Page 28 of Romancing the Reaper

If my body belongs to him, does that mean that his belongs to me too?

My hand flattens over his chest, pushing him off balance until he topples onto his ass, his back against the side of the tub. Silently, nervously, I climb onto his lap and straddle him. My hands tremble with nerves as I reach down between us, closing my fingers around his thickness, and stroking him back to hardness.

Kieran looks confused, but he certainly doesn’t fight me as I position him, and slide down onto his cock. It feels like acceptance, and apology for not trusting him… for hitting him and leaving that mark on his face that’s absolutely going to scar. I lean forward to kiss it softly as his hands find my hips, helping me move on top of him as my legs are exhausted.

It’s slower, deep and perfect as I ride him. He lavishes kisses against my neck, chest, and breasts. The angle that I’m at provides the perfect friction against my clit and I keep going, chasing that sensation. Do I have power here, too? He would have to surrender to me, too… wouldn’t he?

Keiran’s hands are on my ass, lifting me when my legs can’t do it anymore and I place my hand around his neck. No pressure. I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt him, not really. With almost no pressure whatsoever, I slap the side of his face, testing the waters. Kieran’s gaze seems to darken, a wicked smirk playing on his features. It’s almost like he’s daring me to do it again, but for real. I’m tempted, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

He waits, patiently letting me explore every part of his body that I can reach. How far will he let me take it? How far am I willing to go? I think the answer intimidates me a little bit.

“More, princess?” Kieran asks, and I bite his bottom lip in answer. “Does my girl want to be filled up again?”

I pause, for just a moment, and nod.

After, when I’m able to breathe correctly again, the pair of us sit naked on the bathroom floor. Something that normally would appall me, but I’m far too satiated to care. My back rests against the cold bathtub, my head resting against Kieran’s shoulder as he absently rubs at the tender muscles in my thigh.

“Struggles of the mind aren’t something easy to overcome. I know that it likely sounds like I have no idea what I’m talking about, but I assure you that I know a little something about these things.” Kieran says, his voice suddenly world weary and heavy.

I lift my chin, looking at the chiseled features of his face as I wait for him to speak.

“From my understanding, my mother had postpartum depression. While my father, God love his soul, did not believe in things like mental health care, my mother needed help that she never got. She snuck out in secret to get treatment as often as she could. Sometimes she took me with her. I know that my mother loved me, she didn’t need to show it, but she could hardly get out of bed most days.”

My eyes widen, my mouth running dry as I struggle in vain to try to figure out what to say. I have a feeling that wherever this story is going, I’m not going to care for the ending.

Kieran’s hands rub my thigh a little more firmly. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s like he’s trying to use the massage as a way to settle his own nerves.

“The depression just got worse and worse. Eventually, my father figured out where she was going and put a swift stop to any attempts at medication or treatment.” Kieran pauses, collecting himself. I don’t think that he’s ever told this story to anybody else before. “I was only thirteen when she took her life.”

The pain in his voice is palpable.

“I was still too young to really understand what had happened. When I found her, my father said that it was just something inevitable. That she had been weak. Of course, he was in the middle of training me to take over for him. My father was very insistent that I could only be the sort of man that he wanted me to be.” Kieran shrugs a shoulder, making his body language seem far more casual than the way he sounds. “As I grew older, I started to slowly grasp the extent of her suffering. It’s not a path that I will allow another to walk, princess.”

My heart breaks for him. I feel the sorrow of it deep within my chest. I can’t imagine the pain that something so life altering would bring upon a teenage boy. The fact that he found her, that he had to be the one to see her in that condition. I don’t need to know how it happened. I don’t want to know. And, more than that, I don’t want him to have to relive that moment.

Kieran’s offering me a glimpse into the wounds that shaped him, the same as me.

It’s a weird, twisted peace offering. A bridge of understanding between us and something to hold us together. A path for this weird hope growing inside of me to travel.

I had misunderstood him. It wasn’t arrogance that made him offer what he did. He’s not helping me because he feels like he knows better or that he can control me, but because he doesn’t want to see another woman facing the same unhappy end as his mother.

“So where does this end?”

The questions leave my lips before I can stop them. “To what end? If I recover and leaving here is what’s best for me, will you let me go? What’s the point in ‘saving’ me if you just intend on keeping me against my will?”

Kieran stops, the moment between us shattering. He lingers, but I can’t read his face well enough to know what he could possibly be thinking.

Instead, he stands, leaving me here against the cold tub as he plucks his clothes out from under and around me to start getting dressed. The distance between us is no longer a bridge, but a chasm that I can’t even hope to traverse. He won’t even meet my gaze.

“I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. We need to find something you can tolerate.” Kieran says as way of goodbye before closing the bathroom door behind him.

I can’t even bring myself to move.

Is Kieran’s promise going to truly be enough to save me from the darkness that’s consumed me for so long?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KIERAN

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