“Come here,” he said, “turn around and sit here.” He gestured between his legs. “If you don’t want to tell me why princess parties upset you, that fine, but let me feel that you’re okay.”
I moved slowly round to him, settling my back against his chest and leaning my head against his shoulder. Strong arms encapsulated me, the pulse of his erection against my ass and back. There was no demand and part of me missed that; I wanted to know if he needed me if he was as addicted to me as he had been or if age and time had caused it to wane.
“I’m okay, Killian,” I said, not sure that I was. “What plans do you have?” It was more of a whisper, half drowned out by the swirl of the water.
“Tonight? Or tomorrow? When for?” he said, his hands sliding onto my stomach and up to my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples.
“The future. Where do you see yourself in five years?” I said, bracing myself for a myriad of answers.
He pinched my nipples simultaneously and I stifled a moan. “Happy,” he said. “For the company to be successful still, maybe more so than now.”
“What about a family?” I pushed the words out.
He kissed my neck. “Claire, I’m scared of saying the wrong things. It’s only few days since we declared a ceasefire on irritating each other. I don’t want to make you run away from me again.”
“You won’t. Not by answering that question.”
He was quiet for a moment, his hands still playing with my breasts. It felt luxuriously slow and decadent, just the feel of his fingers with no rush to get of me anywhere but taking pleasure in the feeling. “Then you answer it. What do you want in the next five years?”
“A house in London rather than my apartment. Someone to share it with. A family.” It was easy to tell him and I felt a lightness with sharing it, giving him an insight in to my heart.
“Not to be one of London’s most powerful lawyers?” There was both humour and a serious tone to his voice.
“My department has a brilliant reputation and don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I’ve worked hard for it. I’m where I want to be, but I don’t just want to be making more to invest it or save it. I remember when Marie first came to us and how much she enjoyed being part of this huge, mad family. She genuinely liked playing with us in the fields or taking us down to the river and helping us make rope swings. We weren’t a hassle or another job for her and I saw how happy we made her. I want that happiness.” I knew my eyes were leaking again.
“I understand that,” he said, his fingers rolling my nipples, sending pulses to my pussy. “Are you looking at me as someone who can give you that, or are you looking at me for who I am?”
He had always known exactly how to phrase thoughts without causing distress but never hiding the truth. “Both. You make me want that future. No one else ever has. No man I’ve been with since has ever made me feel what you did and what you do now.” He cupped my breasts in his hands. “Does that scare you?”
I felt his lips rest against the sensitive spot on my neck. “No.” He sounded firm and decisive. “None of that scares me. I’d like the same. I bought this house with the idea it was big enough for a couple of kids if anyone ever decided I’d be a good enough dad.”
“You’ll be an amazing dad,” I said. “But we’re only days back into this so maybe we need to save this discussion for a few months’ time, or next year.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Let’s just see.”
He left one hand playing with my nipple and dropped the other down to between my legs. “Clearly a concussion hasn’t stopped you getting turned on.” Abruptly he moved both hands away, twisting the plug to empty the bath.
“Killian!” I said. “I wasn’t done!”
“I’m definitely not done,” he responded, his voice mellow. He moved me forwards enough so he could stand up and get out of the bath. “Sleep in my bed tonight.”
“Is that so you can keep an eye on me during the night?”
“Amongst other things. How is your head?” he pulled a towel around his waist, covering his still hard cock.
“The painkillers are working. The bath worked too. So, did your hands.” I stood, enjoying watching him greedily drink in my body, my nipples hard. He took another towel off the rail and began to dry me, giving me a hand as I got out of the bath over the steep side.
I let him slowly dry every inch of my skin as if I was incapable. His touch was tender and slow, almost reverential. Then, when he was satisfied my skin was dry from the bath, he puzzled over the row of creams and balms. “This one?” he said, holding a tub of almond, honey and milk body cream. “It smells good.”
“That one’s fine.” I went to take it from him but he held it back.
“Let me. It gives me an excuse to to touch you all over.”
I laughed because it did and he took full advantage. Over my back, my shoulders, down my arms and up my legs. He massaged it into my ass and across my stomach and finally my breasts.
“You’re bigger than before.”
“I’m older,” I said. “I’m bigger all over.”
