Chapter 38

"Hello, Nessa," Dr. K greets when she answers the phone.

Boris and Cillian both encouraged me to call, and once I was able to get a full night of rest, I agreed.

Sometimes, people prefer to talk when they are in the thick of their feelings, but that's not me. I need to calm down and breathe first. Therapy is exhausting, and I prefer to start off with as much energy as possible.

So right after I woke up and finished my coffee, I snuck into the room Boris had made just for me and hit the video chat button.

"Hey there, Dr. K."

She smiles, and it warms my heart just a bit. I can tell she cares for me, and her gentle blue eyes make me feel safe.

"How are you doing today?"

I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear as I look down. "Better than yesterday."

I fill her in on what happened and the words I said out loud. It was a shock to me to realize just how similar saving the children felt to saving my sister. But now that I think about it, it makes sense.

"I failed her, and I feel like the only way I can make up for it is by saving others like her."

Dr. K nods, jotting down some notes before looking back at the screen.

"Just to be clear, you perceive your sister's death as your fault?"

"Well, yeah. It was. I swore to protect her and get her away from the life we lived. Yet, she died trying to convince Ronan that she would be the better daughter to marry because she knew I loved Cillian."

"Who was it that promised your hand to Ronan?" Dr. K asks.

"My father. He wanted to create an alliance between the two main mafias in Ireland. He figured marriage was the best way to do that. When Cillian's parents called off our engagement, he offered me up to Ronan."

My stomach churns just thinking back on the day my father told me I would be Ronan's wife. I was going to be given to him as soon as I returned from the island. But thankfully, all of that changed.

"So you were both put in that situation because of your father?"

"Yes."

She pauses, as if for some kind of dramatic effect. "And every time you try to save these children and fail, you believe you are failing them?"

My brows furrow. That's what I just said, so why is she repeating my words?

"Yeah." I drag out the word, unsure of where she is going with this.

"Okay, I'm going to address this with one point at a time."

"Alright," I agree, readying myself for the emotional toll this is no doubt going to take. I fear she is going to confirm every single one of my doubts, tell me to do better or try harder, just like I was always told growing up.

"You believe that by saving these children, you will redeem yourself for the death of your sister. However, what you cannot see is that your sister's death was not your fault."

I open my mouth to interrupt her, but she kindly puts a hand up, so I allow her to continue. Even if it definitely is my fault.

"You were a child who was learning from her parents. It is a parent's job to teach us right from wrong. It is their job to love and protect their children. At that, your father failed you. If anyone is to blame, it is him."

My shoulders release some of their tension because I never thought about it like that.

"You can allow Enya and her memory to inspire you, but the quest for redemption is unnecessary because you have nothing to be redeemed for. Is that not what your sister would want? To be your inspiration, not your failure?"

She's right. I didn't realize that fueling this need for vindication meant that Enya became my defeat instead of my light.

"Therapy in this life is hard because I cannot tell you to let this go, which is how I was taught to counsel others. This is a battle you must keep fighting. However, what I can give you is this."

I take a deep breath, letting her words encourage me.

"Refocus your energy on the person who is to blame. Your father put both you and your sister in impossible situations. He bartered with your life and stripped you of your choices. Save these children in spite of him, and let your sister be the inspiration you will need to help them through this. Children are intuitive, they can see those who know their pain and feel a bond with you. They will trust you because of Enya and in spite of your father when you finally do rescue them."

I don't even feel the tear as it trails down my cheek until it hits my arm, startling me. I wipe it away as Dr. K continues.

"Every time you get close and they are not there, don't think of it as a failure. You're fighting to save them in the same way you and your sister deserved to be fought for. Your parents failed you both, but that does not make you like them."

I nod in agreement as my view begins to shift. It will take time and work to rid myself of this mentality, but I now know what I need to do. Instead of obsessing over beating myself up about everything I can't control, I can refocus my energy on the things that I can. Like forming a new plan and making this place as safe as it can be for the children when we do get them.

Dr. K and I talk about techniques to help me when I feel a spiral coming on and ways to center me in the moment. I already know most of the skills, but having them repeated is really helpful.

I know I need to breathe when I feel the panic begin. The reminder of how many times to count, and the visuals of filling my lungs until they could overflow with air, helps me see it more clearly.

I am going to get past this and continue to fight despite the man who started it all.

???

After the call with Dr. K, I went to the other side of the house where we plan for the kids to stay. It was hard to figure out what I wanted to do for them since Boris had thought of pretty much everything. In the end, I was able to come up with a few things.

I went to the store in town and got some fuzzy blankets that always help me feel comfortable and put them on the beds. Then, I got some nicer things for them like perfumes, body lotions, and even some make-up so they can feel a little normal, or even just to have something to play with.

I found some fun games for them too that I stocked the dining area with, and puzzles because now I'm obsessed with them ever since Laney had us over for a puzzle party. I thought it would be weird, but it was actually a great time.

There are teddy bears and stuffed animals for the little ones, and I got some fun dresses in all shapes and sizes as well as a few capes and masks.

Dr. K said that for little ones experiencing trauma, sometimes it helps them to pretend they are someone else, like a princess or prince or superhero. I even grabbed one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes that I am sure Damien will find and use to entertain them and make them laugh.

After putting my purchases away, I ordered a bunch of tablets for each kid to do what they wished. They can use it to contact their families and keep in touch until we can get them home, or have movies playing at night so they don't feel scared in the dark.

I feel a sense of accomplishment that I haven't felt in a while as I turn off my computer and stand to stretch. I asked the guys for some space today so I could talk to Dr. K and work on myself. Boris went to see Alexi for lunch, and Cillian said he would be working in his room.

Feeling a little better, I decide to go find him and see if he's up for some company. Plus, I haven't gotten to see his room yet, and I want to explore.

Taking the stairs down to the first floor, I pass under an archway that leads to Cillian's room. Mine is just above his, and Boris' is by our offices on the other side of the kitchen. I love that we have our own spaces as well as the large main bedroom.

We all agreed that sleeping apart wouldn't be a thing, so our separate rooms don't have beds, they're just set up for us to enjoy our own space. Apparently Cillian read a book that said this was a good idea, and Boris went with it.

Mine has a large seat by the window that overlooks the property and a coffee and tea bar. There's a large couch that I could swear is made from a cloud in front of a television and a wine fridge. But I don't know what either of the guys' spaces look like.

When I get to Cillian's door, I knock softly, but the door cracks open for me. Peeking my head in, I call out, "Killer?"

We have small bathrooms connected to our spaces, so I step inside to see if that door is shut, but it's open with the lights off inside.

I'm about to leave to go find him when something catches my eye. His room is set up with dark walls and even darker blinds. There's what looks to be a drawing table set up by the window that's framed outside with red rose bushes. He has a couch and a television, but what surprises me most is the table. I've never seen him draw before.

Yet, there is a large leather sketchbook lying on top. I can't help my curiosity. Stepping up to the table, I look at the array of charcoal pencils and erasers covering half the surface. Carefully, I open the notebook.

The first few pages are sketches of flowers, fuchsias to be exact. There are also outlines of a woman's body in all different positions but with no face. Captivated, I keep turning the pages until I realize I am staring at a picture of myself, crying.

The sketches that follow look like black ink is attacking me, morphing my form into something chaotic. It makes me sad because I remember when my mind felt like that, a storm of rage and sorrow building inside of me for years.

Then, the images begin to morph into me on my knees. They look sexy and well crafted, very detail oriented, especially when it comes to my exposed nipples.

A gasp escapes me when I spot an image of me, tears falling down my face and a cock pushed deep into my throat. My legs press together as heat floods my body. In the next, I have a gag in my mouth as I look up at a man. Tears still fall down my face, but they're not tears of despair.

My hands are bound behind my back, and my knees spread wide. I can't help but bite my lip imagining this in real life.

My heart begins to race as I picture Cillian standing above me, shoving his fingers down my throat until I have no choice but to gag. I think about what it would feel like for my eyes to mist over with moisture and lust. It should scare me that he imagines me like this, but it doesn't. Somehow, I know that even if I'm on my knees for Cillian, he would be the one worshiping me.

Just as I go to shut the book, cool steel is pressed to my throat, a shocking contrast to my hot body. Lips press to the shell of my ear and a deep voice makes my legs tremble.

"What are you doing in here, Love?"

He sounds smug, catching me snooping, but I'm not afraid of him.

"Clearly, I was looking for you, Killer ," I emphasize his nickname and press into the knife at my neck, making him relax his tension on the blade.

"Careful, this is obsidian. Don't want to cut open that pretty neck of yours."

"You won't hurt me. You don't have the guts," I taunt him, knowing he won't hurt me, not in any way that I wouldn't wish for at least.

I feel wetness pooling at my center from his touch alone, but the images I saw don't help either.

"Is this how you see me?" I ask, not looking down because he knows I'm referencing the drawings.

"Yes," he nips my ear. "I see you exactly like this in my dreams nearly every night."

I swallow, the blade nicking my skin a little. Instead of sending me into a bad place though, it gets me even more worked up.

"Do you like how I see you?"

I don't answer the question, but it's obvious from the way my face flushes with heat. I'm slightly afraid of how much I like these images.

"Drop the feckin' knife, Killer." My voice is breathless, giving away exactly how I feel.

"Drop the attitude, Sweetheart, or I might be tempted to see all of the ways I can make you cry."

My breath hitches in my throat, and as he drops the blade I turn to face him.

"Do it."

Cillian's eyes widen, but his pupils have overtaken his irises, turning them nearly black. He bites his lip as a mischievous grin spreads across his face. He looks like a demon set on devouring me whole.

"You want to play on the dark side with me?"

I swallow hard, feeling all of the muscles in my neck tighten. Laney and Evie talk about this stuff all of the time, but I never really even considered trying anything kinky. But right now, I want it.

I guess all it takes is the right person.

"Show me your shadows, Killer. I want to get lost with you."

His nostrils flare, and before I can register what is happening, he picks me up and tosses me on the chair at the side of his desk. It only takes me a moment to comprehend that it's not just any chair, it's one of those sex sofas.

It's like a long leather chair that dips down in the middle. One side rises a bit higher than the other and both have rounded edges. I cannot imagine all of the positions you can get into with it, but I look forward to trying them all.

Cillian turns around and strides to the closet, pulling out a bag. "You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment," he says, stalking back towards me. "Now, take off your clothes."

I do as he says, stripping quickly. Once I am done, I stand to the side of the chair, unsure of how to use these.

"Straddle the lower part, I want your legs spread wide for me."

I roll my lips in hesitance. I want to do this, but a small part of me is nervous.

"Sweetheart," Cillian walks up to me, pinching my chin so I am forced to look at him. "If anything becomes too much, just say ‘red' and it will all end. Okay?"

I don't answer him right away because it still feels weird.

"What is it?"

I take a deep breath. "What if I don't like it and I say ‘red' when you're enjoying it?"

His brow furrows. "Ness, I can assure you that I will find no pleasure if you are not enjoying it too. We are a team, right?"

He takes my hand, and I squeeze it, my reservations dying on my tongue because he's right. In normal situations, I would say if I didn't like something, or ask for us to change positions, so why should this be any different just because we're testing boundaries?

"Together."

He smiles at me before kissing my forehead. "Together."

"Why do you like to see me cry?" I ask because the question has been nagging at me.

This time, his face turns down. "I don't know," he says quietly.

I wait, still holding his hand because I think he does know, he just doesn't want to say.

"I'm fecked in the head, Ness."

"No, you're not." My hand rests over his heart. "Tell me."

"I watched you for so long. But one thing that always made me feel like I could walk away was seeing you embrace everything that knocked you to the ground. You would stand as if you were stomping on all the doubts. If you didn't, if you would have stayed down, I would have come in to rescue you."

He looks at me then, and I feel like I'm beginning to understand what he means.

"But you never let it keep you down. Every time you cried, I was able to witness you get back up. Your strength in those moments made me proud. It fed a piece of my soul that was dying. I became obsessed with watching it. Then I wanted to see you cry for other reasons, ones that didn't cause you pain, but instead, pleasure. I wanted to see that gleam in your eyes that said you would take it and become stronger because of it." His gentle fingers stroke my cheek.

"I wanted you to cry for me ."

"Why me?" I need to know why he waited for me, why he sacrificed it all for me . The broken girl who cried herself to sleep at night and had to force herself out of bed in the morning just to face another day of agony.

"I've been in love with you since I knew what love was. My life could have been simple. It's what my parents wanted, it was why they refused to let me join the Reapers and why they stood up to your father, even though they knew what it would mean for them."

My heart crushes as I feel his pain. Cillian loved his parents, and they loved him until their last breaths.

"Without you, I never would've known what real love was. But now that I do, I realize just how sweet and achingly beautiful life is. You showed me that pain only makes the good times brighter, and that no dark tunnel can last forever." Cillian leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.

"It was because I watched you always get back up that I kept coming back, and then, you morphed into someone who no longer needed me to protect her, but I did anyway. Every chance I could make someone bleed for hurting you, I did."

I cup his face in my hands as we press our foreheads together. "I will always need you," I breathe.

His arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him. "Just as I will always need you, my love."

When we separate, I straddle the sofa like he asked and lower myself onto it. The cool leather greets my wet center, making me gasp.

"Are you already turned on, Sweetheart?" Cillian asks as he removes what looks like some rope and a dildo from the bag.

My nipples are hard, and I want nothing more than to rub my legs together just to get more friction. But I love to tease him, so I respond with a sarcastic, "Nope."

He grins as he walks toward me with a bundle of black rope and a very large purple dildo with a suction cup base.

"What are you going to do with those?" I ask, eyeing the length and girth of the purple monster bobbing up and down with each step Cillian takes.

"Oh, Sweetheart. You'll just have to wait and see."

Cillian walks behind me and runs a finger down my arm before pulling both of my hands to my back. "Are you going to cry for me?"

"You have to earn it."

Wickedly chuckling in my ear, he begins to tie knots up my forearms and whispers, "Oh, I'll earn everything you can give me."

When he's finished, he checks the rope, making sure it's not too tight. It makes me feel cared for even when I'm the one at his mercy. I know without a doubt he is going to bring me just as much pleasure as I bring him, if not more.

He walks over to the bag one more time and takes out what looks like another silicone cock, but when he presses a button, this one begins to move.

My eyes widen immediately, and he clicks on the vibrator while laughing. "You're going to love this. After all, two cocks are better than one. Right, Ness?"

Oh my heavens. I'm never going to be able to walk again. I can't feckin' wait.

He helps lift me to stand and turns off the contraption before suctioning it right where there's a visible wet spot. My cheeks burn as Cillian watches me.

"The chair was made to hold onto these at any angle." He places the purple one just an inch behind it, and my mouth falls open.

"Oh don't worry, Love. I'll be filling that hole too."

If he weren't holding onto the ropes that bind my arms, I would probably fall over. He's going to destroy me in the best way, I just know it.

Cillian leans down over the vibrating toy and spits on it before rubbing it in.

"I think I'm going to need more lube than that," I say sarcastically.

"I know," he responds, pulling out a bottle of lube from the bag and squeezing some over both of the toys. "I just needed a piece of me on them first."

Why is that so hot?

Cillian helps me straddle the sofa again before bending down. His fingers trail up my thighs until one finger slips right into my core.

"Hmm, did my dirty girl like looking at the naughty pictures I drew of her?"

My hips rock into him, needing more. Instead of putting another finger in my pussy, he slips one into my ass, making me gasp.

"Answer me, Ness. Did you like the images of you on your knees for me?"

"Yes," I nearly scream as he slides another finger into my ass, pumping in and out. It feels so good I can't help but moan.

"That's it, baby. Now, sit."

My legs lock instantly, fear taking hold before I can tell it not to. Cillian knows just what to do though. He straddles the sofa, and his tongue begins circling my entrance before he suctions onto my clit.

My knees nearly buckle, helping him push me down onto the toys. He positions them accordingly, allowing me to slide down at my own pace. At first, it burns. But I've had two cocks in me before. The only thing different is the lack of heat, and it almost makes me feel empty.

That is, until I sink all the way down, and Cillian turns on the toy inside my pussy. It rotates to hit my g-spot perfectly over and over. My knees fully give out then, crashing to the ground and I cry out.

I feel so full and that movement is everything. When the vibrations start, my head hangs forward, but Cillian lifts it back up with the remote control to the toy in his other hand.

"I want to watch you come undone. Then, I want you to squirm until you are on the edge again."

He pinches my nipples, and my eyes begin to water. I don't even register when he strips out of his clothes because the stimulation is too overwhelming. And all too soon, I am coming hard.

"Mmm, that's it. Such a good girl for me."

I try to lift off of the toy, the vibrations too extreme as I come down from the high of my orgasm, but Cillian pushes me back down.

"Stay right there." He clicks a button and everything becomes stronger. The toy in my ass feels like it is growing and the other switches the angle so it's pressing backward.

"Holy shite," I breathe.

"Feel good, Sweetheart?"

"So…" I moan, tilting my head back as I rock into the pleasure, "So good."

Cillian walks towards me, cock in hand as he strokes himself, and I open my mouth, greedy for a taste of him.

"You want to suck my dick, pretty girl?" he asks just an inch from my lips.

"Yes." Without giving him the choice, I move forward and swallow as much of him as I can take.

It's not everything, but it's close. I want to wrap my hands around him, and I think he knows. His fingers grip the base of my neck, holding me right where he wants me before thrusting into my throat.

I gag and sputter, but I don't pull away. I let him take from me because he gives me everything I need. I can feel the moment tears spring from my eyes, and his whole demeanor changes. He goes from dominant and in control to a beast that craves my surrender.

So, I give it to him. He thrusts harder, his free hand reaching down to pinch my nipple. The tears flow freely, but I keep eye contact as much as I can.

It's freeing in a way, crying even though I know I'm the one in control. I could push back and he would let go and stop everything with just one word. Knowing that I have that say is the reason it feels good not to use it.

I lap my tongue at him every time he pulls back, and flatten it each time he pushes into my throat. We find a rhythm together, but he suddenly pulls out just as I am finding the edge of my own orgasm again. The remote clicks and the toy abruptly stops, making me whimper.

"Shh, it's okay, Love." Cillian bends down and helps me stand, causing the toys to slip out. I feel so empty it aches.

He tugs one of the knots, causing the ties on my arms to fall to the ground.

"What are you doing?" I ask, wondering if I did something wrong.

Instead of answering, he presses his lips to mine and pulls me into his arms. My legs wrap around him, and as soon as I'm settled against his body, his cock plunges inside me.

I moan into his mouth, his piercing flicking out to play with my tongue. I love the feeling of the metal as he pushes it into my mouth while simultaneously thrusting into me.

My back slams into a wall, and Cillian starts up a brutal rhythm, rolling his hips in a way that has him hitting a new spot inside me.

"Killer," I breathe.

"Yes, Sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

His tongue trails a path down my neck as he nips and sucks my flesh, marking me in a way I have craved ever since the last one was cut off of me.

"I need you," I confess. "I need you to mark me." My fingers dive into his hair, pushing him into me. He sucks hard, and I cry out in pleasure right before he pulls back.

Cillian grins, looking down at his drawing table and rubs charcoal on his thumb. Then, he lifts it to my forehead, marking me with an X.

"Is that what you needed, to be claimed as mine?" He stares at the spot, satisfaction written all over his face, but I shake my head.

"I need more," I beg him. He picks up his pace, watching between us as he drives every inch of himself into me.

"Tell me what you want, Love."

"Own me." I meet his thrusts as much as I can before pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. " Destroy me."

I let a tear fall. His lips part before he leans in to lick it away. And I come undone for him. My walls milk his cock for all it's worth just as he stills inside of me. I can feel him filling me up in the most delicious way as our lips tangle together.

It's sweet and possessive and everything I could have ever dreamed of. Cillian is mine, and no one is going to take him away from me. I would fight the demons of the underworld and all the angels in heaven before I ever let anyone separate us again.

He was my first. And although he won't be my last, he will be my forever.

"I love you," I whisper when we break apart to breathe.

"I will never stop loving you."

It's a vow and a promise I have no doubt both of us will be taking to our graves.