Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

J onathan had slept throughout the entire night which had never happened. Usually, he would be tossing and turning, his mind plagued by all sorts of thoughts he could not get out, but that night was peaceful. In fact, it was one of the most peaceful nights he had ever had in his entire life.

He turned to the side, feeling Ciara's warm body next to his. His manhood immediately awakened at the sight of her behind pressed against him. She moved, and he wondered if she was awake, only pretending to be asleep. He gently caressed her hips, and she moved again, pressing her body harder against his, feeling his desire.

"Morning," he murmured seductively against her ear.

She turned around, still sleepy, but her eyes were sparkling. "Good morning," she whispered back.

"Yes, we could make it very good," he teased, continuing to caress her.

She chuckled at his words.

"Is that the first thing you think of when you wake up?" she asked playfully, turning her entire body toward him, pressing her naked breasts onto his chest.

"When I have a naked siren by my side, yes," he agreed softly, nuzzling her nose.

She cupped his face, surprising him with a kiss. He opened his mouth to taste her tongue and her lush, full lips. Everything about her was utterly tantalizing, even early in the morning. From that small first kiss that morning, he could see that she had learned a lot from his lessons. He wondered if he had really done himself a favor or if he were simply the master of his own demise.

Because that was what was happening. Instead of having his fill of her, he was falling deeper and deeper under her spell, delving into deep, dangerous waters, wondering if he would ever find his way back.

He tried to remind himself that they had a deal. They both had to uphold it. This was merely… the two of them enjoying the benefits.

He kissed her harder, adjusting her on top of him this time.

"I want you," she suddenly murmured against his lips, and the sound of her voice, even more what she had said, set his body ablaze.

"Who am I not to oblige a lady asking so politely," he grinned, kissing her again, watching her spread her legs and sit on top of him.

He had to be careful. He wanted to ravage her, to slam into her as deeply and as hard as he could, but he couldn't do that. She was still a novice.

"Do it slowly," he urged softly. "Feel me inside of you, siren."

She lowered herself onto him languidly, tenderly, while kissing him, and her wet heat obliterated everything inside his mind. She moved as if she had known what to do all along, pressing against his manhood, taking all of him into herself. Although he had been satiated the previous night, he felt that same surge of desire for her as if he had been waiting for months.

She welcomed him into her heat. He closed his eyes, losing control. In fact, he didn't want to refrain from anything with her. His control snapped. He was powerless, and for the first time ever, he was fine with it. His orgasm was swift, furious, all-consuming.

He bucked against her, wanting to fill her with his seed, to make her completely his. Panting, she slumped onto his side, and he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her forehead. A new tenderness had blossomed inside of him, sensations he had been keeping at bay, but now, he couldn't deny them any longer.

"Well, now, we can have breakfast," she said, and they both burst into a chuckle.

He loved how she managed to diffuse a situation, not making it seem dramatically important, although it was. There was a serenity about her that he didn't even know he was missing in his life. And now that it was there by his side, he wondered how he ever lived without it.

"Do you have anything special in mind, siren?" he inquired, not letting go of her.

"How about breakfast in the garden?" she mused.

He lifted an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever had that to be honest."

"Splendid," she teased. "I have also never made love with anyone before, so it is only fair that we both experience something new."

He laughed at her comment. "Yes, it is only fair."

Jonathan and Ciara sat at a small wrought-iron table, laden with an array of breakfast delights. Freshly baked bread, honey, butter, and an assortment of jams sat alongside a platter of fruit and a steaming pot of tea. The garden was a haven of tranquility, and Jonathan found himself relaxing in the peaceful ambiance.

"This is lovely," Jonathan remarked, taking a sip of his tea. "I can see why you enjoy having breakfast in the garden."

Ciara smiled, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I'm glad you like it. This is one of my favorite places here in my new home. My grandmother and I used to sit outside surrounded by flowers just like these and have tea and scones while she told me stories. She was… what kept me going during the darkest hours of my life."

Jonathan felt that was an intimate moment, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her even more. "You've mentioned your grandmother before. Tell me more about her."

"She was wonderful," Ciara replied, her voice filled with affection. "A strong, kind woman with a heart full of love and wisdom. She had this magical way of making everything seem better, no matter how bad things were. And she told the most incredible stories as you've gathered."

Jonathan smiled, enjoying the way Ciara's eyes lit up as she spoke about her grandmother. "What kind of stories did she tell you?"

"Mostly Irish myths and legends," Ciara said, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "She had a story for every occasion. Tales of fairies, warriors, and enchanted forests. One of my favorites was the story of Deirdre of the Sorrows."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Deirdre of the Sorrows? That sounds rather melancholic."

"It is," Ciara admitted. "But it's also beautiful. Deirdre was a woman of great beauty and kindness, but her life was filled with tragedy. She was destined to bring sorrow to those who loved her. It's a tale of love and loss but also of strength and resilience."

Jonathan watched her closely, captivated by the passion in her voice. "It seems that your grandmother was an extraordinary woman."

"She was," Ciara agreed softly. "She taught me so much about life and about myself. She used to say that our stories shape who we are and give us the strength to face whatever comes our way."

Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose there's truth in that. Our experiences and the stories we tell ourselves do shape us."

"Yes, her stories really helped me," she continued, sounding melancholic. "I wish she were still here with me."

"You have people who care about you, Ciara," he reminded her. "And besides, you carry her with you always. The stories she told you, they'll always be in your heart, right?"

She nodded.

"Those we love never really die; they never really leave us, not as long as we remember them," he added.

She smiled. "I like that."

"It is the truth," he replied.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked tenderly. He could sense that she needed reassurance. He knew that feeling well although he managed to bury it deep down a long time ago.

Seeing she opened up to him, he felt the need to reciprocate although he didn't find it very easy to be that open with others. He had forgotten how to do that. Now, he needed to remember that skill once again.

"You know, I don't remember my mother because she died in childbirth, but I had an aunt who would occasionally visit until my father made it impossible for anyone to stay with us with his severity and refusal to see anyone. But Aunt Ida would read me stories."

Ciara grinned playfully. "I bet your stories were about heroic knights and grand adventures."

Jonathan chuckled, shaking his head. He hadn't thought of Aunt Ida in ages. In fact, he wondered if she were still alive. Being his late mother's sister made her unwelcome in their home because of his father. She came to visit Jonathan while she still could, eventually being told that she was no longer welcome. As Jonathan grew older, he forgot about her, but now, Ciara prodded her memory, and he silently vowed to search for her.

"Aunt Ida used to read me tales of moral lessons," he explained. "You know, the sort that taught you to be honest, to be brave, to always do what is right. Quite dull compared to your fairy tales, but I still liked them."

Ciara's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Despite our first meeting and especially your reputation, I can't imagine you being anything but honest and brave, Jonathan. Though I must admit, I'm curious to see you in a grand adventure. Perhaps slaying a dragon or rescuing a damsel in distress?"

Jonathan laughed, a genuine, hearty sound. "I'm afraid I'd make a poor knight. I lack the shiny armor and noble steed. But I could attempt to rescue you from a troublesome rose bush if that counts."

Ciara giggled, a delightful sound that made Jonathan's heart swell. "I'd very much appreciate that, Sir Jonathan. Though I might need rescuing from more than just rose bushes."

Jonathan leaned in, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Anything else I can save you from, Madam? Perhaps from your own wicked mind?"

"My own wicked mind?" she giggled, teasing him. "It wasn't wicked until you spoiled it!"

"Yes, and that is exactly why I need to save you from it by pleasuring you well and often." He winked at her mischievously.

"Perhaps there will be a chance for you to prove yourself then." She blushed, but he could see that she was enjoying herself immensely.

"I shall hold you to it, Madam," he said, taking her by the hand and kissing it lovingly.

They continued their breakfast, exchanging playful banter and sharing stories. The garden, with its blooming flowers and gentle breeze, felt like a sanctuary where they could let down their guards and simply enjoy each other's company.

"Tell me more of your grandmother's stories," Jonathan said, genuinely interested. "I'd like to hear another one."

Ciara's face lit up with excitement. "All right, how about the story of Finn McCool and the Giant's Causeway? It's one I haven't told in a long time."

Jonathan settled back, ready to listen. "I'm all ears."

As Ciara began to weave the tale, Jonathan found himself captivated not just by the story but by the way she told it. Her animated expressions, the passion in her voice, and the sparkle in her eyes made the mythical world she described come alive.

For the first time in a long while, Jonathan felt a sense of peace and contentment. Ciara was by his side, filling him with sensations he thought he didn't even possess any longer. The thought both thrilled him and petrified him at the same time, but he continued to listen, mesmerized, not caring where he would end up.