I looked down at her and could see a glistening between her thighs. “No, but you’re going to suffer tonight. Think about me when you’re fingering your pussy, and know that yours is just about to start.”
“You’re disgusting, and?—”
“Yet, you would’ve come for me all the same. Just know that I’d rather stick my dick into a vat of acid than inside of you. My orders are final and non-negotiable. You’re to stay here at all times from this point forward unless told otherwise, or else.”
From there, I tore my gaze away from her, then left the room. On the way to mine, my cock ached in protest. I’d take care of it once I got inside, and I did. I’d no sooner closed the door when my hand went to my aching flesh. As I kicked off my pants, I stroked it roughly. The memories over the years that had slightlyfaded with time were no longer ones I would picture. Tonight, I had her lips back on mine, and I finally came as I pictured those same lips wrapped around my shaft as they once were while she sucked the cum straight from my balls.
I groaned out in equal parts pleasure and disgust as I climaxed at the memory, then came on both my hand and the pants now on the floor. Afterward, I moved to my bed and fell backward down onto it. I had my hand wrapped around my cock, and since it was still hard, I started to stroke myself once more. The only thing to give me any real joy in this was knowing she was doing the same in her bed. Imagining her riding her hand to an orgasm brought me to another, and this time, I thought about making her lick every drop of it off me until I remembered that I hated her. Or at least, I should. I would. There was no other option.
One Month Later
One week faded into the next, and it was a continuing pattern. In fact, I couldn’t even remember how long I had been here in Ireland as one day blended into another. And each one was just the same as before. Cillian and Ciara were a match made in Heaven. I could see the genuine love the two had for one another, and it made me sad because with each passing day, the hatred he felt for me only grew stronger. While I didn’t expect him to simply forgive and forget what I had done to him, I had expected him to understand what he had done to me, too.
He was a Brannington through and through. Each year that my mother had worked at Summit Crest Preparatory, she’d told me which kids to keep the farthest distance from, and Kingston, Cillian, and Princeton had been at the top of that list. Granted Kingston had been older than me so I had never really had any interactions with him, the other two were my age so it was harder to keep my distance.
And once Cillian had stuck up for me not just once or twice, but a multitude of times, it became harder to be both grateful and distant at the same time. Unlike his cousins and other affluent students there, he’d also been gentle and kind, and those were two traits he no longer possessed. At least not where I was concerned. And I couldn’t blame him a bit.
Yet, I’m the one who’d lost everything.
As much as I tried to remind myself of that, and used my subsequent struggle to justify it all, if I had been honest with him, and maybe had even stayed in his bed on our wedding night, my life after would’ve been much different. I still would’ve lost those closest to me, but as two different therapists I had seen over the years had made me see, it had been their time. I could spend the rest of my life railing against those responsible, or I could let go of the pain and live my own life to the fullest. And I’d tried. God knows that I did. Once I had Ciara, I’d made her the focal point of it, and I lived vicariously through her innocence and wonder as the cruel world I knew was out there had ripped those things from me earlier.
I’d not really dated anyone, because I had wanted to make Ciara my priority. But, I’d had needs which had never seemed as urgent as they had the night of the latest fight with Cillian. I hated him and he hated me, but he’d brought out feelings I had buried deep within that night, and I had spent every one since trying to mimic the things he did to me. Only, it never brought that frantic sense of desperation I craved, nor did it deliver the promise of a climax as intense or deep as what only Cillian could give me.
Over the years, I had thought of him from time to time. He’d been the only boy, and man, I had ever loved, and all this close proximity with him again only reinforced to me that I was still as in love with him now as I had been back then. Only, he didn’t return those feelings to me. Not anymore. Back in the day, wewould lie in each other’s arms and imagine an entire life for ourselves, never considering anything to be impossible as long as we stuck together.
That was then, and this is now.
And it sucked. And being stuck here like some sort of prisoner wasn’t helping. I had wanted to remind him that although Ciara and I were here, he did not own me, and I could come and go as I pleased, but his words would come back to me.
“I fucking own your present and the future.”
And he was right. I would never know any true freedom until Ciara was grown up. With twelve more years between now and her hitting adulthood, I had to endure this man and this place, and they were two things that seemed so cold and impersonal that I couldn’t honestly say which was worse.
I did take solace in knowing that I was not the only one dealing with such tumultuous emotions. On occasion, I would glance in his direction to find him staring at me, and not in such disgust, until his gaze would meet mine. Then, it was an instantaneous switch as all the hatred he felt for me came through those cold navy eyes of his.
My body was so attuned to him that I often would shiver even in bed as the slightest breeze from the air conditioner overhead would send memories rushing forth of his once gentle caresses, which only hurt me more. I was not the same girl as back then, and he was not the same boy. Still, I would also imagine him in my room at night. Sometimes, I pictured him touching me, while other nights would cause my entire body to heat up from within. I’d then wake up in a cold sweat only to find the space empty.
Manifesting things like that were a waste of my time, because since the night of our last fight, he’d barely said more than a dozen words to me. His commanding gaze and facial expressions said more than any words he could mutter, and I chose to focus less on him and more on our daughter.
Ciara was now enrolled in an international school, and her life had settled into normalcy again, while mine was still a mess. I had Monica to talk to, but there were even things I couldn’t tell her, such as the argument between Cillian and me that one night. She’d immediately assume I was being abused, either emotionally or physically, and likely sic the Irish authorities on him. He was a mobster. That much I now knew, and I didn’t want to bring any undue attention to him or his family’s endeavors, even though it could’ve been my ticket out of here.
Leaving would devastate Ciara, and her well-being and happiness had always been my number one priority, and it would remain so. After all, she had never asked to be brought into the world, much less this one, and I wouldn’t punish her because my own decisions had eliminated any happiness I might’ve been able to find with her father. He could go on ignoring me, and I would do the same, and one day maybe it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much to do so.
I need to go check on her one last time.
Exiting my room, I listened for any sounds from Cillian, and when I heard none, I ventured out of my room. Ciara’s bedroom was a few doors down the hallway, and once outside the door, I leaned in to listen again and still heard nothing. With any luck, Cillian was gone.
Slipping inside, I walked over to her bed. She was sound asleep and resting so peacefully that it took everything in me not to shed a tear or let out a cry. Back in New York City, something had always been missing for Ciara, and it was now found with her father. Their love was so pure...so natural...so innocent...I almost felt like the worst person alive by keeping her from him. Only, I’d had my reasons. I still did, but had chosen my child’s needs over my own.
Not that I was left with much of a choice.
Cillian tolerated me for her sake, but he would gladly dispose of me if it meant he could have her all to himself. He couldn’t because I would never lose my daughter. After my family died and I moved to the city, more than once I had gone in for a number of pregnancy related issues. From gestational diabetes to preeclampsia, I’d had it all. Even her birth hadn’t been easy, as she was breech, and they ended up delivering her via an emergency C-section.
Every time I thought I would lose her, I fought that much harder because without her in my life, I had no reason to go on living. Ciara had saved my life, and I would do what I had to now to save the both of ours. If it meant dealing with a moody and brooding psychopath, then so be it.
“There’s nothing Mommy will not do for you,” I said before leaning in and kissing the top of her head. “I love you so much.”
And then not wanting to run the risk of waking her, I rose back to full height and slipped quietly out of her room. This penthouse was eerily quiet as I made my way back to my room, but I ignored the sense of foreboding I felt. This place was more secure than Fort Knox.
