Almost Gothic [Suncoast Socitey] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  He groaned. “M’lady has my oath,” he said in character. “This knight obeys his Lady’s word.”

  Yeah, she wasn’t going to make him wait long. She loved it when he did that, talked like that, and not even the goofy but halfway decent British accent could kill her mood.

  She loved it when he deferred to her like that, which was nearly always.

  Except this one time.

  “Let’s eat dinner,” she said. “Then I’ll take care of my knight.”

  He stared down into her face, caressing her cheek. “I love you, Eliza.” He was back to using his normal voice, except he spoke so softly she almost couldn’t hear him. “I mean it. I’m going to wear you down and marry you one day, even if you make me wait decades.”

  She believed him. “Love you, too. I can’t promise you I’m going to want to get married, though.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “And you’ll still wait?”

  He smiled, back to the accent. “A knight doesn’t give up on his lady that easily, ma’am.”

  Chapter Eight

  Now

  Eliza finally coaxed Rusty up off the floor and into their bathroom to take a shower. She didn’t chastise him for the sunburn, or the scrapes and scratches.

  He’d punished himself enough. He was too damned good at doing that.

  Always had been.

  In the shower he stood with his hands braced against the wall while she tenderly washed every inch of him, not letting him do anything.

  Taking care of him.

  Reminding him she was always here, waiting for him, ready to catch him when he fell.

  Strong enough to hold on to him and help him safely ride out the storms until he felt like he could stand on his own again.

  After their shower, she didn’t even bother taking him back out to the living room. She led him to bed and turned the TV on before curling up under the covers with him. He lay on his side, facing her, his arms around her and head tucked against her chest. His anchor.

  His lighthouse.

  No doubt that these were storms in his soul, worse than any hurricane and every bit as destructive.

  Except…now, maybe, perhaps he could start ridding himself of the demon whose deep roots had long festered in his soul. With Borden dead and gone, could Rusty chop his way out of that mental jungle holding him hostage?

  She wouldn’t bring it up though. Not unless he did first. However he chose to deal with this, that was his call.

  At least now she totally got why Cali had wanted to dump Lydia’s ashes at the beach instead of flushing them, or putting them in Venture’s butt bucket out front, or any other number of ideas she’d been handed by people.

  Gone. Totally gone, nowhere around.

  No reminders in a physical way.

  That’s what she told Ed she wanted to do.

  After a while, there was something else she needed to ask, though. “Do you want me to tell Cali we can’t make it to the R&D party tomorrow night?”

  “No, Ma’am. I want to go.” His soft, shredded voice tore at her heart. He didn’t look at her, either, his head still tucked against her. “How’d today go?”

  “We got a lot done. A lot more than Cali thought we would. Started working on a new toy they’re producing. A beater. Heavy, braided rope, about a foot long, epoxied into a metal pipe handle. Pretty damned wicked. Got over a dozen of those made.”

  “That’s the one you tested on me at their last party?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “I liked that one.”

  Maybe this would be a strange conversation for any other couple, but Eliza felt a modicum of relief creep in. If he was talking like this, it meant he was slowly healing from this latest round.

  Even if their topic of discussion was sadistic implements.

  “Cali’s going to talk to Rebecca about making a chainmaille shirt for Baxter for a photo shoot.”

  He actually snorted, and that made him turn his face so he could look up at her. His handsome green eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red. “Baxter’s going to be even more famous.”

  “Well, she made one for Chewi. I told Cali she should rig up a bondage harness of some sort for Sean while he’s wearing Stumpy.” Stumpy was the inflatable T-Rex costume Max and Cali had purchased for Sean to wear after Eliza got one for Rusty to wear.

  “Because you’re helllpful, Ma’am.”

  “Damn right I am. Then Cali told me Sean had already created a strap-on harness to wear on it.”

  A full-on laugh escaped him. “I bet that was a sight to see.”

  “It was. Cali showed me the pictures.”

  He laced fingers with her and brought her hand to his lips to kiss it. “I love you.”

  Eliza threaded the fingers of her other hand through his hair, gently ruffling it. “I love you, too. You know I do.”

  He tucked her hand against his chest. “Do you ever wish you had a normal guy?”

  “Do you ever wish you had a normal woman?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  His gaze held hers before his eyes closed again. “I love what we have. I love that you were the good girl teacher during the day and the sort of gothic bad girl with me at home. How you used to make me help you get dressed for work by helping you put on your garter belt and stockings, and the lacy black panties and bra that would get me hard watching you wear them, and then sliding on a modest dress or pantsuit over them. Knowing you were doing it on purpose to torture me all day thinking about what you were wearing. Knowing you did it just to fuck with me like that. Knowing I was the only person who knew about it besides you. That you did it for me. I love going to work the day after you’ve beaten my ass and squirming in my chair to feel the cane marks you left on me. I love that I can serve you and you don’t make me feel like less of a man for it. I love that you put up with me. I love that you get me.”

  Eliza pressed her lips to his forehead. “Like Morticia and Gomez.”

  “Kailey said if we wear those costumes one more Halloween she’s going to scream.”

  “Let her. We gave her parents who are still in love with each other three decades later. We can dress up however we damn well want. She probably won’t be home for Halloween this year anyway. What difference does it make?”

  His eyes opened again and he studied her face. “Will it get easier now?”

  She was so used to his thoughts quickly switching tracks that it didn’t derail her. “I don’t know, sweetie. I can’t answer that for you. I wish I could. Doesn’t matter, because I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I think I’ve proven that.”

  Rusty went quiet for several minutes. “I wish I could stop being angry. Mom had to work so fucking hard all the damn time. He should have been there to support us, not…”

  She didn’t interrupt, waiting him out.

  “I shouldn’t have been put into that position as a kid, and I don’t even mean just what he did. I mean having to raise Corey because she was working her ass off. Your parents were there for us. Even after Mom died, I couldn’t call him and say, ‘Hey, I really need to focus on my studies, can you come over here or let Corey stay with you tonight?’ None of that could happen because of what he was.”

  Nuzzling his temple, she kept quiet, let it spill out of him the only way it could. If she interrupted him now, he might not get it out.

  “Motherfucker,” he muttered. “Hope there is a hell and he’s rotting in it.”

  * * * *

  Was he a lucky man?

  In the cosmic scheme of things, yeah, he was. He got it. Rusty knew he couldn’t change the past, but Eliza had, no shit, kept him sane and held together. He would have likely drunk himself to death without her. Never could have survived what he’d been through without her walking beside him.

  Putting up with him.

  She could have had her pick of men, and for whatever crazy reason, she loved him.

  It pissed him off he couldn�
��t pull himself out of this tailspin with a few snarky comments and turning his back to the past. But he couldn’t.

  The past made him.

  The past nearly broke him.

  The past was there, not going anywhere, no matter how much he wanted to forget it even existed.

  “Is Ed going to handle everything?” he eventually asked.

  “Everything.”

  He slowly nodded. “Hold off on getting rid of his ashes.”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “I want to decide how to do it. Not keeping them. Get the cheapest-ass urn or whatever is available. Put them in a fucking coffee can, for all I care. But I don’t want to tell you to get rid of them and then regret not being part of it later.”

  She nuzzled his head. “Whatever you want, sweetie. Are you going to tell Corey?”

  “He doesn’t have any use for him, either.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  He thought about it. “I don’t know yet. He’s got enough on his plate.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He nuzzled his face in the valley between her breasts and deeply inhaled. Sometimes, he watched their poly friends playing together at the private parties and idly wondered what it’d be like to be in a dynamic like that.

  Except the past would slap him in the face and he knew a harmless sexual fantasy was totally different than seriously thinking about giving up perfection.

  He was many things, but a stupid man he was not. He even had a doctorate to prove it.

  No way he’d ever give up what he had with Eliza, or fuck it up by doing something stupid like wanting to disturb the perfect balance they already had with their dynamic.

  And he wasn’t much of a sharer.

  Eliza soothed his soul. Their mutual forays into the sweetly dark, devious, and depraved gothic halls of their dynamic left him feeling peace. A peace he’d never felt anywhere else, and couldn’t imagine feeling with anyone else.

  Eliza stroked the back of his head as he started nibbling along the swell of her breasts. When her grip in his hair tightened, almost painfully, he froze, waiting.

  Always waiting.

  She eased his head over to her left breast, allowing him to flick his tongue out and tease her nipple.

  A soft, gentle sigh escaped her. “Yeah, like that, baby.”

  He wrapped his lips around her nipple and lightly teased it, gently sucking, waiting for more direction. Tonight he was happy to be hers, to be used by her, hopefully rewarded for his service to her.

  Was he horny?

  Uh, duh. She had to know it from the way his hard cock rubbed against her leg, but he wouldn’t push yet. Not now.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight he needed his Ma’am. Her strength, her love.

  Her.

  He’d take what she gave him, happy for it. Because she took care of him and kept him sane.

  She curled her body closer to him, hooking a leg over his and slowly rocking her hips against his thigh in that sultry way that made his cock painfully ache and throb and want to be buried inside her. The way she slid her pussy along his thigh, rubbing.

  Using him for her pleasure.

  It always melted his heart in good ways.

  After a few minutes of him teasing her left nipple, she moved his head to her right and he repeated the treatment. He knew what she wanted, a long, slow, sweet build-up until the point she could ride his cock, or maybe his face.

  Either way, he was good with that.

  When her fingers closed around his cock and started slowly stroking, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to start humping her hand. He hadn’t been given permission to do that. She ground her clit against his thigh and he started feeling his skin grow slick from where her juices flowed.

  Breathe.

  Sometimes she deliberately set him up to fail and receive punishment, but only during an actual scene. Not during this, time between them with all his walls and defenses down and open to her.

  “You close?” she asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She released his cock and flipped him onto his back, her strength always surprising him in good ways. He never had to hold back with her. She preferred it when he got rough and she could reciprocate, sexy struggle snuggles that left them both exhausted and sated and smiling.

  Swinging a leg over him, she mounted him, smiling as she slowly impaled herself on his cock. When she pulled his hands from her hips back up to her breasts, he immediately started playing with her nipples, knowing what she wanted and needed. Her cunt felt hot and wet and all he wanted to do was fill her, be hers, let her use his body for her pleasure.

  Holding back was hard, damned hard with her pussy grinding against him, but then she showed him mercy. She reached between her legs to play with her clit and when he felt her climax, every wave of pleasure squeezing his cock threatened to toss him over the cliff with her.

  Once she finished, she smiled down at him. “Barbarian’s choice.”

  He flipped her onto her back, her legs over his shoulders and pressed against her chest as he plunged his cock into her pussy again. He kissed her, fucking her mouth with his tongue even as he fucked her pussy and wondering if he could get her over once more before he came.

  Settling into a rhythm he knew he could maintain, he silently urged her to follow, to join him, to lead him to those sweet, dark halls. This was a tame night for them. There were times an outsider watching them might think they were attacking each other instead of making love.

  Eliza’s nails raked down his back, drawing a hiss from him. He lifted his mouth from hers and spotted the playful look in her brown eyes. “You want to play that game, hmm?”

  He pulled out and flipped her over onto her hands and knees, fucking her again and this time reaching around her and playing with her clit. When he folded his body around her and bit down on the back of her left shoulder, she came, squeezing his cock again.

  “Oh, baby. There you are.” He wasn’t the only masochist between them, although hers was limited only to sexy time, not like he needed. He bit the back of her right shoulder as he continued fucking her, rolling her clit between his fingers, rough, barbarian in the house. She met him thrust for thrust, her hands fisting the covers and a nonstop moan rolling from her. Like this he could fuck her even more deeply while holding back more easily.

  After three more from her, he felt the edges of his stamina fraying. Exhaustion—mental and physical—creeping in and leeching his energy. He grabbed her hips and dug in, fucking her, riding her, surprised when one last small climax rippled through her as he slammed into her and exploded, filling her with his cum and his love and his trust.

  Everything.

  It all belonged to her.

  His pain, his grief, his secrets.

  His need.

  Panting, he didn’t pull out but hooked an arm around her as he flopped onto his side, her body stretched along his. She tucked a foot between his calves, wiggling her ass against him. His face nuzzled perfectly in the crook of her neck, and he breathed in her sweet scent as his pulse slowed and eased.

  “Better, barbarian?”

  He nuzzled the shell of her ear. “Better, Ma’am. Always better with you. Love you.”

  She squeezed his arm, holding it tightly against her. “Love you, too, Rus.”

  Chapter Nine

  Then

  Something seemed to be bothering Rusty all that Saturday, ever since he’d arrived at Eliza’s earlier for them to head to combat practice. They’d taken her car and left his at her house.

  Rus acted growly, broody, quiet, and not at all playful. Except when she asked, he insisted he was fine.

  He acted anything but fine, from the tense carriage of his neck and shoulders, to the way he clenched his jaw…

  To the way he legit tried to beat the crap out of people, until Eliza had to step in and spar with him herself. Otherwise, he risked either hurting someone or pissing everyone off. Three months into the
ir senior year of high school, and while Eliza still wasn’t sure she’d ever want to actually get married, she knew she didn’t want to lose Rusty. She loved him, was in love with him, and he’d never given her a reason to think he wanted anyone but her.

  But today…today he was starting to piss her right the hell off.

  And that wasn’t normal for him.

  During a break she pulled him aside and confronted him. “What’s going on?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

  “This is not a ‘doesn’t matter’ attitude. Do we need to go home?”

  He rolled his neck as he stared out over the field where others were practicing. “No.”

  Over the time they’d dated, she’d started to discover things about Rusty. Not just big things, but little things, too.

  Like when something was bothering him, he’d talk when he was ready, and the harder she pressed and pecked, the longer it’d take him.

  But he never directly lied to her.

  And he would always talk to her. Eventually.

  Still…this felt…bigger. Deeper.

  Far more serious than anything before.

  She needed to know. “Did I do something to upset you? Because if I did, please tell me so we can talk about it, huh?” She took a swig from a bottle of water. It was hotter than hell today, and trying to keep up with Rus and wear him down was making her sweat like crazy.

  Finally, a sigh, a slight slump in his posture. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t.” He pulled her in for a long, sweaty hug. She didn’t care, it was his sweat and even a sweaty barbarian hug was still a great hug. “I love you. I’m sorry I’m a grouch today.”

  “We can skip the party tonight, you know.”

  “I kinda want to go.”

  “In this mood?”

  “It might cheer me up.”

  She’d been kind of hoping they could skip the party, go back to her place, and spend the night watching TV and cuddling. Her parents were out of town, and Corey was camping with friends. Rusty’s mom was working the late shift, so he could be out all night as long as he left her a note. Eliza was used to the no-sex part and had accepted that, but she still craved spending alone time with Rusty, snuggling, or even doing other things that didn’t cross Rusty’s self-imposed line.