Strung (38 page)

Chayton offers me a hand to steady myself, and instructs me to step in.  The water is hot and my skin tingles as I slowly lower myself into the water.  I close my eyes and sigh, feeling the tension slowing seeping out of my muscles.  This has always been my favourite way to unwind.  Well...recently, it's become my second favourite way to unwind, and I can't resist a small grin.

"Lie back."  I feel his hand supporting the back of my neck.  I lean back and he lowers me slowly into the water to wet my hair, before bringing me upright again. 

A small groan of pleasure escapes my throat as his fingers start massaging shampoo into my scalp, slowly working in small circles, until I'm so relaxed, I risk falling asleep.  He lowers me back into the water again, and I'm almost floating as he tenderly rinses all the suds out.  I think I'm in heaven.

Sitting me back up, Chayton takes my hands in his, and with small kisses, he traces the marks on my wrists, each wrist in turn.  Eyes still closed, I hear the pop of another cap and I feel his hands smoothing body wash along my arms, under my arms, across my belly, slowly up, around and over my breasts, kneading gently.  My skin starts to come alive at his touch, and another groan slips from my throat, as my nipples harden in response.  I hear his breathing falter. 

"Behave," he whispers and I grin cheekily.

He turns his attention to my back, skimming so lightly over my flesh, that I barely feel it.

"Stand up," he orders softly.

I open my eyes reluctantly and stand, watching him, as his hands continue their slow, tender journey, from the small of my back, over my backside, gliding down the back of my legs and back up the front, finally reaching their goal, at the summit of my thighs.  I moan again, louder this time, as my hips sway against his palm, aching for more precious contact.

"For fucks sakes, Acacia!  Behave!" he growls, but his voice is husky and thick with need.

I pout as he rinses me free of soap and wraps a huge towel around me like a cocoon lifting me out of the tub.  He wraps a small towel around my hair and then his hands repeat their earlier journey, this time towelling me dry.  Chayton insists on carrying me back to the bed, and goes on the hunt for a hair dryer and a brush.  I can sense his growing frustration at finding none in the room.

"Angel, do you mind if I leave you for a minute?  Just to go and find a brush and dryer?"  I can tell from the tight lines on his face, that he is worried about leaving me alone.  I wonder if this isn't some left over guilt, for leaving me cuffed in the bath earlier or leaving his mother, or both.

"I'm fine.  Stop looking so anxious.  You're worrying me."

"Okay."  He offers a tight, unconvincing smile and turns to leave, but I sense his hesitation and I have to laugh when he only takes two steps out the door and shouts for my nurse instead.

~.~

Scrubbed and nourished, we snuggle up spooning, in my clinic bed
.  Chayton is barefoot but otherwise fully dressed behind me.  I am burning up with need.  It doesn't help that one of his fingers is igniting my skin where it traces small patterns on my forearm. 

I shift slightly pressing my behind into his crotch, silently hinting, trying to get his attention.  Only his finger moves, still stroking lightly across my skin. 

OH COME ON!
  I scream silently, mentally pulling at my hair with both hands in total frustration.  Watch his waltzing finger, inspiration dawns like a new day.  I grasp his finger, halting its dance, and bring it slowly up to my lips.  His breathing changes as I kiss the soft pad lightly.  Spurred on, I draw his finger into my mouth, sucking it gently, swirling my tongue around it.  I'm soon rewarded, feeling his growing arousal pressing against me.

"Acacia, you need rest.  Behave," he whispers huskily, his lips brushing softly against my neck.

I turn slowly to face him, wincing as the bruises make their presence known.   

"Rest?  I've had plenty of that.  I need to remember what it is to be alive.  I need you.  I need to feel you inside me
.  I need you to make me forget this last agonising week; when I thought I might never see you again." 

He squeezes his eyes closed a low rumble echoing deep down in his chest.  His eyes fly open and they are burning and his mouth is on mine, crushing my lips to his.  His tongue invades my mouth, tasting me, consuming me. 

"Life affirming?" he breathes.  I nod.

Chayton rolls onto his back, pulling me gently on top of him.  I lift myself up to straddle his hips and I'm rewarded with a huge megawatt smile, feeling his hips twist and grind beneath me, his hands thrumming my thighs.

"This has deep exploratory promise-and I don't have to worry about your bruises!" he grins salaciously.

"I can think of a few places, I like feeling bruised," I breathe back, beseeching.

"We aim to please Ms. Ward, be careful what you wish for.”  And he rotates his hips beneath me, creating delicious friction.

"
Mrs. Donavan
, sounds better I think," I hint, gauging his reaction carefully.

A myriad of expressions
, flit across his face, like a deck of cards being shuffled.  He finally settles on incredulous, his eyes wide and glowing.  I watch him lying beneath me, frozen like an exquisitely carved sculpture; the only movement is the flutter of his pulse, in the hollow at the base of his throat.

"I'm sorry I'm late.  But yes.  I will marry you."  I smile.  "And just so you know, Mr. Donavan, I like a little more animation from my husband."  I grind against the bulge under his fly, in demonstration.

~.~

We are lying, face to face on the clinic bed.  Our foreheads touching, our fingers entwined and our breath mingling.

"You didn't agree to marry me just to get me into the sack did you?" he asks, doubt creeping uneasily into his voice.

"That's a horrible thing to suggest!
”  I tease.  "Besides, I already had you in the sack."

"Mrs. Donavan."  He tests the words, absorbing their meaning.  "Thank you."

"For what?”  I whisper.

"For bringing light and colour to my world."

"And you mine.  In brilliant, three dimensional, high-definition."

"Let's go home, Mrs. Donavan."

~.~

I settle into my new life, my heart soaring with the absolute certainty, that this incredible man loves me
- soaring with the realisation that this is okay.  That I am ready - ready to share the control, responsibilities, fears, wonders, my heart, my life - myself.

And I am not afraid.  In finding Chayton - I have finally found me.

I'm Bella Costa.  I read.  A lot.  Anything.

I have been told -
from questionable sources -
that I am a very good storyteller. 
Telling
a story however, is not quite the same as
writing
a story; where a virtual encyclopaedia of rules apply - but after much cajoling, I promised to sit down and write.  Fortunately, I thoroughly enjoy it.  Unfortunately, all those rules make it really hard work and I probably commit every infraction possible in the process.

Perhaps I should have paid more attention in school. 

Still - I hope you enjoy reading this, the second of my books, as much as I did writing it.  (Well at least as much as I enjoyed writing the first draft)  As I am still a very long way from Professional-Author-Perfectionism, I would appreciate your reviews.  Constructive criticism and shoulder-slapping encouragement both welcome.

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