Authors: Abbie Zanders
“Is Mary my mother?”
Seconds ticked by in the silence that followed, but it felt like an eternity. Faith was sure her heart had stopped beating in the time it took for him to answer.
“No.”
“You
hypocrite
.” Several phrases flowed through her mind at that moment. That was the most Christian-friendly word she could think of.
John’s features hardened, but he nodded. He walked toward the front of the church and sat down heavily in the first pew. After a few moments, Faith followed with Kieran’s hand on her lower back. Faith slid into the pew behind her father, shifting to the side so she could see his face.
John turned and looked not at her, but at Kieran. “You’re married?”
“Will be soon.”
“And the boy?”
“My son in every way that matters.”
John nodded, but his eyes remained cold and impassive. “Our sins always come back to haunt us, don’t they?” he said, his voice rough. “We fool ourselves, thinking that if we pray fervently enough, go to church, say and do all the right things, that we’re worthy, but we’re not. It’s futile. God knows this.”
“Is that what I am?” Faith asked, her voice as small as a child’s. “A sin?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “You, Faith, are the physical manifestation of my weakness. My
Scarlet Letter
, if you remember your classics. God’s reminder that no matter what I think I am, I am still only a man. A sinner at heart.”
That sounded like a load of bullshit to her, nothing but a convenient excuse, but she heard herself saying, “Tell me.”
For a long while she thought he wouldn’t. The silence was deafening in the empty church, as if even God was listening. Kieran ran small circles over her hand with the pad of his thumb, keeping her anchored, confirming his words in deed. It didn’t make it easy, but having him there made it easi
er
.
“I didn’t know your mother was pregnant,” he said finally.
“Did you love her?” Faith asked.
John didn’t answer that question. “I couldn’t marry her. She came from a bad family. Her father was a drunk and a criminal, her mother the town whore. Not exactly ideal for a pastor’s wife.” He smiled weakly. “But she was beautiful. And smart. And funny.” His eyes raked over Faith as if seeing someone else. “You look just like her.”
Two different worlds, Faith mused, but maybe not so different. “Where is she now?”
John’s face clouded. “She’s dead. She died in a house fire shortly after you were born when her father passed out in bed with a lit cigarette. I didn’t even know about you,” he said quietly, “until the police chief came around with you in his arms. He said I was the next of kin, that I was listed as your father on the birth certificate.”
For several moments, his nearly black eyes glittered with the regret and pain of loss. Faith was very familiar with both. “And?”
“Mary, oh, Mary was livid. Hasn’t let me forget it a single day of my life. But I had to take you in, didn’t I? It was the Christian thing to do, and I was the pastor. God was using me as an example.”
It was all becoming clear; the pieces were finally following into place. Why Faith had gray eyes but her parents and all of her siblings had brown ones. Why the woman she thought was her mother and her father resented her so much. Faith felt like part of her was slowly leaking away; had it not been for Kieran, she might have slid down the pew.
“When you came home pregnant, Mary couldn’t handle it. She said you had to go, that you were just like your mother. I had no choice, Faith. She stood by me all those years, kept my secrets. Gave me five more children - legitimate children not born in sin.”
Whatever self-pity Faith was feeling faded, replaced slowly with anger. “I am your daughter.”
He stiffened, the lines on his face hardening. “I took you in. Put food in your belly and clothes on your back until you went and got yourself pregnant. I did right by you.”
“If that’s what you think parenting is, you’re even more pathetic than I thought. Leaving was the best thing I ever did.”
John didn’t deny it. “I prayed for you.”
Faith laughed, a cold, empty sound that surprised them all. It echoed in the empty church. “Well, then. I guess that makes everything okay. Goodbye,
Dad
.”
Faith rose and began to walk down the aisle, Kieran protectively at her back. She was nearly at the doors when John stood up. “Faith, wait.”
Faith paused and turned slowly. “You’ve obviously done well for yourself,” John began, and for a moment Faith thought he might be about to tell her that he was proud of her. But those hopes were shot to hell with his next words. “We’ve fallen on hard times here. You have an obligation to your family.”
Nothing could have prepared her for that. She gaped at him, open-mouthed, for several seconds before she finally found her voice. “Don’t worry, Dad,” she said, turning away again. “I’ll
pray
for you.”
“You okay?” Kieran asked, once they were in the comfortable rental and headed back to the hotel.
“Yeah,” she said, blowing out a breath. It was the first full breath she’d taken all morning. The fresh air, combined with the scent of the man she loved, filled her lungs and burned away some of the residual angst. “I really am.”
“Good,” he said simply, lacing his fingers through hers.
“Yeah.”
“So. What do you think about a New Year’s Eve wedding?”
T
hey went out to dinner that night to celebrate - Kieran, Faith, and Matt. They had shared a meal so many times together that it felt quite natural. But there was something new there that wasn’t there before. The invisible bond that tied them together was now a tangible thing. It felt right, as if the last pieces of the puzzle had finally clicked into place.
When they got back to the hotel, Matt surreptitiously excused himself and went to his room to watch some of the premium movie channels (each bedroom had a small television). Faith was about to warn him against trying to watch some of the unrated shows, but Kieran nudged her.
“He’s giving us some time alone,” Kieran breathed into her ear. “I’d say that deserves a little good faith on our part, wouldn’t you?”
Faith blushed and Kieran chuckled when they heard the television in Matt’s room come on loud enough for them to hear what he was watching, but guessed that the excessive volume was more to keep Matt from hearing anything that might be going on
outside
of his bedroom.
Kieran picked up the ice bucket with the bottle of champagne and two flutes and walked into the bedroom. Faith followed feeling a bit nervous. Was he planning on staying with her again tonight, even though she was no longer ill?
“You bet I am,” Kieran said, leaving Faith to wonder if she’d voiced her thoughts out loud. “Now that I’ve finally got you, there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting you slip away again.”
He chuckled softly when Faith said she really needed to take a shower, granting her a generous hour to do whatever she needed to do, but warned her that he would come in and get her if she wasn’t out by then. Faith wasn’t sure if the thrilling shiver that ran through her body was a result of anticipation or nerves.
She used every minute of her allotted time. She scrubbed, shaved, plucked, exfoliated, flossed, and brushed until she was hairless, smooth, and glowing from the neck down. With five minutes to spare, she spritzed a soft musk along her pulse points. Spotting Kieran’s shirt hanging from the hook on the back of the door, she decided to slip it on.
She swore Kieran’s eyes glowed when she stepped somewhat shyly out of the bathroom. He was propped up on the bed, shirtless and barefoot, remote in hand. He stilled when he saw her. Only his eyes moved; she felt them on her as keenly as a caress. With every step she drew closer, the sheer hunger on his face intensified.
“I need a shower, too,” he said, his voice somewhat strangled. Kieran leaped out of the far side of the bed just as she approached the other and sprinted into the bathroom, leaving Faith looking uncertainly at the back of the door.
She heard the water come on. The muted sounds of a zippered bag opening and closing. A few muttered curses (the reason became clear shortly afterwards).
In less than five minutes, Kieran emerged from the bathroom, his hair towel dried, a few nicks along his jawline (she guessed he had shaved a bit hurriedly), and a towel slung low on his hips. It really had been an eight-pack she’d glimpsed that one day so very long ago. An eight-pack that was nestled into the most perfect “V” of muscle and dark hair she’d ever seen.
“Lord have mercy,” she whispered.
Kieran slid into the bed beside her, dropping the towel on the floor as he did so. He sat next to Faith, his left leg rubbing up against her right. It was all she could do not to stare at the very prominent erection he sported, but what she glimpsed in her peripherals was enough to have her core burning and preparing itself for him.
They sat in silence for several minutes. Faith felt like a pubescent teen, jumping slightly when Kieran made the first move by placing his hand lightly on her thigh.
“Matt’s in the next room,” she breathed, her heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s.
Kieran exhaled slowly before turning toward her. “I guess we’ll have to be extra quiet then.” His hand reached up under the shirt she wore – his shirt – and skimmed across her flesh. “No matter what happens,” he said softly, his voice a sensual caress in itself, “
don’t
scream.”
* * *
F
aith whimpered. Kieran moaned softly when his fingertips soon discovered she had neglected to put on panties. His lips met hers, capturing her outcry when his fingers found her slick wet center.
He was going to do everything he could to bind her to him. He’d already openly laid claim upon her heart, now it was time to imprint himself on her soul.
“How I’ve dreamed of touching you like this,” Kieran breathed as he kissed his way down her jawline, her throat, stopping only to place his fingers upon his tongue. “Like the sweetest honey,” he murmured.
He made quick work of the two or three buttons she’d fastened, opening the sides slowly and with anticipation, as if he was unwrapping a present. “So beautiful...” he praised, the only words he managed before drawing one hardened tip into his mouth. At the same time, his hand found its way back down to her molten core. Faith hissed loudly, arching beneath him, her hands tangling in his thick, silky hair.
“Sssshhh,” he scolded, nipping the underside of her breast and then licking away the sting.
He made sure to treat her neglected breast with the same attentiveness, while his fingers continued to strum along her center. Without warning, he began to ease a finger inside her. Reflexively, she tensed all over and clenched hard on his fingers.
“Damn, baby,” he choked around her breast. “You’re going to unman me before I even make it inside you.”
Faith was too highly strung to even consider penetration any time soon, he realized, which did very little to ease the horrible ache that had taken root deep in his groin. His cock was thick and heavy with need, the tip already wet and slick. If he tried to take her now, as his body was screaming for him to do, he would hurt her. He needed her softer, more pliant before he could even consider claiming her.
With that in mind, he called upon his inner control. As if he had all the time in the world, he licked, teased, and suckled her breasts, leaving not a spot untouched, as he continued to thumb her now-swollen nub and coax another finger inside.
“Don’t fight it, baby. Let it take you.” He nearly sobbed with relief when he felt her inner muscles tightening. He stroked faster, sucked harder, and scissored and curled his fingers with consummate skill. Faith released the death grip she had on his hair and grabbed a pillow, slamming it over her face to cover the sounds of the wail she could not completely contain.
Kieran chuckled against her skin, pleased with her response. “Oh, Faith, sweetheart, I can’t wait for the day I have you alone and you don’t have to be quiet.” He lightened the pressure on her sex, bringing her down gently. His fingers were coated in her creamy heat, her sex swollen and hot in his hand. His cock pulsed in agony.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he breathed as he drew himself over her. “I wanted to make our first time last all night, but I can’t wait any longer. I need you, Faith. I need to be inside you more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life.”
Faith moved the pillow aside and opened herself to him, allowing him to settle in the cradle of her thighs. She felt the thick head of his erection nudging against her entrance, her ultra-sensitive nerves more than ready to welcome him.
“Then come inside me,” she whispered huskily. “Come inside me and make me yours.”
Kieran didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed Faith, a passionate, soul-searing kiss, and rocked his hips forward. She was so well-lubricated that it eased his penetration, but it was still a very tight fit. He felt her stretching to capacity all around him.
Faith held her breath, as did he, caught somewhere between awe and ecstasy at the feel of entering her for the first time. “Breathe, baby,” he commanded with the last of his ability to speak. She did, and when she took that first big inhale, he slid in up to the hilt in one smooth, final thrust.
He stayed like that, suspended and still, as he let the wonder of finally being joined with his
croie
overtake him.
* * *
I
t gave Faith the opportunity to adjust to his girth. If she’d had any doubts about being too stretched down there from giving birth, they were quickly laid to rest. She tried to imagine what it would have been like to accommodate someone of Kieran’s size without having the benefit of natural childbirth first. Granted, it was a long time ago, and she’d been very young, but she still believed it had to have helped somewhat. He was as big there as he was everywhere else.