Page 52 of Cillian

“Yeah your hair takes so much more effort and detail for me. But I just like that you trust me with it. Hair this lovely and delicate shouldn’t always be left to one person to care for it,” I flirted.

“How many gangsters do you think help their wives detangle and twist out their hair?”

“Can’t really be sure. But none of them probably have a wife as pretty as you.” For a while, we sat in silence as she let me work my magic with her hair. Honestly, I could do this all day. That’s how much I loved her.

“Do you think our kids will feel close to Ireland? Or do you think they'll feel closer to America?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Being Irish and assuming I was going to marry an Irish woman, I never considered that before. Having spent my entire adult life in the States, it was hard letting go that I still felt like Ireland was home to me. I hoped that my children felt the same way.

“I don’t really have an answer to that question. Unless you have something to tell me,” I teased. “But I do want our potential children to know who they are. They’ll be Sullivans, but they’ll also be Black. I want them to love both sides of themselves, the way I bring my whole self, loving you, and you bring your whole self, loving me.”

“How would you propose we do that?” looking for me to guide her.

“We could start by spending summers in Ireland. It’s really the only way to feel it when you don’t look it. Plus, they’ll have nothing but field to play in and lots of family to help, so we could start on making more,” I joked.

“And then we could spend holidays with your family. Here, and the Carolinas your parents are from, so they can know their people. So I can know your people. I want them to see how much I love you, too.”

Nestling into my chest, Queenie rested her head on my shoulder. “You always say the sweetest things.”

“I only say what I feel.” Running my hand along the water, cupping a handful to gently pour it on Queenie’s skin.

“Hmph. I wonder how you’d feel about this.”

“About what?”

“I overheard some women talking in a dressing room earlier today. You know? Before you left. And they were talking about all the ways to keep a man at home, or keep him faithful.”

“Okay?”

“Like, having sex, but not the way you normally do it. Penetrating the other hole down there. That amongst other things.” She confessed, which I’m sure was hard for her given how little she knew about sex. Sounded like they were talking about fucking a woman’s arse.

“Why you listening to women that gotta go above and beyond to keep their husbands at home? This brings me back home.” As I reached in and grabbed her breasts. “This brings me back home.” Reaching in between her legs. All she did was giggle and bat me away but I’d already gotten the smile I’d wanted.

“Your laugh. Your smile. That’s what brings me back home. Nothing keeps a man that don’t wanna be kept. If you have to do all that, the spark’s probably already gone.”

“Yeah, but they talked about how men like it back there, because it can’t get you pregnant. Or how things change after you have a baby. I figured since we’re honest and open with each other, was that something you were interested in doing?”

Truthfully, at the mention of it, I was curious. I’d done some wild shit, but a girl had never asked me to stick my cock up there. Not to mention, it’d been a while since we brought up the other stuff—the going dark stuff—so it seemed a bit out of character for her since she was so shy.

As if she’d read my mind, the next words to leave her mouth showed where we were with that subject. “I haven’t forgotten going dark with you. I’ve just been thinking about it. Wondering how dark you go. But maybe I’ve also been too afraid to ask for myself, because I wasn’t ready. But I trust you more now. What exactly does going dark, entail?”

Turning to face me in the washtub, I was relieved I could see her face more, to better assess if what I told her brought out fear, or excitement. “Well, I'd start by taking you to a place that's not our normal. At least for the first time. Being in a space that’s familiar to you sometimes makes you anxious. I've got this cabin about an hour and a half drive from here. I’d take you there. Drop you off someplace you don't know your way. And then I’d chase you.”

“Chase me?” Her eyes widening in shock. Guess it was better than disgust.

“That’s part of my darkness. Most of the appeal. Making you feel helpless. Frightened. Because then it feels real when I catch you. I’m a wolf, remember? I won’t appreciate the hunt unless you give me a good run for it.”

To my surprise, she bit her lip, leading me to assume she was curious. Most of all, it seemed like she was considering it. “What else?”

Admitting what happened next wouldn’t be easy, but being honest with Queenie had worked well for us so far. So, it couldn’t hurt to be honest again. “I might sedate you. There’s this…chemical, that if you breathe it in, it makes you unconscious. I’d probably carry you back to the cabin. But I’d wait for you to wake up before I touch you. The chemical, I’d only use it to relax you. Prepare you for what’s to come, but it works better if you don’t watch me do it.”

Shamefully, my cock got so fucking hard at the thought of it. The thought of carrying her in the woods over my shoulder. The thought of taking her clothes off without the will to fight me. I'd been cooking up a scenario like this for such a long time, but wasn’t sure I’d actually get to indulge in it, let alone have a wife open to exploring it.

But I was adamant on this. She had to want to. Not want to because I wanted to.

“When you're helpless, I’d tie you up. Secure you to the bed. Limit your movement in any way I can. And then…I’d just have you. In any and every way I want. Some sessions could take minutes. Some could take hours. I probably wouldn't pierce your back hole. I’d only do that after because I know it's not the same and I wouldn't want to hurt you.

But I’d taste you. Edge you. Fuck your pussy until you're crying and overwhelmed with pleasure. You'll probably want to kiss me. You may even want to hold me but in that space, all I'd ever do is use you. But I'd use you so good. I'd break you into tiny little pieces. And when I untie you, I'd spend however long it took to put you back together. Then I'd be gentle because I know you’d need me to be gentle after I'm through with you. At least that's how I planned it in my head. It doesn't have to happen. And truth is, I've never been that careful with someone but I want to be careful with you.”

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