Not caring the temperature was well into the low forties; she followed the garden path lit by the faint luminescence of the night-lights set low along the flagstone edges. Her steps carried her to an ancient oak tree where she sat on the cold, stone bench underneath the low branches with their fall leaves clattering together like dry bones in the whisper of the night breeze.
She growled in frustration. Kiernan had her trapped. She could use her threat of an annulment, and prosecution of her mother, anytime she wanted Ariel to do something. But, what could she do to stop Kiernan?
Ariel couldn’t shut off her racing thoughts. She stared into the darkness, feeling near to tears when thinking about her meeting with Mysha. Then her thoughts replayed her encounter with Kiernan, making her both angry and fearful.
Mysha was now the past, over and done. But Kiernan’s threats of annulling the marriage and prosecuting her mother were immediate, and at any time, Kiernan could use those threats to control her. Ariel wouldn’t put it past her to do that, considering she already had.
Really, what choice did she have? There was only one thing she could do, and do now while her anger at Kiernan bolstered her courage. She would worry about the consequences later.
KIERNAN EXITED THE bathroom, padded across the bedroom floor to her bed, and slipped between the covers, feeling the Egyptian cotton slide silkily across her naked body. She pulled the top covers up to her waist and sank into the puffy goose down pillow. “Computer, lights off.” She closed her eyes and sighed with exhaustion, her mind racing in circles, rewinding and replaying what happened earlier when she confronted Ariel.
A lingering anger nagged her. Not only at Ariel for disregarding her wishes and seeing Mysha, but also with herself for allowing another emotion to control her actions: jealousy, an emotion almost foreign to her. She couldn’t remember when she last experienced it. That others were jealous of her she knew; jealous of her power, her wealth, her appearance, and a host of other things.
She knew Ariel probably still loved or harbored strong feelings for Mysha. After all, no woman could be expected to shut off those feelings in a few weeks. Kiernan couldn’t expect Ariel to feel the same deep emotions about her in such a short time of knowing each other. Did she want Ariel to? Could she feel the same about her? Too tired to analyze what her answer might be, she twisted onto her right side, fluffing her pillow to get more comfortable, when the sound of someone entering her bedroom made her freeze. “Computer, bedside lamp on.”
Shock and astonishment held her frozen as she watched Ariel glide sensually to the side of her bed. Sitting more upright and pulling the covers up over her bare breasts, she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Do you want me to leave?” Ariel’s voice and eyes held a seductive quality, her mouth slightly parted. She slowly let the tip of her tongue touch her top lip.
Before Kiernan could gather her wits and say anything, Ariel opened her robe, letting it fall from her shoulders to slip down her arms and thighs and pool around her feet.
Kiernan gasped as she beheld the absolute perfection of the female body displayed before her. The golden light from the bedside table spilled across full, firm breasts with coral nipples and down the torso tapering to a trim waist that flared to shapely hips supported by long, beautiful legs. Seeing the patch of blonde hair at the juncture of the thighs, Kiernan swallowed. Desire punched her hard in the gut and reverberated in her groin.
Kiernan wet her lips. “Oh my God.” No. This wasn’t right. Right? Wrong? In a voice hoarse with arousal, Kiernan asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“Don’t you want me, Kiernan?” Ariel slid onto the bed, reached out and swiftly took her in her arms to kiss her passionately.
Kiernan couldn’t catch her breath. She tried pushing away, but the sheet slid down her body. Ariel stroked a hand across her breasts and massaged the palm over an already stiff and sensitive nipple.
All reservations vanquished, Kiernan pulsed with desire. Ariel’s touch was liquid fire racing out of control through her body. She pulled Ariel tightly against her, rolling them over until she was on top, and touched her tongue to that dark dot at the corner of Ariel’s mouth that so tantalized her. Moving her mouth to those soft lips and opening them with her tongue, she plundered the sweetness within. Languidly, she moved against Ariel, feeling her breasts press against the bountiful firmness of those beneath her.
Breaking the kiss, she pushed herself up and straddled Ariel’s hips. Her hands hungered to touch Ariel’s breasts, and she stroked down their soft slope, over the coral nipples, and under them, cupping their fullness, lightly squeezing to feel their softness. She moved the palms to cover the nipples, feeling them harden. Her mouth watered with wanting to taste them.
Quickly lowering her head, she eagerly sucked one of the peaks into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. The areola puckered and pebbled, and she opened her mouth more fully to take in the entire nipple, groaning deep in her throat as the taste and sensations sent a current of desire to her groin. Tearing her mouth from the nipple, she returned to Ariel’s lips, kissing them firmly and feeling the press of teeth. Ariel opened her mouth, allowing her once again to plunder the warm interior, the current of desire now intense, making her moisture flow warmly from her core.
Ariel was too passive though, holding her in a weak embrace. More, Kiernan needed more. She wanted to feel Ariel’s hands caressing and stroking her as a lover. Drawing her mouth away from Ariel’s, she whispered hoarsely, “Touch me, Ariel. Make love to me.”
Ariel drew in a sharp breath, then growled angrily. She rolled them over and straddled Kiernan’s waist, took hold of her hands, and pinned them above her head. Savagely Ariel descended on her mouth with a bruising kiss. Kiernan moaned as her arousal rapidly accelerated. Ariel jammed a knee up against Kiernan’s wet core, and the effect was electrifying. Kiernan sucked in her breath.
Ariel tore her mouth away, hot air fanning Kiernan’s face, and said in a voice both raw and menacing, “Make love to you? No, Kiernan, this is all you’ll get from me.” Once again, Ariel savagely descended on her mouth, ravishing her lips and demanding entrance with a forceful thrust of her tongue. A flash of rage struck Kiernan but the force and passion behind the kiss stoked her desire and overrode her anger. Her stomach and groin muscles spasmed and clenched. She tried to remove her hands from the grasp that held them, wanting to pull Ariel fully against her. She wanted to feel Ariel’s heat and softness, the fullness of those luscious breasts pressed more firmly against her own. But the grip on her wrists was too strong.
Ariel broke the kiss and moved her head down, taking an aching nipple in her mouth to suck, tugging at it with her teeth. Kiernan loved the feeling in her nipple being a perfect balance between pain and pleasure that shot down to impact in her center. The beginnings of her orgasm erupted. She knew she soon wouldn’t be able to hold back the impending tidal wave.
Ariel continued to nibble and lick the sensitive nipple, then moved to the other nipple, already hard and puckered, laving it with rough attention. Kiernan needed to free her hands to hold Ariel close to her as she orgasmed. She was so close now. With a gasp of effort, she pulled her hands free from the firm grasp, buried them in the blonde hair, and clutched Ariel tightly against her breast as the wave hit her.
Ariel slid from Kiernan’s body and to her side while continuing roughly suckling and biting her nipple. Then a warm hand was on her stomach, trailing down to the tangle of coarse hair. A gliding touch to her engorged clitoris made her gasp. A finger penetrated her and Kiernan gasped again. A second finger worked into her wet opening. Ariel moved her fingers slowly but forcefully, in-and-out, in a steady rhythm. Kiernan threw her pelvis up against the hand and cried out in a voice strained with passion, “Faster.”
The rhythm increased. Ariel’s palm slapped against Kiernan’s heated flesh. This drove Kiernan toward her release. Her orgasm was building fast, the first wave exploding forth, forcing her to cry out hoarsely. Ariel
did not slow or soften her thrusts, and Kiernan was again pushed into the throes of orgasm. This one was even more intense, making her breathless. Still, Ariel continued until Kiernan said, “Enough.” Ariel did not stop, and Kiernan peaked again. This time the release brought not only pleasure, but also pain. She tried to push Ariel away. “No more.” Kiernan gasped slightly at the removal of fingers from her tender core and the release of her aching nipple from a hot mouth.
Ariel straddled her thigh, placed her hands on each side of Kiernan’s body, and leaned into her arms. Kiernan felt the sensation of the rough brush of hair, and warm, wet flesh stroking along her upper thigh. Ariel increased the pressure and thrusting. Kiernan raised her thigh in rhythm and placed her hands upon the full breasts. She cupped them, rubbing her thumbs over the firm peaks. A feral expression shaded Ariel’s features. Her hair was tousled carelessly around her face and shoulders, her mouth open, and breath harsh. With every thrust of her hips, she expelled a grunt.
Kiernan knew she needed help in her release. Sliding her hands down the slender waist, she placed them on each side of the hips and pulled the straining woman firmly against her thigh. Throatily she coaxed, “Come for me, angel, only for me.” Ariel groaned loudly, her thrusting frantic. “Now, Ariel, come for me,” Kiernan commanded in a husky voice.
This spurred Ariel over the edge. She threw back her head, gulping in a breath, holding it for a moment, and letting it out in a raw growl of release. Feeling a gush of hot wetness from Ariel’s core flow down the sides of her thigh, Kiernan riveted her eyes on Ariel’s face which was suffused with the intensity of her orgasm. Never had Kiernan seen anything so profound as this. Ariel’s features were a sculpture of both rapture and vulnerability. Kiernan held her, feeling the shuddering aftershocks before she stilled, drawing in rasping breaths.
Ariel opened her eyes and gazed down and Kiernan was shocked by the level of bewilderment and hurt she saw. What had Kiernan done to cause that expression? Remorse assailed her that she allowed this to happen—that she wanted this to happen. Replacing the remorse was tenderness drawn forth by the bruised look in Ariel’s eyes. She desired to hold Ariel close against her and feel her heart beat against her breasts and in rhythm with her own heart. She wanted Ariel to know she desired a connection with her beyond the physical. She stroked her hands soothingly down Ariel’s back, seeing the eyes shut.
Ariel collapsed to the side of Kiernan, rolling onto her back, and flung an arm over her eyes.
“Let me hold you,” Kiernan gently said. She put a hand on Ariel’s shoulder, feeling it tense. She leaned over to place a tender kiss on Ariel’s cheek, only to have her twist sharply away and hurl herself off the bed. “Ariel?”
Her back to the bed, Ariel pulled on her robe with agitated motion.
“Ariel, come back,” Kiernan said softly. “I would like to talk to you.”
Ariel tied the robe and spun to face Kiernan, her eyes hot, mouth twisted. “I don’t ever want to hear what you have to say. The marriage is consummated. We are now legally married, and the contract is now in effect. I know the contract grants you conjugal rights. But know this, Kiernan—I will never make love to you—only fuck you.” She swiveled and hurried from the room.
“Ariel, no, come back. Ariel—” Kiernan slid off the bed to follow, but faltered and flung herself back onto her pillow. “Damn, damn, damn!”
Her eyes watered and her throat closed on a sob that led to a further realization. She knew now that she should never have taken her anger and jealousy out on Ariel. She behaved like a bitch— worse than a bitch. Kiernan felt empty, sad, and very alone.
ARIEL ORDERED THE shower on full force. A pulsating stream of compact water, almost stinging, hit her skin. The temperature was on the hot side, as hot as she could tolerate. She wanted to wash away what she’d done, wash the scent of Kiernan’s passion away—and her own. She soaped the washcloth and roughly scoured her skin. When she scrubbed between her legs, she jerked abruptly when the soapy washcloth rubbed her clitoris, still tender from her orgasm. She turned, and put out her arms stiffly, placing her palms on the back wall. Leaning, she felt the hot water thrum against her shoulders, back, and buttocks and sobbed aloud, “Why, why, why?” She knew the answer to why she did this, but couldn’t explain the why of her response—why she lost control— why she fell.
“I WILL NEVER make love to you—only fuck you.” The words wouldn’t leave, echoing over and over, as Kiernan lay in the dark agonizing over what had occurred.
The words pummeled her with guilt, regret, and shame, flaying her conscience into agonizing pieces. She left her bed, flung on a robe, and fled into the sitting room and over to the bar to pour a finger of whiskey into a snifter.
A wall lamp cast a muted golden glow, enough to see by, but didn’t reach into the shadows. She shambled over to the fireplace and turned on the gas fire in an attempt to ward off the chill from her tumultuous emotions and sat in the old rocking chair that had been in her family for over two hundred years. Her mothers, Maureen and Nicole, rocked her in this chair when she was a baby. This chair also rocked Maureen, her grandmother Shanna, as well as generations of O’Shay babies before her. One day, she hoped to see Ariel in this chair rocking their daughter. Perhaps sitting in it would lend her solace. Rocking slowly back and forth, she stared forlornly into the fire, seeing nothing, yet seeing everything.
All of this was her fault. What in the hell did she think she was doing ordering Ariel to inform her who she saw and where she went? Ariel wasn’t some wayward teenager who needed her permission. Then to make matters worse—Kiernan threatened to press charges against her mother. She had treated Ariel as some shady business negotiator trying to pull a fast one. But, wasn’t this marriage business? She’d never been jealous over any business deal, or over any woman. She’d been attracted to Ariel ever since she first met her, but now this was more than attraction, much more. She couldn’t consider this strictly a business deal at all, though Ariel must. Ariel hated her for sure and would probably always consider this relationship only business. Kiernan wasn’t sure what to do. She would tell her she was sorry, and hope she’d forgive her.
“I will never make love to you—”
“I know the contract grants you conjugal rights—”
“Oh my God!” Kiernan said aloud.
Bolting from the chair, she hurried across the room to open the wall safe and withdrew the prenuptial agreement. She clicked on the desk lamp and flipped through the pages until she came to the spot she wanted and felt her blood go cold with rage. “I’m going to kill him.”
THE SOUND OF soft sobbing woke her. Ariel opened her eyes, realizing they were full of tears, and her nose full of mucus, making her sniff forcefully. In her mind flashed an image of Mysha, her eyes dark obsidian, condemning and accusing. She had been dreaming of Mysha. Sorrow filled her, and she rolled onto her back, staring into the morning gloom. With sudden clarity, another image seared her thoughts: Kiernan, beneath her as she—“Oh, God.”
The taste of bile flooded her mouth and an onslaught of dark emotions assailed her: anger, regret, and shame. But shame was uppermost. Shame that she’d allowed anger and lust to control her actions— and her reactions. She had succumbed to her attraction for Kiernan. Flinging the covers aside, she exited her bed, trying to leave behind the harpies who tormented her.
Gazing out her window, she saw the chill blue sky and the neighboring mountains still shrouded in clouds where the morning sun had not yet reached. A glance at the clock on her bedside table showed it was 9:30. Kiernan would be at Stellardyne, which was a relief, as Ariel was in no way ready to face her this morning.
The night before, she had disarmed Kiernan of her main weapon and now she couldn’t threaten her family. But Kiernan still had other weapons to use against her—especially one she couldn’t ignore. Kiernan could demand she have sex with her, and she had no choice but to comply. Her thoughts briefly touched on the pleasure she’d experienced, thinking that woul
dn’t be such a terrible thing. Shame once again pinned her, and she twisted on the needle point that often accompanied shame—guilt. How could she be such a traitor! She had to remember what Kiernan had done to her mother.
After all that had happened the night before, maybe Kiernan wouldn’t want her now, didn’t want to see the hate in her eyes and feel it in her touch. Ariel could only hope—for her own sake.
Chapter Twenty
“MS. O’SHAY. MR. O’Shay is here to see you,” Kelly said over the deskcom.
“Send him in.” Kiernan rose from her desk chair and crossed her arms over her chest.
Theodore opened the door and was a couple of strides in before he saw her expression. He stopped abruptly, consternation crossing his face.
Before he could open his mouth, Kiernan said, “You have some explaining to do.”
“Kiernan, I don’t understand—what’s this about?” He approached the desk and stood across from her.
Gritting her teeth, she reached for the contract on her desk and tossed it to him. “Stipulation nineteen. I thought I told you to remove it.”
“I thought I did.” He searched over the contract. “Somehow, I inadvertently gave you and Ariel the first draft to sign. I have the corrected one and will get it to you—.”
“Uncle, I think you need to retire. In fact, I’m going to insist on it.”
“Kiernan—please. I’ll drop by tonight and have you and Ariel sign the right document. I’ll bring Franklin with me to notarize it. You will only need a couple of witnesses—Mrs. Belfort, and one of your staff. “
“I’ll expect you at seven tonight.”
“Frankly, I don’t see what the problem is.”
This comment caused her to have the sensation that the top of her head would explode from rage. “No. Being male, you wouldn’t. It’s degrading, that’s what it is.”
Linda S. North - The Dreamer, Her Angel and the Stars Page 19
