Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

T hat night, Jonathan was immersed in work, going over the suggestions for the roof repair of the west wing. The quiet of his study was always comforting although he was unable to escape his own mind and his thoughts. Just as he was about to delve into another document, a soft knock interrupted him.

"Yes?" he called out, looking up to see who would open the door. "Ciara?" he asked upon locking eyes with her. There was a playful smile on her lips.

She didn't say anything. She entered the room, gliding gracefully across the floor as her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"You have been cooped up in here for days," she pointed out, walking over to him and offering him her hand. "Come with me." Her voice was gentle but insistent, awakening curiosity in him.

He raised an eyebrow. "And where are we going at this late hour?"

"You'll see," she said mysteriously.

Intrigued, Jonathan rose from his chair and took her hand, allowing her to lead him down the dimly lit corridor. They arrived at her chamber, the door slightly ajar, and Ciara pushed it open with a flourish.

The sight that greeted him took his breath away. In the center of the room, a small table was set for two, surrounded by the warm glow of numerous candles. The table was laden with an array of dishes, each carefully chosen to cater to Jonathan's tastes.

Jonathan's favorite wine, a rich, full-bodied red, was decanted and ready to be poured, the deep color catching the candlelight. The sight of his favorite dishes, lovingly prepared and beautifully presented, filled him with a profound sense of appreciation.

"It has come to my attention that you haven't been eating well recently," she said, her eyes upon him, watching his reaction.

He turned to her, his heart swelling with some unknown emotion. "Ciara, this is… extraordinary. Thank you."

"Well, you do need your strength before our next lesson," she said, blushing sweetly at her words.

Usually, he didn't like a blushing woman. That meant she was pure and chaste, unspoiled by wicked desires. But with Ciara, her blushing only drew him more to her because he knew that deep down, there was a mischievous side to her which he was yearning to unearth.

"That is very thoughtful of you," he grinned as they sat down at the table. "Does that mean you plan on tiring me out this evening?"

She sat opposite him as the candles cast a soft glow over her beautiful face. "That depends on you," he heard her say.

He loved that side of her. She didn't show it to anyone else but him. As he took his first bite of the delicious food, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. He was still thinking about what was to follow after the dinner, but he had to focus on savoring the moment and the undeniable love that had gone into preparing that special dinner.

"I have to say, you really are a diligent student," he teased, enjoying his meal but also enjoying the sight of her blushing cheeks and her eyes that seemed to sparkle like the brightest stars in the night sky. "Whether it is a lesson in Pall Mall or… another sort."

Her fork lingered in the air as her melodious laughter rang all around them. He loved it when she laughed like that. He caught himself wanting to hear more of it and also, to be the cause of it himself.

He loved it when her eyes gazed at him almost like a child who was in awe of something new it was seeing, something new it was experiencing, and it was yearning for more. He could see that same desire for experimenting, for new horizons in her. Usually, the ladies he had surrounded himself with before mirrored his own desire and nothing else. But with Ciara, he felt as if a part of himself was opening. She was breathing new life into it, and he was seeing everything anew, wanting to experience everything anew… with her.

"You taught me to grip the mallet," she teased him back, placing the fork into her mouth and taking a sensual bite of the food.

"I am a good teacher, am I not?" he grinned.

"One lesson does not a good teacher make," she replied playfully.

"Two?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head mischievously.

"Three?" he asked again, enjoying the banter.

"At least ten." She surprised him with her response so much that he burst into laughter.

"Ten?" he asked once he was able to speak properly again.

"At least," she reminded him of the other part of that sentence.

"Goodness me," he said with a smirk, dabbing the corner of his lip with his napkin. "I'd better get to work then."

He got up, not taking his eyes off her for even a single second. He walked around the table, taking her by the hand and getting her up to her feet. The thought of what she did to him last time made him nearly wild with lust, with desire, with throbbing need for release. His manhood was already stretching the fabric of his trousers, making him uncomfortable, but he wanted to pleasure her again.

Before he could do anything, she suddenly took a handful of mashed potatoes and slathered them all over his trousers. The innocent look she gave him almost made him burst into a chuckle, but what she did next turned him into a beast that was barely keeping itself under control.

"My, my, my… what a mess," she said shaking her head at him.

Gently, she pushed him back onto the seat, then grabbed a handkerchief and knelt before him. His manhood tightened as she slowly started to move the handkerchief over his trousers. But at the same time, she was applying gentle pressure, massaging him just the way he liked.

"Ciara…" he managed to muster through clenched teeth. "What are you doing?"

She gave him another one of those innocent looks that drove him even more insane with desire. "What does it look like?" she asked with a seductive purr. "I am cleaning you, of course…"

Before he could say anything, he felt her fingers working the buttons on his trousers, revealing what had been concealed, begging to come out. She smiled upon seeing the effect she already had on him. He couldn't take his eyes off of her fingers and with what ease she was doing it.

"Let's see if I learned my lesson well," she murmured as her fingers stroked him from root to the tip that was beading already.

He couldn't believe the ease with which she was dominating him. He had never seen that in a woman, especially not in a woman he had to instruct himself. She truly was a siren. He had known that from the first moment he laid his eyes on her, and now, he was under her power.

"You know, you are fortunate I am here," she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his tip, almost touching it. He could feel her hot breath spill all over it, but she wasn't touching him, and it was driving him mad with need.

He was fortunate. He couldn't have agreed more. Here was a wife that wanted to do to him everything he had been imagining in the darkness of his bedchamber, all of his wishes coming true.

"We have to get you cleaned off properly," she purred again, and at that very moment, her lips locked around his tip.

She teased him with her tongue gently and slowly at first. He relished the sensation of the wet heat of her mouth. Then, she surprised him by taking him deeper. Nothing could have prepared him for that moment of her lips sucking him, obliterating every other thought apart from her. He couldn't control himself. He sank his fingers into her luscious locks, sifting through them.

"Ciara…" he groaned her name as he realized that he wanted her more than he wanted any other woman and not only to be inside of her but to be with her in every way a man could be with a woman.

She locked eyes with him, touching the corner of her lips with her thumb as she got up.

The thought almost sent him reeling backward, but a tidal wave of pleasure dissolved that thought and her grip over him tightened, bringing him to the edge momentarily.

She lifted her gown around her waist, ready to sit on his lap. Jonathan would have loved nothing more than to push everything off the table with his hand and ravage her, but he knew that he couldn't do that. Only, the reason behind him was something that surprised him.

He quickly got up, taking the hem of her gown and lowering it to the ground. She looked at him, puzzled, a confusion he tried to soften by kissing her on the forehead, yet another surprising act on his part.

He never kissed anyone on the forehead. That was far too intimate.

"I thought… that we would fully consummate our marriage this time," she admitted, sounding a little disappointed.

He smiled, cupping her chin with his fingers. "We should take it slow, Ciara. After all, you were in a convent," he reminded her.

The truth was far from it. He could not see a single thing about her that spoke of her time in the nunnery. The truth was that the special dinner and the efforts she had gone through had made him feel… vulnerable.

He didn't even know he had it in him. He knew that he needed some time to sort out his head. His heart had no say in anything. He refused to allow that. But the confusion persisted, and he knew that making love to her would only make him even more confused about everything. Time would make him see things clearly once again… time away from her.

"That is more than enough for tonight, siren," he said softly. "You are proving to be a better student every time."

She didn't say anything to that. He knew that he had hurt her by refusing her wishes. But there was nothing else he could say without revealing more than he wanted to.

"Thank you… for this," he said again, gesturing around them. "It was lovely. Goodnight, Ciara."

He hastily left her bedchamber, locking himself up in his. As he thought, sleep did not come to him that night.