I hum and nod my head slowly, “Oh, okay. And do you also do a lot of taste testing there?” My brow ridges waggle and he chokes on his spit. A laugh rumbles out of my chest at his response, because that undoubtedly means yes. What a fucking hound. It’s always the quiet ones.
Chapter seventeen
The Better to Fuck you with
Trissa
Ilean my head back against the back of the bathtub and exhale. This thing is friggen amazing. After I got to my room I waited for a few minutes, but when Cian didn’t immediately follow me and patch things up I got frustrated and didn’t know what to do with myself. I pull more bubbles toward me and stack them on the floating tops of my breasts. I’ve never been in a bathtub so large that my plus-size frame could be fully submerged. It’s magic.
I sigh and try not to let myself stew in the anxiety that quickly replaced my anger. I need to apologize too, and the truth of that is a bitter taste in my mouth. Yeah, he lied first… but his lies don’t seem as insidious as mine in retrospect. I squeeze my eyes shut as shame threatens to eat at me from the inside out. His lies were barely even lies—he went along with a nicknameIgave him, and then tried to get to know me. Now that I’ve read back through the messages it’s almost painfully obvious that Casper and Cian were one and the same. It should make me feel better, but it just makes me feel so much worse about myself. I wastoo stupid to notice, and then my ‘brilliant plan’ to get him to expose himself just exposed how fucking desperate I am. A tear slides down my cheek and I grab up two handfuls of bubbles and arrange them on my chin to create a Gandalf style bubble-beard. I basically tricked him into sex. My lower lip trembles slightly and I bite down hard to keep it still, the little bit of pain a welcome distraction. Ugh! How do I manage to self-sabotage even when I think I’m doing the right thing?
Please let him still want me. Exhaustion hits me like a brick to the face. I’ve spent most of this day ping-ponging between emotional extremes—and having the most intense orgasms ever— and it’s all just taken a toll now that I have nothing else to do but marinate in anxiety and torture myself with ‘should haves’. I take a deep breath and sink down under the water, my knees rising into the cool air as my head submerges. I used to do this all the time. Play this little game with myself, to see how long I could hold my breath before it got too uncomfortable.
If I stayed down long enough, past the tightness in my chest, just past when my throat started clenching to swallow air that wasn’t there… I’d see flashes of my mom. Not like I’d ever seen her in life though. Sometimes she was alone, a lot of times she was with my granny, having tea in a softly lit earth toned room. Sometimes, they were laughing together. Every once in a while, when I lingered especially long, they would look at me disapprovingly and ‘shoo’ me away.
I tighten my hands on either side of the tub to keep from floating up too soon and wait for the burning in my chest to morph into spasms in my throat. My eyes clench tighter against the discomfort and like a movie playing behind my eyelids, light flickers until I can just make out my mom. She’s staring straight at me, mouthing something that I can’t make out. Unease seeps into my already tight chest. It’s never started like that before. She normally only looks at me after I’ve been holding my breathfor a while. The lights flicker again, and this time my granny is there beside mom, holding a piece of paper with a single word on it. My mom points to it and mouths again, ‘key’.
I frown and open my mouth to ask what they mean, but instead of words coming out, water rushes in. My oxygen deprived body chokes on the intrusion and panic floods my mind, freezing me in place. My eyes shoot open and sting from the bubble solution in the water as I grasp the edges of the tub, desperately trying to haul myself up with fingers made clumsy from the convulsions wracking my aspirating lungs.Oh gods—Please, don’t let me drown in a bathtub!Before I can blink, strong hands wrap under my arms and haul me up. Cian drops down into the bath fully clothed and positions my naked body to face him, sitting me in his lap. I’m sputtering and coughing as he pulls my torso close and rests my chin on his shoulder, swinging one arm around behind me to pound on my back. My throat burns as water rises up my esophagus and I vomit, helplessly watching as it spills down his back, leaving a bubble trail on his shirt. Tears stream down my face and I gasp in a ragged breath, the tightness in my chest finally letting up, although a slight burn still remains from all the stress.
“C-Cian,” I swallow, hiccupping and shaking involuntarily. My fists bunch in his shirt, holding him tighter as I wail, “I-I barfed bu—bubbles on you!”
He hesitates for a moment before wrapping both arms around me and gently rubbing circles on my back. I relax into his hold and close my eyes against the sting of more tears. Gods, he feels so good. I’ve never been comforted like this before. My family would comfort me before they died of course, and Gabbi after (and Kyle, if stiff pats on the back then later offers of ‘feel better sex’ could be considered comfort), but I’ve never been held this intimately before. Fuck. I’m so pathetic.
Cian’s hands still for a moment as he whispers, “I’m sorry.” His hands rub my back, more persistently now, grabbing me and squeezing as he works out knots I didn’t realize I had. “For being a lying fuckface.” He stops again, accentuating each part of the line I gave him, making the words his own. He pulls back and cups my tear stained, snotty face into his hands and stares at me intently as he vows, “I’llneverdo it again. I promise, love.” My heart squeezes tight and I shudder in a breath, reaching up around his hands to wipe my face.
Cian’s brows form a deep V and he watches me closely, waiting until I finish cleaning off my face to speak again. “Now… what in the seven hells just happened?”
My cheeks flame and I shake my head as I croak out, “An accident. A stupid one. I… sometimes when I’m under water like that I see my mom… my granny. I—I tried to talk.” I shift nervously on his lap, partially afraid that I’m crushing him.
“You—oh,” he quickly grabs my waist and holds me in place. I can feel the hard outline of his cock jutting against my ass and my eyes widen. “Love, please… don’t move.” The tips of his ears turn red with embarrassment and I smile timidly, satisfaction coursing through me at the proof of my effect on him. Especially considering how unattractive I was five seconds ago—snot tracks and all that.
I nod and Cian smiles apologetically before continuing, “You saw them… like, a memory?”
I shake my head, “No, not a memory. They’re in a place I’ve never actually been.” My mouth curls in a halfhearted grin, knowing how crazy I probably sound, “Usually having tea.”
He squints briefly as if trying to solve some riddle before humming and shrugging his shoulder. “There are safer ways to go about that sort of scrying, if you’d be willing to try them, I could show you. I only know some basic things, but this,” he pauses and looks accusingly at the tub—like it was the bathtubsfault that I failed at playing mermaid. Bless him! “Please, don’t do this again unless you know I’m around.”
My heart soars and picks up speed at the concern in his voice. Heat travels through me like a shot of potent alcohol, warming everything in its path. I lick my lips and study him, unsure of myself once again. “I’d like that.”
Cian holds my gaze, his hands sliding up from my waist to my stomach. My cheeks flame as he slides his fingers along the stretch marks lining my rolls. I love my body… I used to struggle with some insecurities, but I did an online self-love workshop a few years ago where I posted pictures of different parts and poses of my body every day. It sounds crazy—something so simple like that actually working, but everyone was just so supportive and my confidence gained a foothold. Still, no one has ever paid such close attention to my naked body before. It’s unsettling in a way that I don’t hate, but I’m not used to yet.
“I really am sorry, Trissa. I should have just told you it was me… but I thought,” Cian hesitates, wrinkling his nose before whispering, “I thought I’d need as many chances to win you over as I could get.” He looks down at his hands, still tracing my stretch marks in a soothing pattern. His face flushes adorably and I watch as his throat bobs, further betraying his nerves.
He’s nervous… the smoking hot ghost with the magic cock to match his magic couch and magic bathtub, is nervous because of me!
I smile in wonder and whisper back, “I understand.”
His eyes shoot up to mine and he smiles hopefully. I hold his gaze as my hands reach for the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tight before slowly sliding it up his chest. His eyes darken and he swallows before raising his arms as I shimmy it up and over his head, tossing the soaked garment noisily to the floor. My boo stays still as my eyes devour every inch of exposed skin. He’s lean, and he looks well-built, without any bulging musclesor thick veins—but with a very obvious strength emanating from his solid form. I place my hands on his chest and slowly trail them down his stomach, circling his sides before coming back up to playfully rub his light brown nipples. Cian sucks in a breath and moans as my hands map out his flesh, leaning into my touch as his cock throbs beneath my ass. Experiencing his responses to me might just be my favorite thing ever. I’ve never felt so powerful before… it’s like there’s an electric charge running through us, heightening everything.
I should probably try to make some conversation. I mean, we still have a bunch of stuff we should talk about, and I really do want to get to know him. Oh, and I have to apologize as well.
I suck in a breath as his fingers pinch my nipples, arching into his touch and rolling my hips for friction. The water in the bathtub sloshes over the side and I think again how badass this bathroom is—that it has a huge tub and a drain in the floor means bath sex is a total possibility. I shake my head, trying to concentrate, but failing miserably as Cian leans in to my neck and sucks the flesh right below my ear into his mouth.
“I’m sorry, too. For Operation Ghost Cock.” Cian’s hands pause on my breasts and I feel a hot tickle against my skin as he chuckles around the hickey he’s leaving on my neck.
His shoulders shake with laughter and he mumbles, “Operation what?”
I clear my throat and squeak out, “Never mind! Not important.”
