Belonging

by Maria Bernard

  Still smiling like a scoundrel at her, he gently spun her skull around so she faced the window. “You don’t want to miss the sights. You’ll be seeing plenty of me soon enough.”

  Oh my, did he just say that? Speechless, and more than a little hot and bothered, Gwen took his advice. She watched the scenery along the Thames as they passed. It was nighttime, but the moon was full and bright. Very much aware of Crispin’s arm around her, and his other hand on her thigh, she tried to take it all in. It was quite captivating and beautiful with the modern architecture alongside the old. They passed the London Eye, the city’s giant ferris wheel and were now approaching the Houses of Parliament. As the river bus pulled in at Westminster Pier, Crispin gave her a squeeze to signal they had arrived at their stop.

  Nearing eleven o’clock, it had gotten significantly cooler and the air by the river was a little damp. But that did nothing to dampen Gwen’s spirits, especially when she reached the top of the steps and was greeted by the sight of Big Ben all lit up against the night sky. Dazzled by the iconic clock tower atop the awe-inspiring Houses of Parliament, Gwen could only grasp Crispin’s hand and stare. And then if the sight weren’t gorgeous enough, it started to chime and she let out a small squeal of delight when the sound resonated throughout her body.

  “Quite something, isn’t it?” Crispin said, equally impressed with the magnificent Gothic structure. “Seriously, I should have been born in this country, such a spectacular Gothic work of art!”

  “If I hadn’t met you before now, I would have assumed you were born here,” Gwen said, looking from him to the jaw-dropping scenery. “Back in the day, of course. You would have fit in perfectly among all this.”

  At her admission, he chuckled and started to walk, hoping to make their way back to the inn before long. They could grab a taxi but the inn wasn’t far and they were both in the mood for a stroll. Quite chuffed under the spell of it all, he tugged her into him as they walked and planted a loud smack of a kiss on her cheek. “Tell me something,” he said when she giggled. “Who exactly am I to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, which character from which of your drippy romance novels am I?”

  She halted in her steps and furrowed her brow, her mind racing. “I don’t read drippy romance novels. I read classic English literature. Victorian Era books such as Wuthering Heights, and Jayne Eyre are my preference. But I suppose, I do enjoy the occasional Regency romance like Jane Austen novels,” she admitted with a fond smile.

  “Oh, is that so? Well, pardon me,” he said with mock indignation. But he was determined to get an answer to his question. “So? Who am I then? Heathcliff, Rochester, Mr. Darcy or Jack the Ripper?” He laughed when she blushed and turned away, obviously embarrassed.

  “Well, not Jack the Ripper,” she answered ruefully. “At least, I hope not.” They soon left the touristy area behind and then turned onto a quieter street lined with Georgian style townhouses on one side. The side on which they walked was flanked by a wrought iron fence.

  “Definitely not that guy,” he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “But you haven’t answered my question.”

  “What question?” She feigned ignorance, but he would not have it.

  “Which one am I?” He stepped in front of her and walked backwards a few steps.

  “Crispin! This is ridiculous.” She giggled, too self-conscious to say anything else. How did he even know she thought of him that way? She hadn’t told him.

  “Come on, don’t act all innocent,” he said, getting a kick out of her bashfulness. “You know exactly what I’m referring to. Besides, I heard you in your sleep. You called me Heathcliff once. A little bit later, I was Mr. Rochester, or was it Edward?” He tapped his chin with his fingers then snapped them. “That’s it, Edward. You called me Edward. Yet again an hour or so later, I somehow travelled through time and became Mr. Darcy.” He smiled at the look of utter disbelief on her face and slowed his steps.

  “What?” she gasped in disbelief. He had to be joking. “I did not! Oh, God, did I really say all that?” She tried to walk around him but he blocked her.

  “And then some,” he added. “And let’s not even get into all the groping I had to endure through it all.”

  “No way!” she sputtered and laughed as a rush of blood filled her cheeks.

  He leaned in real close. “Oh, yes, let’s just say, I had to use every last ounce of willpower not to make your dreams come true while I fucked you in your sleep.”

  At his words, she gasped. But before she could register what happened next, she found herself stuck up against the iron gate, the full force of Crispin’s body pressed against her, her hands up beside her head within the steely grips of his own. “Crispin?” With her heart now pounding in her chest, she stared questioningly into his unreadable expression for all of a second before he claimed her mouth with a relentless, punishing kiss. As if to prove how much he had meant it, he ground his undeniable erection to the apex of her thighs until she called his name again. “Oh, yes, Crispin.”

  “That’s right,” he said with a smile. “The name is Crispin… Mr. Clover if you’d rather.” He followed with a softer almost protective kiss. “Call me by my name and I’ll make your dreams come true so hard, you won’t ever call for those other fuckers in your sleep again.”

  In response, she couldn’t help the giggles from taking hold of her. She didn’t know why she was laughing but the intensity in his voice made her giddy beyond reason.

  “You think I’m joking, do you?” To her relief, he smiled when she gazed up at him.

  “Not at all.” She flexed her fingers where he held them. “I’m looking forward to it, if you must know.”

  “Well then…” He leaned in and purred into her ear. “Why the fuck are we standing around out here?”

  Chapter 19

  To say Gwen was excited would be putting it lightly. To say she was nervous would be a huge understatement. As for her rising anxiety, it was through the roof! Not that Crispin seemed to have noticed and for that Gwen was grateful. She didn’t want him to think she had changed her mind. As nervous as she was, she was ready to go there with him, wherever that might be.

  Upon their return to the Lemon Tree Inn, the second Crispin locked the door to their room, he grabbed her and kissed her so fiercely she couldn’t even remember her own name, let alone worry about anything else. There was no gentleness in that torrid all-consuming kiss, nor tenderness within his imprisoning embrace. Yet oddly enough, she found strange comfort in his arms.

  That little bite at the end, the scrape of his teeth against her bottom lip, followed by a swipe of his hot tongue was what nearly did her in. “Wow, what was that for?” Gwen gasped when he eventually pulled away, pinning her with a challenging glare.

  “To give you a taste of things to come. But before we take this... any further, I need to clarify a few things.”

  “Like w-what?” she asked, placing her fingers on her bruised lips, still reeling from his ferocious kiss.

  “Get yourself together. I’m sure you need a moment. Meet me on the bed when you’re ready.” All she could do was nod as though in a trance. “Good girl, now don’t keep me waiting too long,” he said as he helped her off with her coat. “Oh, and keep your clothes on... for now.”

  Keep my clothes on? Gwen gave her head a shake as she closed the bathroom door behind her. Easier said than done, she thought, washing her hands and rinsing her face with cool water. Being so hot and bothered, all she wanted to do was strip everything off, from her bulky sweater to her passion-soaked knickers. But he’d been rather clear in his instruction and she didn’t want to do anything that might upset him. He had gone hot and cold a few times throughout the day, and right now she wanted him hot and to stay that way.

  She took deep calming breaths and tried her best to keep her heart from racing, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw him looking at her as he had just now and her highly sensitized body refused
to be told what to do. Not by her, anyway. For a moment, she wondered exactly what it was they needed to clarify. Crispin had been quite serious about whatever that was, so it must be important. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything weird or too complicated. Maybe he simply wanted to talk about safe sex or something. As she straightened herself up and attempted to steady her shaking knees, she took one last breath before leaving the bathroom.

  In Gwen’s absence, Crispin took a good look around their uninspiring bedroom, the whole time dreaming up ways he could use it to his advantage. The coat hook behind the bathroom door looked promising. If he had known this trip would turn into what it was clearly about to become, he would have come prepared. Staring at the hook, he thought about his black box of toys hidden underneath his ornate iron frame bed at the House of Goths. He then turned to the bed in their current room and scowled at the useless solid wood headboard. What the fuck was the point of that?

  Making the most of it, he turned off all the lights, with the exception of the lamp on the far bedside table. At the sound of Gwen’s return, he turned in her direction and fought to control himself just a wee bit longer. When she stood there, staring at him with those eyes of blue-grey as if awaiting instruction, he couldn’t help but smile. This was going to be easier than ever. Every second spent with her, assured him of the fact. Even still, he would never assume it. Therefore before anything could happen, they had to talk.

  Without further ado, he took her by the hand and drew her close. He then sat her down on the edge of the bed. He could sense she was nervous and in need of reassurance. Unable to resist, he ran his hands down her hair and cupped her face between his palms. When she smiled at him, he winked before excusing himself.

  In the bathroom, he very slowly removed his shirt, button by button, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. He needed to do this right. It was first and foremost in his mind. He had been in this situation countless times. Most of them went well, others not so much. Yet tonight, this was the first time, he actually cared and needed it to go well.

  ***

  Crispin didn’t miss it when Gwen flinched as he re-entered the bedroom. Yet from the heady look on her face when she gazed at his bare chest it was obvious she was already halfway there. Approaching with calculated steps, he drew her legs up onto the bed so she sat cross-legged. He then hopped up and sat in a similar fashion, facing her.

  “So then, young miss, shall we discuss?”

  “I was hoping we could talk later,” she blurted, running her eyes over him. Seriously, she couldn’t take much more. It had taken all her willpower not to grab him. The only thing that had stopped her from doing so was the fear of his reaction. He hadn’t liked it when she grabbed onto him earlier.

  “Aren’t you brave?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “I’m as surprised as you are.” She laughed nervously. “Honestly, I’m not very brave at all. You should know that by now. I’ve never been so at ease with anyone else before. Which is weird, really. There’s just something about you I trust.”

  “So you’ve said. And I’m hoping it’s true, because what I wish to discuss greatly involves trust.”

  “Well, I’m here with you now, aren’t I? Would I have followed you, come here with you, would I be here with you now if I didn’t trust you?”

  “True, but you need to know that while I’m quite taken with you in return, before we fuck…” He paused, scraping his teeth across his lip, punctuating his point with a quirk of an eyebrow, “you need to know what you’re getting into. Understand?”

  “No, you got me there. I don’t quite understand. What am I getting into?”

  “Let’s start with this... I’m not much into vanilla sex. Understand my meaning?” He looked her right in the eye, reading her reaction. When she nodded, he continued. “If that’s what you want from me we’ll stop this right now and go back to being merely travel companions. No harm no foul.”

  “Oh... you mean... you’re into BDSM? Wow... I hadn’t seen that coming.”

  “How much do you know about BDSM?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Not a whole heck of a lot. Only what I’ve read about in popular fiction, and maybe a little of it in movies.” In response, he huffed and rolled his eyes.

  She frowned at him. “You did ask.”

  “Fair enough,” he said with a nod. “Now do us both a favour and forget it all. Put it out of your mind.”

  Gwen knitted her brow, confused. “So, are you into BDSM or not?”

  “Let me clarify it for you first. BDSM stands for three separate or intermingled things. Bondage and Discipline, Domination and Submission, Sadism and Masochism.”

  “All that, huh?”

  “Not always together, or all the time, or in every case. Bear with me, Gwen. It’s not as bad as it sounds. You see, you only need to concern yourself with me, and in my case, I’m more about the B, the D, and perhaps a little S on your part. The rest of it I haven’t the slightest interest in.

  “So, Bondage?” He nodded. “What does that mean?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. I want to tie you up and fuck your brains out.”

  “Whoa... will it hurt? Is it dangerous? Are you dangerous?”

  “Of course not. I haven’t killed a lady yet, not in a bad way, if you get my meaning.”

  At that, she laughed even if only out of sheer nervousness. Just how many partners had he had? She had no doubt, he’d been with plenty of women before now. The gorgeous Goth reeked of experience. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if all his sexual experiences involved this darker element.

  “Still with me?” he asked, stirring her from her thoughts. “Go on, ask me anything.”

  “Which D?” she asked cautiously.

  He smiled as if pleased with her question. “Domination... it goes along with Submission. I need to be in control.”

  Gwen nodded, concentrating on the facts. So far, from what he said, he only meant to restrain her. It kind of made sense. As it was, he didn’t like to be touched or held. Perhaps this was how he dealt with it. If she were restrained, she couldn’t hold him. The thought suddenly made her sad. Looking at him now, all she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and run her fingers through his wavy dark hair. Her fingers itched to explore every ridge and divot of his smooth chest, to trace the intricate tattoos on his shoulders.

  “Talk to me.” He drew her out of her thoughts again.

  “Not the other one then?” she asked, nervously toying with her fingers.

  “Discipline?” With a reassuring hand on her knee, he slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’ll be necessary, especially in your case. Such a good girl you are.” He smiled when she sighed with relief. Pleased, he took her hand in his and ran his thumb over the bracelet she held so dear. “Gwen, if you go there with me, you’ll soon learn how kind a master I can be. I promise to look after you, to take good care of you. All I’m after is control. And you said so yourself, you like that about me.”

  It was true and she nodded in response. She felt safe when he took charge. From the moment on the plane, then on the train and more recently that morning. If all he wanted was control, she had no problem with that. What exactly that meant, though, she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to find out.

  “So, do I have to sign a contract?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He laughed and shook his head. “A verbal agreement is all I need.”

  At the return of his sense of humour, Gwen felt her anxieties lighten. “Oh, well, just so you know, I’d be okay with a little biting,” she whispered excitedly.

  “So playful, I like that.” Unable to resist, he leaned forward and nipped at her lips. “But this isn’t the time for playing around. There’ll be plenty of that later, once you agree. So, what do you say? Are you interested?”

  She had to admit, at first, she had been apprehensive but now not so much. Breaking it down like that had put a whole new light on the situation. She had no desire to be punished, tortured or humili
ated. Yet handing over total control did make her more than a little nervous. Could she do this?

  “May I offer you something to think about?” He waited until she nodded before making his sales pitch. “I have read that it’s been known to help with some forms of anxiety as it has a great deal to do with trust.” He hadn’t wanted to be so blatant as to use her fears to his advantage but he wanted this so much, he would say or do whatever it took. Yet that didn’t ease the guilt he felt as he spoke the words.

  At the vulnerability in his voice, she smiled tenderly at him. He wanted this to happen. That much was clear to her, and so did she. “Oh, I trust you, Crispin. More than that, I want you. Now more than ever.”

  He could barely contain the joy her declaration caused within his chest. He hadn’t the slightest doubt she’d be the perfect sex partner. Keeping her out of his heart, on the other hand, might prove impossible. It was a risk worth taking, he thought, gazing into her eyes. Even if it killed him.

  “So, is it a go?” He held his breath.

  “Yes, Crispin, it’s a go. Go go go, yes, sir, and please!”

  “Wonderful... now come here.” He leaned forward and they met in the middle, sealing the deal with a kiss.

  “So, how do we do this?” she asked when he drew back, a renewed look of confidence on his handsome face. Gone were all traces of vulnerability. In its place, was a look so wicked, it caused her to shudder.

  “That, my dear, is no longer your concern.”

  Chapter 20

  Unable to hold back any longer, Crispin crawled towards Gwen and tucked his hand around the back of her head under her chestnut hair. He then leaned in and captured her lips with his own. He kissed her long and slow, tangling his tongue with hers. She was nervous, understandably so, and he wanted her to relax more than anything. Her comfort was paramount to making this work. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away. In order to do this right, he had to break her in slowly. When she sighed and moaned, he smiled as he kissed her. His plan was working. Almost too well.