in the ocean. She scooped it up, intending to throw it away when she returned to the castle. The instant she touched it, a jolt railed through her.
Ailig. Throwing a bottle in the ocean. Walking to his death.
The vision hit her hard and she reeled backward, landing on her bottom on the damp beach. The pictures flashed before her like a slow motion film, each desperate moment piercing her heart. When the waves finally covered Ailig, her sight cleared and she again stared at empty ocean. Tears streamed down her face. Swiping at them, she reluctantly looked down at the bottle, trepidation filling her. Please don’t be that bottle. Please…
But she knew it had to be.
Something was inside. Paper. Something else. It rattled slightly against the glass as she moved her wrist. Lifting her arm and peering into the bottom of the bottle, she saw the distorted image of the necklace she’d seen in her dreams. The one she’d written about. The one Alec had shown her in his journal.
A choked cry tangled in her throat. She dropped the vessel in the sand beside her, pulling up her legs and burying her face in her knees. If she had this, she’d never be free of Emma. Whenever Ailig looked at her, he’d think of the woman he’d been married to eight hundred years ago—Ailig! Now she was twisting time, too!
Leaping to her feet, she yanked up the bottle and ran back to the water. She couldn’t keep this. She wouldn’t. Pulling back her arm, she flung Ailig’s message as far into the ocean as she could.
Alec wasn’t Ailig. She hadn’t known him long, but like Alec knew her, she felt the same. She knew him better than she’d ever known any man. He truly cared for her, patiently leading her through the BDSM they shared, giving her exactly what she’d longed for deep inside her. He was responsible, in business, in his relationship with family, in how he tended her during and after their sexual encounters.
In reading his journal, she’d seen his deep thoughts. In his dealing with Vi, she saw a fondness that warmed her.
And as commanding as he could be as a Dom, he didn’t hide his affection. It made him the perfect match for her needs. She didn’t want a man who emotionlessly led her through bondage and discipline. She needed to know in the end that she meant something to this man. Alec left her no doubt.
But couldn’t Ailig have been all those things? Perhaps…
Her arms around her middle, she continued down the beach trying to unshackle Alec from Ailig. Unfortunately, the more she pulled, the more they tangled.
Damn it! What were the chances of the bottle with that necklace ending up on the same beach eight-hundred years after it was tossed in the ocean? The way her life was going. About a one hundred percent chance.
Turning back towards the castle, she followed her original steps. The waves had washed over them, blurring them, but she could still see impressions of the original steps. Just as she could still feel impressions of the original life.
The crash of glass snapped her attention to the water. Even without looking she knew what she’d see. The bottle had crashed against the rocks. Without a thought, she rushed out to it, grabbing the necklace and parchment before the next wave washed them away.
When she again stood on the beach, the message in one hand, the necklace in the other, she stared blackly out at the water. The bottle had survived eight hundred years and now it broke? What the hell? Why the hell do you think?
She scowled. “You are not doing this to me,” she railed at fate. “I’m making my own decisions.”
And her first decision was to get the hell out of here before fate—or the past—decided to dictate any more of her future.
* * * *
Something was wrong.
Alec dropped his pen on the desk and sat up, his shoulders rigid. Emily… He shot to his feet racing from the tower. Even as he entered the main hall, he knew he was too late. She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t in trouble—though she might be when he got his hands on her. She had left. Without a word.
His distraught gaze fell to the table where her purse had been and he sank to his knees.
The necklace.
A stone that's blessed by lover’s hands
To bless the wearer with a love that stands.
Through time and toil, no stopping fate
As lovers united, no hand can break.
So take this token and wear it true,
Destiny awaits with love for you.
A favour I ask from you to me
Once blessed return my gift to the sea.
For others await the hand of fate
My blessing to love's true mates.
Ailig Bennett December 1264.
The stone had returned to him. A lot of good it was. Gypsy blessings and fate were as good as bubble gum prizes. Worthless. She was his for eternity? Ordained by the stars. Yeah right.
His love was once again gone.
Chapter Four
Five minutes after Emily had left the castle, she’d started trembling. Now after quickly gathering her things and making a nearly two hour drive into Liverpool, she still shook as she sat in the waiting areas of the Liverpool John Lennon Airport and waiting for her flight to Paris which would in turn take her to Chicago. She’d barely been able to speak when she’d returned her rental car to Hertz.
Trying to relax she took deep breaths. Everything would be okay. This was just reaction to leaving so quickly. So why did she feel so hollow? After two days, she shouldn’t be so attached.
She closed her eyes, running her hand over the back of her neck.
Why exactly was she running? Because she couldn’t spend the rest of her life being shoved in a slot created by Emma. Even if it fits? What are you afraid of Emily?
Afraid of? She wasn’t afraid of anything. Except being taken again. Didn’t she have an irrational fear of most strangers—something she’d never felt with Alec. He was safety and the fear she’d had since childhood hadn’t been there.
And the fear of dying early. Fear of losing someone you love. Isn’t that why you won’t commit?
Emily wished her inner voice would just shut up. She didn’t just fear losing just anyone anymore. It was Alec. What if she let herself become attached to him and they were ripped apart? Again. Yes, again. She couldn’t fight that reality anymore. So much of what had formed her and made her what she was today was because of what Emma had endured. What she was today was what Emma would have become if she’d somehow survived. She would have been stronger, more suspicious, fearing the death that had almost taken her.
She needed to get over that one. Emily pressed her lips together. There was no escaping death, but there was no need to think it lingered on her doorstep.
Maybe if she reminded herself of that often…
Hopefully, Alec wouldn’t care if she saw a therapist, because she had a feeling she might still need one to overcome her phobias. She bit her lip. She’d have to find one who dealt with past
lives. She wouldn’t fire this one.
So that was her decision then. If she got lucky, Alec wouldn’t think she was a complete psycho and slam the door in her face.
She stared at the airport motto printed on a poster—Above Us Only Sky. Suddenly, it was as if a door had opened. She and Alec had only the future before them. Nothing loomed over them. The tragedy of the past didn’t have to be the mistakes of today. She’d already lost him once. She wasn’t going to be the catalyst in losing him again.
Steeling herself for the confrontation she was sure to have, she stood gathering her carry-on case and her laptop. Hopefully Hertz would have another car she could rent.
* * * *
Alec’s fist smashed onto his desk, sending the necklace skittering across the surface. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to work. Their destiny might be fated, but Emily needed to choose him. She still had free will.
“Darling, calm down.”
He ignored his mother as she lounged in the doorway of his office, her arms crossed as she watched him.
“I am calm, Mum,” he said as he balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear. With every minute he was on hold, his tension rose until he was ready to break. Redirecting his attention, he lifted the dried parchment from Ailig’s note and placed it inside the history book he’d shown Emily. Then he snatched up the necklace and shoved it in his pocket.
“Why don’t you go after her?”
“I’m trying to—”
The scheduler finally came back on the line, babbling about cost, visas and connections to the United States. Alec glanced at Emily’s author biography on her website. She lived in Chicago. “I don’t care how much it costs. I need the soonest flight you can get me to Chicago.”
He’d spent the last hours, getting his papers in order and figuring out where Emily would have gone. Home. He’d debated with himself. She had to decide on her own to be with him.
He’d wait.
That had lasted five seconds before he’d decided to give her a push. A bloody metaphorical kick in the pants. Then he might spank her. He’d have to calm down first…
And she’d like that, too. Bloody BDSM.
Movement on the security monitor across from his desk caught his eye. Standing, he stared at the black and white feed of the front courtyard. “Never mind,” he growled into the phone.
Emily had just climbed out of a car.
“Praise God,” Vi muttered, following his shocked stare. She stepped aside as he tore past her. “I’ll be scarce for a bit,” she called. “Let my new daughter-in-law come down to dinner later.”
If she could sit. “Mum. Aren’t you assuming a lot?”
“She came back Alec. Don’t be a clot.”
He met Emily at the doorstep, before she’d rung the bell. Without a word he heaved her over his shoulder, leaving her bags on the doorstep.
“Alec!” she shrieked.
“Silence,” he commanded with a smack to her ass.
Stomping through the house, he headed for the tower.
“Neanderthal,” Emily muttered and received another smack. Her quiet moan didn’t escape him. Neither did the scent of her escalating desire.
“Hullo, Emily. Welcome back,” Vi called from the couch where she pretended to be engrossed in a magazine. He didn’t give Emily a chance to reply.
“You’re very fit,” she commented. “You know…dragging me up all those stairs and all,” she quipped when he dumped her on the bed. He stared at her for a moment, just so glad to see her. Calling on the reserve he used as a Dom, he kept his face emotionless. Grasping her hands, he clamped her hands together in cuffs at the headboard, then captured her feet in shackles attached to each post at the foot of the bed.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he silently looked down at her as his brain kicked back into gear. She had Neanderthal right. She’d come back and he’d gone all caveman, dragging her to his lair and locking her down. She belonged here, but he didn’t want to chain her to make her stay.
She didn’t look overly put out, though. In fact, she was grinning her happiness as bright as a cloudless summer day. “You have a problem, my lord,” she laughed. “I’m still completely dressed.”
He’d work around it. He allowed a slight scowl to enter his expression.
Her smile faded. Her lip trembled. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
“And…?”
“I’ve never done long term. I don’t know if I can. But…I want to try. I want to be with you. I mean…you’ve never mentioned—”
“Of course, I want a relationship,” he interrupted. “I know we’re meant to be.” Caving, he lightly trailed his fingers along her jaw, cupping her cheek. “Remember? Love at first sight.”
“But you said Vi and Max—”
“And me. You and I.”
She swallowed, and he saw the self doubt enter her eyes.
“You can, Emily. All you have to do is say yes. I’ll help you with the rest. I’ve always been right here waiting for you.” He pulled the necklace from his pocket. “We can throw this back into the ocean if you want or put it in our safe.”
“I want it. Emma and I have come to terms. Sort of. I still have my hang ups.”
With a nod, he sat on the bed beside her. The necklace weighed heavy in his hand, containing his heart and his promises to her. “I’ll help you through them. We can do this, love. You’ve done eight hundred years. We both have. I think we can manage seventy more or so. And then eternity.”
Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt and pushed open the edges. Her front-closured bra opened under his fingers and he folded it back as well, revealing her taut nipples. The necklace settled between her breasts. His fingers closed around it, holding her close as he kissed her.
Emily groaned as Alec explored her mouth, his kiss claiming all of her. This wasn’t a careless kiss. It wasn’t a prelude to casual sex. Alec was claiming her. He meant to possess her—not just for a few days but for life.
And for the first time, she was okay with that. Nothing screamed “run!” inside her.
Alec ran a hand beneath her skirt, hiking the garment to her waist and baring her. He cupped her ass. “No panties. We don’t have such a problem after all.”
“As you commanded, my lord.”
He squeezed her buttock and a flood of arousal filled her pussy as she reacted. Heat flowed through her at the reality of being chained to Alec’s bed. At his command. For his pleasure. He knew exactly how to arouse her best.
His fingers slid along her drenched slit, catching her cream. “And did you think of me?”
“Constantly.”
“You deserve to be punished for running instead of talking with me about your fears.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“And we need to work on your vocabulary. For an author you have a poor command of the meaning of silence.”
She pressed her lips together and thrust her breasts towards him, hoping he’d get the meaning of her need and her supplication without her words. He could punish her however he liked—she knew he wouldn’t harm her—but she needed him to fuck her and show her their unity.
Alec climbed between her knees. She heard his zipper lower then felt his cock against her folds. His tip pushed through the cream coating her as he tormented her sensitised flesh without entering her.
“Tell me what you want, love.”
She yanked on the chain holding her hands. “Fuck me, Alec. Please. I need to feel you. I need you to suck my breasts. Bite my nipples.”
Leaning forward, he caught one peak between his teeth, tugging the flesh while he flicked it with his tongue. She gasped, writhing beneath him. But he didn’t enter her. Even as he repeated the motion with the other aroused bead.
“Please, my lord,” she begged.
“Good girl.” Slowly, he pushed his cock inside her weeping sheath, reclaiming the passage which would be only his. “Oh, God, Em…”
She stared into his eyes, seeing her relea
se building in his gaze, his determination to take her there, his resolution to make her fully his and to keep her forever. Smiling, he lowered his head again and his teeth scored down the side of her breast. She clenched all over, goose bumps racing down her body. Her channel squeezed around his cock and she fought against the chains trying to take him deeper.
“Poor, love,” he murmured with a smile as she struggled. “Does the fight turn you on? I can feel it does. I’ll take you there. I’ll always take you there.”
“Oh please…” she begged, flame licking at her pelvis and filling her womb. Tiny trails burned up to her breasts and into her nipples. She writhed, pleading with him. Her fingers tangled in the sheet, her toes clawing at air and unable to push into the mattress to lift her.
“You hurt me when you left, Emily.”
Wordlessly, she nodded. Her eyes squeezed shut as she reached the pinnacle of climax. He kept her perched there, bound, unable to jump on her own.
“I won’t speak of it again,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Do you understand that? Mine.”
She bobbed her head. “Yes. Okay. Yes. Please, my lord…”
“Love, look at me.”
She opened her eyes, wondering why she wasn’t coming yet. What more did she have to say?
“Do you understand?” he asked emphatically.
Everything inside her paused. This wasn’t just sex talk.
A streak of sensation, purely from his words, pulsed across her clit and pushed her one step closer to release. She swallowed, trying to form words instead of the cries tumbling in her throat.
“I understand, my lord Alec. Yours.”
“Mine,” he whispered, ploughing forward. Hard. He reached between them, catching her clit with his fingers, rubbing it, pulling it, pinching it until she went screaming over the edge of her climax. Stars shot behind her eyelids as she arched beneath him, her body a rigid bow of pleasure. Distantly, she heard him cry out as he too found release.
