AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He laughed at that, no doubt a culprit of these things himself at one point. But the laugh felt too far away, and the distance between them had begun to bother Áine like a whispering on the back of her neck.
“Áine, love.” He beckoned with his head. “C’mere to me.”
Another thought shared, she supposed.
She broke her hand’s clasp from her neck to stand upright. His blatant want had again revived her. But he didn’t show it in some desperate way that made him appear weak. It was something else. Something seductive that sent a tight sensation into her nerves. Like he was rooting himself in invisible vines across the floor, curling around her ankles and calves and the inlay of her thighs, until she found herself being dragged towards him.
“What will you give me in return?” she asked, sauntering over.
“Maybe I’ll give you a story. One to leave behind. It’s only fair.”
This is new.
“How’s that? The fair part, I mean . . .”
“Because, well, I know you said I could pick one from the library, but I suppose the story of what happened tonight is the one I really want to take with me. So it seems equitable to leave you with one too.”
His fingers ran over his strong jawline as his tongue cheekily worked some corner teeth. It broke one out in her too; a smile full of cheek. Because the way he composed words was so perfect and melodic. He found suave in the most unexpected moments.
Not to give him an inch, she retaliated when reaching the bed, clasping the post just above his idle hand. “Like I told you earlier, I’m a narcissist in that way. I prefer to hear my own voice relaying the words to me.” She hovered as she said it, knowing full well it didn’t apply to this.
“And I told you I didn’t agree. Look, I promise I’m a great storyteller . . . among other things.”
He reached out to hold the back of her hips with both hands, digging a little into the meat as he stared up at her like she was something of a higher power.
She used the opportunity to place her thumb onto his mouth, its gentle weight enough to droop his bottom lip and have her clench her own. “Start then.”
His thumbs began to caress right beneath her pelvic bones. “It would be a lie to say I haven’t thought of you at all in six years because I have. And now that I spent even a few hours with you tonight, I can see how fitting it was. How you’ve grown into it . . .”
“Grown into what?” she asked in a shaky inhale for how his thumb’s pressure teased the idea of moving further in, and how his voice became so sultry and deep.
“Your name”—his jaw tilted to her—“Áine.”
Her eyes rolled as he stretched her name’s worth to its near end. Said it in a breath. Said it as though it was a moan he couldn’t suppress.
“She was the people’s goddess. Did you know that?” he asked as his steady hands left her hips to begin the seductive ritual of unbuttoning the front of her pinafore. “That thousands of years ago there was a woman who was so kind and inspiring she helped thousands take control of their feminine power. The Goddess—Áine.”
The first button opened, drawing her eyes to the touch, then back to him. The exposure rallied something in her muscles, calling them to unanimously constrict and clench without mercy.
“The word alone makes so many men shrivel—feminism. It creates a turbulence of anger within them to hear it. It creates a desire to conflate it with a threat on men. And I know I’m telling you things you already know, it’s not to explain, but to let you know I adore the Goddess Áine for doing just that. Shegave women secrets of seduction. She provided them the tools to make a man so utterly weak and vulnerable, these women didn’t need the power of physical strength.” Methodical, he undid the next button, exposing her breasts in the cushioned bra. “She was the moon and the sun and therefore balanced. Ghrian agus Ghealach. Bending all men’s will to hers and her maiden army.”
The following two buttons exposed her goose-bumped stomach and the hem of her underwear, where a thin line of red had imprinted the skin.
He twisted the tiny bow on its front admiring it.
It was then that the heat began to flood her cheeks, and she inched her face into her shoulder. He must have known by now—how fixated she was. How there was no will left in her to resist.
“Her power was so utterly intoxicating, men would crawl to her through any terrain; turf or fire or snow. She commanded them. Made them pulp. Sheownedthem. And the best part was they wouldn’t want it any other way.”
The final button loosened, and the pinafore hung to her sides. But she didn’t feel exposed or even cold. She felt as though she’d been possessed by Áine from his story. So much so, she dared to ask him a question, “Would you crawl to me, Fionn? Fall to your knees for my pleasure alone?”
Rebelling the submissive narrative, Fionn stood and lowered the ledge of her bra. “Anything you want. Anywhere. Any command.” He kissed her arm above the fallen strap, hot mouth slowly making its way up to her neck.
Áine gasped at the heavy touch against her skin.
“I’ll worship you if just for tonight,” he told her. “When I read this story, it was you who I imagined in her place. It was the thought of you I stroked myself to before I fell asleep that night. And tonight, I want that memory to materialise. I want it to be you, in the flesh, who touches me.”
He wasn’t weak for displaying his want, he was showing her he was devout.
