My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella (14 page)

Read My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella Online

Authors: Eden Butler

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella
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He was naked on top of her.

The breeze from the open door stirred through their cottage, disturbed the thin curtains and moved Kona’s hair into his eyes as he moved inside her. Keira thought he looked like some Polynesian warrior god, fierce, mighty with a severe wrinkle between his eyebrows as though the feel of her body, her inner muscles as she clamped around him, was the most delicious mix of pleasurable pain.

“Kiss me, baby. Kiss me like you mean it.” And Keira obliged, tugging at the back of Kona’s hair, taking in his tongue, loving the small bites he made against her bottom lip. “Shit. No, I don’t wanna come yet.” And then he slipped out of her, moved down her body until he was between her legs, using his thumbs to push apart her lips. “I love the way you taste, Wildcat. So sweet, so tangy.” He licked up her folds, lapping all the moisture their bodies had created before he took her clit between his teeth, nibbling, licking until Keira thought she might die from the sensation Kona worked in her. “This is mine, isn’t it, baby? All this,” he said, fingering her suddenly, not preparing her so that the shock and the pressure of his touch left Keira shuddering. “These perfect lips, this pretty pussy, it’s all for me, right baby?”

“Yes. Oh God, Kona, only yours.”

He climbed over her, dragging those hard, delicious muscles up her torso, rubbing himself against her sensitive nipples before he grabbed her face, making her look at him. “And this…” a twist of his hips and Kona slammed back into her, thrusts deep, penetrating, “this is yours. This is only yours.” Another deep thrust and Kona groaned, echoed the satisfied noise Keira made when he hit her G-spot. “I… I gave you this a long time ago, baby.” And then Kona worked faster, lifted on his hands, massive biceps and triceps shaking as moved his hips, filled her, eyes closed and that severe expression, the one that looked like hunger and pain and pleasure that was almost overwhelming, returned to his face. “All yours, baby. I’ve always been yours.”

 

Keira woke from her dream, shaking, stretching at the delicious soreness in her muscles, the throbbing ache in her center that told her that had not been a dream at all. The night before had been like every other night that week, where Kona and Keira spent the day on the beach or in the small town with Ransom, enjoying what was really the first family holiday they’d ever taken together. And then, at night, with their son in a cottage two lots over talking smack through his headphones at whoever he played Madden NFL online, Kona took Keira to bed, loving her body over and over and over again. And when she told him she couldn’t possibly, that the stores of satisfaction in her body had been depleted, then Kona proved they weren’t, that she could, that she must and he loved her hard, deep, then sweet and slow.

Coming out of another satisfied stretch, Keira frowned when she didn’t feel Kona next to her. That frown deepened when she looked at the old teak cuckoo clock on the wall that told her she’d slept most of the day away.

She relaxed a little, spotting the single hibiscus on his pillow, then called to him, pulling the thin sheet around her as she glanced into the ensuite bathroom. But he wasn’t there, wasn’t in his usual spot on the porch outside their room either, swinging in the hammock like he didn’t have a care in the world. Then, as Keira reached for her robe, not worried that without the sheet she was totally naked, and returned to the bathroom, she closed the door behind her and spotted the simple white dress hanging on the back of the door.

It was very beautiful, but simple and elegant; a short ivory slip dress with delicate beading sewn into the bodice and a hem of lace that looked to be just above knee length. Attached to the hanger with a white ribbon was a note written in Kona’s messy scribble.

“Wear me.”

And Keira did just that, hurrying to wash her face and brush her hair and teeth before she slipped that delicate dress over her head. The material was soft, and it hugged her perfectly, held her waist but was loose and comfortable against her thighs.

She grabbed the flower off the pillow, tucked it behind her ear, and opened the bedroom door, stepping back from the flower petals that she noticed formed a trail down the hall.

“Follow us,” was written on a card taped to the hallway wall. “Oh Kona, you didn’t,” she said to the empty hallway, following the cluster of white, pink and red flower petals through the cottage, out onto the back porch. The trail continued down the steps and onto the beach.

And there, waiting for her, was Ransom, smile ridiculously wide, eager, wearing a white linen shirt, sleeves rolled midway up his arms and
khaki
 
pants cuffed over his bare feet. “Hey,” he said, holding out his hand as Keira walked down the steps.

“Hey,” Keira said back, stretching up on her feet to kiss her boy on his cheek. “Whose evil plan was this?”

Ransom gave Keira a non-committal shrug, winking at her as he offered his mother an arm. “Ready?”

“Definitely.”

And Keira tried not to cry, to ruin the day with a runny nose as Ransom led her away from the house, following that trail of petals down to the beach. He kept his freehand over her fingers squeezing them tight and Keira’s heart swelled at how happy her son looked, how that smile on his face only grew wider as they headed toward the small altar near a cluster of lava rocks back dropped by the crystal blue water and the quiet roll of the waves slipping onto the shore.

She had told Ransom that she had forgiven him for his over-eager gesture of peace with his grandmother the morning after Kona found her on the beach. The boy had never meant to hurt her by the gesture, nor to keep anything from her, and Keira understood that her son’s big, kind heart was in the right place. Keira thought, most of the time, Ransom was the adult, that his age meant nothing when he was the one who always forgave, who always clung to the big hope that every gray cloud was temporary, that the sun would always drive away the clouds.

He’d forgiven
Lalei
for the pain she’d caused him, for the lies she’d told Kona, and because of that their relationship, although distant and strained, was healing. Keira was glad for it, glad that Kona and Ransom both could make their peace with the old woman, that they all now could move on.

“He did all this, you know.” Ransom nodded ahead to where Kona walked toward an altar made of palms and blossoms with a circle of flowers curved around the base. He didn’t look at Keira as they came closer and she smiled, her heart pounding as Kona followed the
kahu
, holy man, to the front of the altar. “He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted it to be your kind of perfect, Mom.”

And to Keira, it was. The cool brush of air rustling around them, the sun warming their skin, her beautiful boy walking her down the make-shift aisle and Kona, her perfect Kona, back to her as was tradition, looking large, relaxed and divine as the
kahu
next to him sang a low rasped chant as he led Kona to the altar.

“He’s not supposed to be looking,” Ransom complained when Kona looked over his shoulder, his cheeks dented deep with his huge smile. He was so beautiful, tall and wide and lovely in his linen shirt and loose fitting pants. Even his large bare feet had Keira biting her lips. “That’s for you.” Her son moved his chin toward the
kahu
as he blew on the
pu
, or conch seashell, welcoming her toward the altar, calling forth to the
land, air, fire, and sea to be witnesses to the ceremony.
It was a sound Kona had explained announced the beginning of something magical, something special.

Finally, with Ransom’s grip on her fingers loosening, they reach the altar and Keira’s heart worked hard, felt like it was inching toward her throat when Kona finally turned around and stepped toward her.

Those tears Keira had managed to keep at bay let loose, fell from her eyes when Ransom kissed her, then turned toward his father and let the big man kiss his cheek, wrapping their son in his massive arms.

Ransom stepped back and Kona greeted Keira with a kiss, seeming to not care that it wasn’t time for that part. “Wildcat,” he said, with his forehead against hers and those small tears got larger. Kona’s hand felt warm against her cheek, settled that wild rhythm of Keira’s heart as he looked down at her, kissing her knuckles before he brought her in front of the
kahu
.

Keira only managed a brief glimpse at the old man, his beautiful purple sash knotted at his shoulder and the vivid colors, purples, deep greens, of his
haku lei
,
head garland, resting atop his white hair. But Keira didn’t notice too many more details about the man or the words he said after some kind of welcome that she thought was somewhat unnecessary since it was just Ransom that watched Kona and Keira at that altar.

Her attention instead was drawn to the big man in front of her, focused on the sensation of his large fingers over her arms, pulling her close. The wet gleam in his eyes told Keira everything she needed to know about what was running through his mind. This had been a long time coming, years, and it was finally here. This would finally be their always.

“Oh, I forgot,” Ransom said, pulling out his phone to play the low sound of a ukulele. “
Ke Kali Nei Au
” wafted melodic and soft from Ransom’s shirt pocket, another tradition Kona had told her they couldn’t skip.

And then, their son came to them, two leis in his hands giving Keira the long, green maile leaf lei and Kona the fragrant white ginger lei. Keira followed Kona’s lead, dipping her head when he settled the lei over her shoulders, then stretching forward when it was time to give Kona his.

The
kahu
prompted them, asking for the vows and Keira smiled. They’d discussed the traditions Kona wanted included in their ceremony before they left New Orleans. The wedding that almost happened was going to include the music, the leis, all the customary things they were now implementing at this small ceremony, but still Keira thought this was better, just their little family and the sea behind them. They didn’t need pedantic oaths about fidelity and honor and sickness and health. They’d planned vows of truth, of sincerity, and Keira was happy, relieved that those private vows would be spoken out here on the beach with no prying eyes, no confused minds tainting the promises they wanted to make to each other.

Kona smiled, touched her face again and this time, he let his hand rest there as though he couldn’t do without touching her for another minute. Inhaling deep, Kona’s voice was soft and that shimmering gleam in his eyes built, threatened to spill over the longer his gaze met Keira’s.

“My Wildcat,” he said, smiling when she shook her head, “I promise to pick up my shoes off the floor so your toes don’t get busted again.” Keira grabbed his wrist, holding her fingers around it, needing to touch his skin, and the glimmer in Kona’s eyes brightened. “I promise to never stop kissing you, like I
really
wanna do right now.” Kona cleared his throat when the
kahu
said something low and amused that Keira couldn’t make out. “I promise to put you first, to always remember that you are my breath, you are what makes all the bad disappear. You always have been, baby. God knows you always will be.” Kona exhaled, shoulders moving down and his thumb picked up a slow rub across Keira’s cheek. “I promise…” he cleared his throat again, dismissing the small quake in his voice that had interrupted his words, “you’ll always be my beloved.”

When he had finished, Kona didn’t move his hand from her face, couldn’t seem able to, so Keira kissed his palm, threaded their fingers together and placed their hands right against Kona’s chest, where his heart beat fast, where that small tattoo, the one he got for Keira all those years ago still marked him. It had faded, she’d noticed, those precious words gray now and surrounded by the intricate symbols and lines of the Polynesian tribal marking, meanings that he’d explained had detailed his life, his regret, his hope, over his chest, his shoulder and down half of his arm. It had all started with those words,
Ku`u Lei
, “my beloved,” and Keira held her fingers over it now, hoping he could feel what she did, wishing he could understand what his promises had meant to her, how they covered the fractures in her heart and made her whole.

“Kona,” she started shifting her weight on her feet, toes digging deep into the sand so she could move closer to him. “I promise to stop worrying so much.” His eyebrow came up and Keira giggled. “Okay, I’m really going
to try
to stop worrying so much.” Kona nodded and Keira caught the quick blink his eyes made, as though Kona was trying his hardest not to cry. “I promise to tell you,
really
tell you, when I’m scared, when I’m not happy. I promise,” Keira closed her eyes, steeling herself, wanting so much for this next promise to be heard, to be believed, “I promise, no more running. I promise I’ll be yours, your Wildcat, your wife, whatever you need.” Keira squeezed his fingers, letting him kiss her forehead as her tears fall. “I promise, bebe, to be your beloved. Always.”

Kona kissed her then, took control of her lips like they were precious, like she was. He didn’t seem to care when the
kahu
fussed at him, when Ransom cleared his throat until Kona pulled away. They didn’t watch the holy man as he dipped a koa bowl into the sea, then a ti leaf, blessing their union with prosperity and health. Kona barely nodded, barely took his gaze from Keira as the
kahu
sprinkled their rings, the platinum bands three times with that seawater before he chanted over them. She barely registered slipping Kona’s ring over his finger, him doing the same to hers. And all the while, those rich, dark eyes stared down at her.

And before the white haired man could finish his blessing, Kona kissed Keira again, hands holding her head still as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, as his moan vibrated against Keira’s lips, as she heard Ransom’s phone clicking a picture, and then the boy and the
kahu
left them alone in front of that altar holding each other, praying that the promises they made would never be tested, that their lives, however difficult, would be lived together, in their always.

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