“I can’t,” she utters words that barely reach my ears.
Looking to Lillian, I give a motion with my head for her to go ahead and leave. I need her gone. For now, I’ll drop the situation. I can put two and two together to know that whoever ‘he’ is did something to hurt mo aingeal álainn. More than anything, I understand some dark secrets and I’m willing to bet hers might even be worse than my own.
I scoop Enya up into my arms and carry her over to the couch, making sure to peek at Ryland as I go. He’s sound asleep, and I move to sit on the couch where I tuck my woman into my arms. “I’ll leave it for right now, mo aingeal álainn, but just know that you’re in my bed, you’re my woman, it makes everything about you my business.”
“Technically, I’ve not been in your bed, so that’s not true. And I just want to forget about it rather than talk about it, so if you’ll excuse me for keeping it to myself.”
Fuck me, even upset, Enya can be funny.
I’ll enjoy rectifying that technicality later this evening when I carry her to my room, strip her naked, and lavish her pussy with my tongue before sinking my cock deep into her depths.
Oh, just wait for it to happen.
Grinning, I pull her even tighter, deciding to drop the subject completely and let her think she’s getting her way. It’ll mean I get to have fun tonight and I know exactly how I’m going to do it. There’s a pretty red scarf sitting in the nightstand of my bed, and I have straps laying in wait with Enya’s name on them.
Yeah, I’m going to enjoy bringing the truth from her pretty little lips. I just gotta prepare for whatever she gives me. Because I know in my gut it ain’t gonna be good.
Chapter 9
Enya
The rest of the afternoon and through the evening was spent trying to relax with Kenyon and his son. My ovaries scream out at seeing how good of a dad he is, and I wonder where Ryland’s mom is. I want to ask but feel it’s not my place.
Kenyon ordered dinner for us, and we’d sat together in front of the TV talking with the volume down low. I enjoyed our conversation. I learned he’d grown up with his mom, who lives over in Ireland now. I’d been surprised to find out his mom had originally been from the country and came over here when she’d been only eighteen and didn’t go back until recently. I’m sure he misses his mom.
While Kenyon puts Ryland down for bed in his room, I went to where he showed me his room was and started a bath like he suggested. Considering my apartment above the bookstore only has a shower, I definitely loved the idea. Apprehensively, I sit in the tub once it fills with water and bubbles. I close my eyes and relax, keeping my mind from going to that dark place.
The one where I hear his laughter as he forces me to do things. His threats to go after my sister if I didn’t listen. His gloating about how he controls everything.
Sucking in a breath, I inwardly shake my head.
“That’s one beautiful sight, aingeal,” Kenyon says, and I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice as I open my eyes.
My gaze locks on his while he moves further into the room, stripping out of his clothes with each step he takes. “Scoot forward some,” he orders, and I lick my lips as his jeans slide down his thighs. Kenyon’s cock juts forward demanding attention.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning at the sight of the thing. Doing as he asks, I scoot forward, and he steps into the tub right behind me. Once he’s seated, he pulls my back flush with his front, where he then wraps his arms around me.
Oh, this is nice. I’ve never known caring like this feeling he’s giving me right now.
The two of us sit quietly for a bit in the silence, enjoying the warmth of the bath. Kenyon’s hands run along my front, his legs encasing me in between his.
“You ready to talk to me yet about what happened earlier?” he asks, and inwardly I cringe.
“No,” I utter without hesitation.
Kenyon doesn’t push it, and I’m thankful for that. We finish our bath and get out. Soon as we’re dry, he lifts me into his arms bridal style, carries me to his bed, and places me in the center. Climbing onto the bed, Kenyon presses his lips to mine, and I’m entranced with the way he kisses me. The tenderness in his touch so sweet, I can feel my heart reaching out to him.
I’m so drunk on his touch, I don’t feel him lift my arms over my head until both my wrists are restrained. I gasp into his mouth and fear starts to take hold.
Oh God, no.
Please don’t let this be happening.
Kenyon senses the change in me and lifts up enough to look me in the eyes.
“Enya?” he calls my name, but I can barely hear him. My mind goes to somewhere I hate and tears spill down my cheek.
The sound of my stepfather’s voice fills my head as I remember the times he restrained me and did what he pleased.
“Fuck,” Kenyon growls, and I find myself instantly freed from the restraints and pulled into his arms. “I didn’t realize you’d react this way, mo aingeal álainn, I’m fuckin’ sorry,” he says, holding me tightly to him while running his hand, not holding me, along my hair soothingly.
I know he didn’t know and didn’t think it would bother me. I mean, he’s held me in place with my arms over my head, but those times it had been with his hands and not a strap. I know in my mind he wouldn’t hurt me while
