Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (32 page)

My thoughts are scattered when he muses on, staring out of
the window as if he doesn’t want to look at me. “My problem Alys is this. I’m
going to fuck up this thing between us. It’s a foregone conclusion because I
don’t know how to be in a relationship. I never want to hurt you again and I’m
afraid I will.” He raises his hand in a graceful question. “So what do I do?”

My heart is beating heavily in my chest at the thought that
he might want something long term but I choke out a smile. “You might think
that you don’t know how to be in a relationship Bram but we’ve been in one for
two years.” He looks up sharply and I nod. “We’ve argued over bills and
housework. We’ve sat talking for hours, and I’ve bagged up your broken arm with
masking tape and covered for you.”

He smiles blindingly, his worry seemingly gone. “Fuck, you’re
right Alys. I’m actually fucking awesome at relationships.”

“Let’s not go too far. You have a lot to learn.”

He leans forward suddenly serious. “Then why don’t you teach
me love? Show me how.”

Our eyes catch and hold and then suddenly he rises to his feet
holding out one hand imperiously. “Come on love. I want to be alone with you
now.”

I let him pull me to my feet and out of the carriage and we
walk, swaying gently with the movement of the train. When we get into the cabin
the lamps are lit giving the room a soft glow, and when I look into the bedroom
the bed is turned down showing the brilliant white sheets. He shuts the door
behind him leaning against it, and I turn back to him expecting to find a face
full of sexual intent but instead he looks troubled.

“What is it?” I ask. “This is the last thing on the list
Bram. Make love on a train cross country wasn’t it?”

He rolls his head against the door and says words that I
never thought to hear from him. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What?” I whisper. “Don’t you want me?”

He jerks. “Of course I fucking do. Don’t talk rubbish. I go
around with a permanent hard on thanks to you.” He breathes out slowly giving
me a glimpse of a fleeting vulnerability. “I don’t want to make you do
something because it’s in a fucking song Alys. I want you to need it more than
you need air because that’s the way that I feel about sex with you.”

He jerks upright moving past me, taking off his jacket and
throwing it onto a chair, and then he looks back at me. “Not tonight,” he says firmly.
“I just want to hold you tonight.”

I move over to the door and twist the lock and the click
sounds deafening and purposeful in the suddenly still room. Looking up I see
him eyeing me cautiously as if not sure that he knows me and I smile at him.

“Well maybe that’s not what I want or need tonight Bram.”

He swallows hard and his voice sounds thick. “What do you
mean?”

Alys

I reach up and unpin my hair, the sound of the hairpins
falling slowly onto a nearby table sounding loud in the room. When I’m done I
shake it loose enjoying the way that he can’t drag his eyes from the wavy mass.
“If you won’t make love to me then maybe I’ll make love to you,” I say calmly.

He backs up slightly, looking so much like an outraged
virgin on her wedding night that I laugh.

“Oh you think this is a laughing matter,” he exclaims.

“No, I’m just expecting you to start clutching your pearls
any time soon,” I counter, reaching behind myself and calmly pulling the zip on
my dress down.

“What are you doing?”

I raise my eyebrow. “I’m taking my dress off Bram. I would
have thought with your extensive knowledge of women that you’d recognise that.”

“Oh sarcasm, how wonderful!” He backs up as I step forward.
“Alys I mean it. Stay where you are. I just want to hold you tonight. What are
you
doing
?” He groans as I let the dress drop. It catches on my hips
before falling to the floor and leaving me clad in just my underwear and heels.
His nostrils flare and he inhales sharply. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, his
voice thick. “You don’t play fair love. That underwear. You know my weakness is
you in underwear.”

He falters to a stop and then unconsciously adjusts his cock
which is standing hard and blatant against the fabric of his trousers. I look
down at myself. I’ve got another set of Agent Provocateur undies on, this time
a black strapless bra and boy shorts that are made of a sheer spotted material
with thick bands of lace edging them. I’ve paired them with a bright red garter.
“You like?” I ask huskily and he clenches his fists down by his side.

“Like is not the right word. Turn around.” I rotate slowly
and hear his groan that seems to echo around the room. Turning back to him I
move closer and this time he doesn’t retreat. His cheeks are flushed and his
chest is rising and falling with his frantic breathing.

“This is unfair,” I murmur. “One of us is
very
overdressed.” My voice is so throaty that I hardly recognise it. I feel hot all
over and a pulse is beating insistently between my legs. I reach up and slowly
loosen his tie pulling it away with a sibilant whisper, and then unbutton his
shirt, pausing between each button to stroke the newly uncovered piece of skin.
When the shirt is undone I reach up and push it off his wide shoulders and step
back looking at what I’ve uncovered.

I am a lucky woman because he really is beautiful. His
shoulders are wide, his arms muscled and as the eye dips lower it’s caught by
the run of his six pack and his narrow hips all of this covered in smooth,
golden skin like he’s been dipped in honey. This combined with his high cheek
boned, sulky beauty makes him a powerful presence.

I lean forward and decide to taste my prisoner. I start by
kissing his square chin, biting the stubble there and making him hiss in a
breath, and then I venture down, kissing my way over his chest until I reach
one flat brown nipple and I pause to lick and suck it. He groans sharply and I
raise my face. “Do you like that?” My voice is so slow it’s as if I’m talking
through treacle.

“No,” he mocks, his voice a thick rasp. “Try the other.”

I smile and reach up drawing the nub into my mouth and
suckling it, finishing off with a sharp bite. He inhales and pushes his hands
into the mess of my hair pulling me closer. “So good,” he groans. “Fuck, it
feels so good.”

I pull away making him reluctantly loosen his gentle grip.
He smiles at me and then grimaces as I drop to my knees. “Fuck Alys I’m going
to die if you do that.” I grin naughtily and flick the button and pull the
zipper on his trousers down slowly. He groans out a laugh which turns into a
grunt as I spread the material apart and pull his hard cock out of its
covering. “Okay,” he gabbles. “I’m not going to die but I am going to go off
like a fucking bottle rocket if you put your mouth anywhere near my cock.”

I roll my head back. “Try to control yourself,” I murmur and
bending forward I lick a leisurely path up his cock. It’s hot and the skin is
so soft and I run my fingers up it feeling the iron strength behind it. I watch
fascinated as a drop of pre come pearls on the mushroomed head closely followed
by another which slides down the side, and without thinking I lean forward and
lick the moisture away, savouring the salty taste.

I’ve never been that bothered about doing this before and
men’s semen has always tasted rather funky to me, but with him it’s different.
Maybe it’s because he’s my person that it makes a difference. Dismissing the
thought I raise up on my knees slightly and engulf the head in my mouth,
sheathing my teeth and sucking hard. He shouts out something his back bowing as
he arches, forcing his cock further into my mouth.

He hunches over immediately. “I’m sorry,” he gabbles. “Did I
hurt you?” I shake my head and suck again gazing into his eyes and seeing how dark
they’ve gone as he stares at me in fascination. As I watch I see the last
remnants of his control slip their mooring and float away as he suddenly grabs
my head and takes over. “Yeah Al,” he moans, his voice almost guttural. “You
like that sweetheart?”

I nod, sucking harder and using my fist to jack the inches
that I can’t stuff into my mouth because he’s big, and he throws his head back,
his eyelashes lying thick and lush against his cheekbones and his mouth
slightly open, his tongue wetting his lips.

He gives a guttural grunt and suddenly jerks away from me,
pulling me up and taking my mouth with a harsh groan. He forces his tongue in
and backs me against the walnut panelling so that I can push against him.
Reaching down he cups my arse lifting me up with a sudden thrust, and I eagerly
entwine my legs around him feeling his cock push hard against the wetness of my
panties.

We kiss hard pressing against each other urgently until
suddenly we’re moving towards the bedroom and he lowers me until I feel the
cool softness of the sheets beneath me. I raise up on my elbows watching him
hungrily as he strips off his remaining clothes, his movements sharp with
urgency. Finally he’s naked and he stands by the bed staring down at me as if
he’s a diver who has discovered treasure. I stare at him and his hard cock
which is pulsing visibly.

He reaches out a hand and trails it down my body, cupping
one breast briefly before he reaches my hip which he shakes gently. “So
beautiful,” he breathes and then smiles. “But who’s overdressed now
sweetheart?” I gasp as reaching down he unclips my bra and in one sharp
movement he rips my knickers straight off and then lifts them to his nose,
gathering the tiny scrap of fabric in one fist and inhaling deeply. When he
raises his head his eyes are so heavy lidded there’s only a thin shaft of gold
to see.

I moan and raise my arms to him. “Come here love,” I urge
and he stills for a second and stares at me.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he says. “I can’t believe
that you’re finally here and I can have you the way that I’ve dreamt about.”

I reach up and grab his hand pulling him down until he rests
his weight on me and I moan at the feel of that hair roughened, hard muscled
body against me, until I remember my mission and give him a push. It’s not
enough to move a man his size but he acquiesces, rolling over gracefully and
putting his hands up to cup my ribs gently as I straddle him pinning him to the
bed. As he feels my pussy settle against his groin he gives a sharp jerk
bucking up into me with a groan as if he can’t help himself.

“This is me making love to you,” I whisper. “Lie back and
think of Ireland.”

He smiles painfully, his cheeks flushed. “I can’t think of
anything but you
a chroí
, never have been able to.” I still for a second
and then lean forward kissing him until I can’t think and the room spins, and
then I really make love to him. He may not recognise it. Perhaps to him this is
just sex but to me it’s love, and as the train sways with the movement of the
rails and rushes through the night I worship his body and unspoken I voice my
love until he breaks.

Sitting up slightly he grabs my hips and as I gasp at the
power in his upper body he lowers me until my pussy is kissing the top of his
cock and painting it with wetness. “Yes?” he asks and I nod frantically, crying
out as he thrusts up and we both still as he slides into me.

“Every time it’s like new,” he groans. “It’s so good.”

I pant out some reply and he grunts. “Move,” he says
gutturally. His long fingers span my arse and digging his feet into the
mattress he lifts me up and thrusts upward so powerfully that we both cry out.

“Yes,” he groans his eyes a dull gold in the low light.
“Alys do it,” and I move, seating myself firmly. I shake out my hair, arching
my back as I lean back groaning at how high his cock is inside me and how full
I feel. He reaches up cupping my breasts, flicking his fingers over my nipples
as I begin to ride him. I go slow at first getting used to how full I feel,
until spurred on by his feverish moans and husky directions I speed up,
slamming down on him as he raises himself up.

He lowers his hands gripping the sheet beneath him and
arching slightly, all the muscles on his abdomen clenched and tight. Looking up
I catch sight of us in the window where the blind has risen up and I stare
transfixed at the eroticism of the sight. In the reflection we writhe together
and while his face is slack with pleasure pain, mine is transfixed, dreamy and
transported as if under some sweet spell.

He moves his hands down and one hand cups my pussy spreading
around the root of his cock and touching the wetness clinging to the root as he
shuttles in and out. He groans loudly throwing his head back, his hair wet with
sweat. “Alys you’re so wet you’re dripping on me.”

I give a choked scream. “Bram I’m going to …”

“Yes give it to me,” he grunts and then we both shout out as
we come together. I feel the lurch of his body and feel the liquid heat inside
me as I twist my hips and impale myself on his cock feeling the release from
deep inside me like fireworks going off. Then I’m falling into his open arms
and he wraps them tightly around me keeping himself in me as he soothes me with
soft whispers that I can’t hear.

A long while later I come back to myself as if I’ve been in
a waking sleep. He’s lying on his back with his arm around me, one hand sliding
in a lazy caress up and down my back while the other hand holds mine across his
chest. I raise my head and he smiles at me letting go of my hand to caress my
face, and then shoving his hand into my hair he brings me forward to kiss me
deeply. When he releases me I stare at him, at his face which is utterly
relaxed and wiped clean of any worry or concern with only a tiny, sated smile
on it. He stares at me and raises one eyebrow. “You’re staring,” he mutters in
a husky voice pulling me close.

“I was just thinking,” I say softly. “All of your bullet
points are ticked now. I mean you’ve kissed me in Paris, held my hand in Rome
and we’ve definitely run naked in a rainstorm and made love on a train.”

He smiles tenderly. “Alys, they were never the main thing.”

I look at him querying. “They were bullet points on your to
do list.”

He shakes his head contentedly. “They were sub-bullet
points. The main aim was later in the song and you missed it.”

I run the lyrics through my head and look at him confused
and he gives in looking at me tenderly while he recites the lyrics that are the
real reason for this extravagant wooing in his deep, husky, Irish lilt.

I want to know you

Talk to me – tell me your
dreams

Am I in them?

Tell me your fears

Are you scared?

Tell me your stories

I’m not afraid of you

We can fly

I stare at him aghast and suddenly realise that all through
this trip while I paid attention to the obvious things, he’s been steering us
in his own direction. We’ve shared our memories and stories, talked about our
feelings and told our funny stories, to the extent that he knows me and I know
him, better than anyone that I’ve ever met.

With this knowledge, unbidden and unseen, I’ve developed a
trust in him. He may be a megastar rock star but I know that I’m the only one
that knows his heart, and I know that I can trust him now because the man I’ve
come to understand is trustworthy. I go rigid with my epiphany. I’m not afraid
of the future because I know now it will be with him.

I stare at him open mouthed. “You really are fiendishly
clever Bram.”

He smirks. “And you’ve only just recognised that. Shame on
you.” He holds out his hand for my hearing aid which he deposits on the bedside
table and then draws me against him tightly. “Sleep now
a chroí
,” he
says in a low voice and I do.

I wake up suddenly the next morning feeling the sun on my
face but when I roll over the bed is empty with nothing but a flattened pillow
to show that he’s been there and the sheets are cold.
Not
again
I
think sliding off the mattress and pulling on my blue and white flowered
kimono. Pulling my hair out of the collar and pushing the wayward locks off my
face I walk into the other cabin nervously and then stop, hovering in the door
as I screw in my hearing aid.

He’s there standing against the window staring out with a
cup of coffee in his hand and a strange look on his face that is half
jubilation and half unease. I straighten my back in determination. I will not
pretend this time that it meant nothing because it meant everything and he must
know that. I resurrect my faith of last night and I tighten the tie on my
dressing gown and the small movement catches his eye and he jerks.

“Angel,” he murmurs coming towards me and pulling me into a
hug. He rubs his face down my hair, the stubble catching on the strands, and
for a second I rest against him enjoying the touch of him, but then I
straighten pulling back and looking hard at him.