Chapter 26

 

In a desperate attempt to make things right with Gwen, Crispin flagged down a taxi and had the driver drop them off at a pub near the Lemon Tree Inn. He could tell she was done with walking if not with him. If he had his way, he would have taken her directly to their room to apologize the best way he knew how, with his tongue. As it was, though, he didn’t think she would be up for it… yet. In the meantime, food and wine would have to do.

Gwen was aware of the fact that she had rattled Crispin. In a way, it comforted her to know he cared what she thought, even if just a little. She knew how she felt about him, but he hadn’t yet conveyed the depth of his feelings for her. Even though, she had initially signed on for this so-called agreement, his untimely reminder that their relationship was just a convenient, mutually beneficial arrangement, a friends with benefits, sex for companionship deal, the whole thing had lost its appeal. In the taxi, sitting beside him, Gwen berated herself for believing she could keep her heart out of the bargain. And now, since she had indeed fallen in love with him, all she could think about was how she would feel when they went their separate ways upon their return to Canada.

When they arrived at the pub, Gwen was grateful for the dimly-lit ambiance since she didn’t think she could keep from tearing up much longer. From the moment they arrived, though, Crispin had made up for his recent insensitivity by fawning all over her. Not for a second, was he not touching or soothing her in one form or another.

“I do care about you,” he whispered in her ear at one point. “Very much… maybe even too much.”

Perhaps it was the wine and the desperate lilt to his voice, or maybe because he was just so irresistible in his vulnerability, Gwen couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping her.

“You laugh?” he said with mock indignation. But her smile only brought forth one of his own and he was glad she wasn’t sad. None of this was her fault.

“Oh, Crispin, you are such a contradiction.”

“That I am.”

After an hour of Crispin’s undivided attention, and unrelenting affection, Gwen was about ready for anything with the seductive Goth. It was all she could do to keep him from having his way with her in the secluded booth in the back.

“I don’t know what to think,” Gwen said after they left the restaurant, her knees like jelly.

“Don’t think.” He shrugged, having had the forethought to stop in the shop on the corner for a bottle of red wine.

“I’m already looped from the wine at dinner,” she protested when he snuck into the breakfast room and snatched a couple of glasses. “You might take advantage.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, rushing her into their room and locking the door. He placed the bottle and glasses on the night table. Turning to her, he stalked her like a cat with its prey. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

“Oh, Crispin, I can’t.” She giggled when he caught her and shed her of her clothes, piece by piece, until she stood naked in front of him. “You’re taking advantage of a woman under the influence of alcohol.” Nervous, she wrapped her arms around herself.

Watching her, he couldn’t help but smile. When she blinked her bleary blue-grey eyes at him, he couldn’t keep away if he wanted to.

“Here’s the thing.” Picking her up under her butt, he pressed her bare back up against the wall and smiled at her inebriated face. “While on this trip, I own you.” He nodded at her to drive the point home. “No matter what, I own you. If I feel like fucking you, I will.”

“Right.” She giggled, resting her arms around his shoulders. “Since when?”

“Since you agreed to it, or have you forgotten?”

“Oh, right, this again, of course. I haven’t forgotten, Master Crispin.”

“Much better. So, what do you say?”

“Does it matter?” she asked with a breathy whisper.

“Always…”

“Okay, then what are you waiting for?” She winked then added, “Make love to me, Master Crispin.”

“Cheeky monkey…” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her brow. Clearly, she was not letting up on her terminology for what they were doing, no matter how he tried to swing it. Filled with an odd sense of hope, for whatever reason, he ran with it.

“Aren’t you going to tie me up?” She giggled when he playfully tossed her onto the bed.

“Want me to?” Reaching for his belt, he slowly undressed and quirked an eyebrow. When she shrugged shyly, he knew she did. “Right here on the bed, though, on your back. I don’t think you’re sober enough to tie up to the door.” Taking his belt, he tugged her upright, wrapped it tight around her wrists and flung her onto her back. He then stood still as if in thought. “If I had the right equipment, I would spread your legs apart and tie them down.”

“We could pretend.” She quite eagerly spread her legs and waited for his next move.

He couldn’t contain the smile her boldness brought forth. The girl clearly did trust him and that again gave him hope. “Hmm… as temptings as that is… I have a better idea.”

Running both hands over her flesh, he flipped her on her belly, causing her to squeal in surprise. Unable to resist, he gave her ass a playful slap to which she squealed yet again. He then positioned her head up by the pillows, lifted her upper body to rest on her elbows, her bound wrists in front of her. He next grabbed her hips and lifted her butt up in the air.

“Hey, what are you up to?” she asked, looking over her shoulder, suddenly unsure.

“Never you mind,” he said from behind, warming his hands on her ass cheeks. He then feasted his eyes the gorgeous offering in front of him. Unable to keep away, he knelt behind her, grabbed her thighs and spread them wide. Ready to claim her, he pressed his hard length against her with barely contained restraint.

By now, a nervous wreck, Gwen trembled with anticipation. For all of a second, she feared he might be too rough. Would he just take her like this without any– “Oh, what are you…” The next thing she felt was his face, his warm wet lips between her legs. On his back, with his arms looped around her hips, the crafty Goth had slid up underneath her and was now torturing her with glorious squirm-worthy inner thigh kisses. “Oh… so good.” Before long, his lips found their way to that most sensitive part of her body. There he worshipped her with his mouth, his lips, and his long elegant fingers. “Wow, that is…”

“Delicious,” he answered for her between relentless flicks of his tongue. “Addictive.”

Gwen had never experienced anything quite so intense as this. She so badly wanted to make it last but he was slaying her with each perfectly executed drag of his hot tongue. And if that weren’t amazing enough, what he did with his musician’s fingers was just unfair. She was a quivering hot mess, and before she saw it coming, she was hit with an orgasm so strong, she thought she might disintegrate.

So enthralled was Crispin with his face in such a beautiful place, he couldn’t get enough. He’d had plenty of sex before, tasted many a lady, but none as sweet as Gwen. He was sure, he could die happy right there. Death by drowning in juices so sweet would suit him just fine. What more could he ask for? What more could he want? With that vision in mind, he pressed her down, squeezing the fleshy cheeks of her ass so tenaciously, it caused her to yelp.

The sound caused him to relax his grip, smoothing his hands over the same area. “Forgive me. Did I hurt you?”

“Hurt me?” Seconds later, he was kneeling behind her, soothing the red marks he’d made. “No, Crispin, that was amazing.” Eager for more, she pressed her butt against his thighs as he reached for a condom on the night table.

Unable to resist, he then lined himself up, and after a couple of beautifully executed forceful nudges, he entered her.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she cried at his most welcome intrusion.

“So fucking hot,” he growled in response. Leaning over her, he wrapped his arm around her chest, resting his head on her shoulders. She was perfect in every way. Never had he felt this level of intensity and desire with another. He was fucked and he knew it. “You’ll only rip my heart out.”

“Crispin?” Hearing him, she tried to turn but he stilled her and pressed her back down.

“No! Just fucking stay as you are.” With his hands on her hips, he then once again started to move, thrusting greedily into her body, slamming his thighs against her.

After a few punishing thrusts, Gwen didn’t know what to think. She shouldn’t like this so much. But the harder he went, the hotter she got. Before long, she came apart, a helpless rag doll in his arms. Seconds later, he tightened his grip on her hips and came inside her before finally collapsing exhausted on top of her.

Silent minutes passed before either of them moved. Eventually, Crispin got up with much reluctance and went into the bathroom. When he returned, he grabbed the bottle of wine, the glasses and poured them each a cup. He then scooped her up onto his lap and sat up against the headboard with her cradled into his chest.

“You okay?” He pressed a kiss on her temple, held her close, stroking her hair.

Gwen could only nod. She was so overwhelmed with emotion and afraid to speak. He then offered her a glass of wine. With her wrists still bound, she accepted it, however awkwardly. “Aren’t you going to untie me?”

“Not just yet.” He took his glass and clinked it against hers.

“What are we toasting?” she asked after taking a sip.

“Our reunion, after all these years.” Taking the glass from her, he then proceeded to offer her sips from his, taking one for himself in between. “In a way, you’re my oldest friend. The closest thing I have to family.”

“Wow…”

“Wow, is right, in more ways than one,” he said with a sigh. “What are the chances? It kinda blows me away.”

“Yeah, that is something, isn’t it,” she said with a smile, relieved to hear he was happy about it. She had been worried it might complicate their relationship somehow. “I can finally thank you properly.”

“Thank me?”

“For saving me from those mean boys.”

“If only I’d gotten there sooner, you would’ve kept your clover.”

“It’s kinda funny and weird that your last name is Clover.”

“Is it?” he asked.

“Well, it’s quite the coincidence, don’t you think?” She giggled.

“Not really,” he said with a shrug. “Actually, I should be thanking you for that. You and your clover made such an impression on me. I never forgot it. As soon as I could, I made it my last name.”

“What?” She turned and blinked at him, surprised.

“Well, why not? It’s not like I had a proper surname. Just some random name assigned to me, Hewson or Johnson, or whatever. I can’t say for sure because I don’t even remember. All I know is from that day forward, I named myself Crispin Clover and never looked back. At sixteen, I made it official, and here I am.”

“But you kept your first name, Crispin?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I kinda always like my name for whatever reason.”

“I’m glad you kept it. I like Crispin, it’s different.”

“You mean weird,” he said with a wink.

“Unique,” she corrected him. “Wow, this is a lot to take in.” She exhaled, resting her head on his chest, her head spinning from it all, not to mention the wine.

“Welcome to my messed-up life.”

“I have so many questions, but I’m getting sleepy,” she confessed. “Plus, I don’t want to upset you.”

“Go ahead, ask me anything.” He shrugged. “Blame it on the wine, but I find myself in a rare chatty mood. Besides, I haven’t much to tell. I have no past. No family to speak of. You’ll get bored rather quickly or fall asleep listening.”

“That’s just so sad.”

“It is what it is. Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity.”

“Not pity, but it kinda breaks my heart, Crispin. If you would only untie me, I’d give you a big old hug.”

“And that is why I haven’t.” He chuckled and held her tighter. “You’ll have to settle for me hugging you.”

“That only makes more curious,” she said.

“How so?”

“Well, you’re so affectionate,” she explained. “You’re so giving, and attentive to me. Yet you hate being touched. You don’t like it when I touch you.” He nodded as she spoke and his patience impressed her yet again. “At first, I thought it was your way of seducing me, but it’s not only leading up to sex. It’s all the time and especially after sex. You’re so thoughtful with the way you hold me, like right now.”

“Would you rather I get up and leave you be?” he asked. “Am I smothering you?”

“No way!” she said. “I love this about you. I just wonder why you’re so good with me?”

“Because… I like you, and because none of it’s your fault.”

“What’s not my fault?” she asked, curious.

He took a deep breath before speaking. “My issues are not your fault, and just because I’m fucked up doesn’t mean I should take it out on you. You’re a sweet and loveable woman and deserve to be treated as such. Besides, I can’t keep my hands off you.” He gave her a squeeze.

“Don’t you deserve the same?” She giggled when he nipped at her earlobe. As cozy as she was in that moment, in his tender embrace, she couldn’t help but want to know more about him. Ever since discovering he had grown up in foster homes, she had gotten it in her head that maybe his aversion to being held had something to do with abuse. Perhaps he had been victimized and it broke her heart to think it but it would make sense if that were the case.

“I apologize if I come across as clingy,” he interrupted her thoughts. “It has been known to happen.”

“No, you’re more cuddly than anything.” She giggled when his shuddered at the word. “You know what I mean, my sweet cuddly Goth.”

“Well, that’s a new one,” he said with a smile. “But I never said anything about not liking you touching me.”

“But whenever I try, you pull away. And last night when I hugged you, it was like the end of the world. Then today at lunch–”

He cut her off mid-sentence with a kiss. “I’ll probably regret this,” he said with a sigh, gazing into her eyes. “But I can’t fight you off any longer.”

“Regret what? Did something bad happen to you? You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing like that.” He rested his head on hers, lightly stroking her arm. After a moment’s hesitation, he undid the belt and released her wrists. “Go ahead, do your worst.” Resting his back against the headboard, he closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.

“I only want to hold you.” She pressed a kiss over his heart and tightened her grip on him. He was as stiff as a board for a painful minute but she refused to let him go. It felt good to return the affection, to be on the giving end. Just like the night before, he let out a borderline painful whimper before giving in. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her impossibly closer.

“It’s not about me not liking your touch,” he said tightly. “It’s the opposite. I want it so much, I crave it.”

“I don’t understand.”

With a laboured breath, he attempted to explain, “Growing up the way I did, without love, without affection, it did something to me. It left a mark, a giant hole in my heart which can never be filled. I’m a walking open wound vulnerable to infection at every turn.”

“Infection?” she repeated, confused. “From what?”

“Love…”

“You think of love as an infection?” she asked. “Is this the Goth in you speaking?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said with a sigh. “This is my reality speaking.”

Gwen could only frown. “Oh, come on, Crispin! Please stop.” He was killing her with his words, yanking on every last one of her heartstrings, and the wine induced haze only made it worse. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“It’s the truth, Gwen! It’s my truth.” In an effort to silence her while he got the words that weighed heaviest on his heart out without interruption, he cupped his hand over her lips and waited. Only when she nodded, did he again speak the phrase that he’d held inside forever, never before spoken aloud to anyone else’s ears.

“Listen to me carefully… Love, much like a human, is parasitic in nature. It makes you crazy with want of it.”

“Crispin…”

“No, listen, while I have it in me to speak of. Normal people receive love the moment they are born. Their mother takes them in her arms, the baby receives unconditional love. When you don’t experience that, you’re essentially lost. Think of love like a disease, such as the flu or small pox. If you’ve never been exposed to it, or had the vaccine, then you’re basically fucked.” Only then did he remove his hand from her lips.

“Whoa… are you saying, you have no resistance to love because you’ve never been loved?”

Unable to respond, he nodded in silence before finding his voice once again. “Worst part is, I am an unlovable human being.”

“That’s impossible!” she protested, refusing to accept his point of view. “Just how drunk are you?”

“Then how would you explain my existence?” he growled in response. “Why is it no one wants me? Why is it I can’t have a normal relationship? Why am I so easily cast aside?”

“Wait… is this about the bracelet?” she asked. “Or the girl you bought it for?”

“Sort of, yes, but it goes way back,” he explained. “Gracie was just the last straw. I’m not angry at her. She never made me any promises. I was the fool who wanted to force our casual relationship into something more. Being around Becky and Kell made me realize how much I wanted what they had. Then Dorian showed up with Heather. Now they can’t keep their hands off each other. Keegan already left once because of a girl.”

“Oh, Crispin…”

“The whole point of this trip was to go off on my own, to get used to being alone,” he forged on, determined. “Then you come along and ruin it with your eyes of blue-grey. Try as I might to keep this casual, I’m failing miserably all over again. Only this time, I won’t survive it, I just know it.”

“You don’t know that.” She hugged him tighter but before she could say anything else, he started up again. Not wanting to interrupt, she kept quiet.

“No one ever wants me for long. Once you find out how hollow I am, you’ll toss me away like everyone else. Gwen, you’re not the first woman to cause me to let my guard down. I’m my own worst enemy. I have no natural defence against forming attachments with people who only end up tearing my heart out when they leave. As hard as I try to be cold and heartless, I fail every time. I’ve known you for what? Less than a week and I’ve already fallen for you. What does that say about me?”

“Uhh…. well, it’s been an intense couple of days, and I’m trying very hard not to take offence to that, given the circumstances.”

“Please don’t. Whatever this is, between us, it’s more real than anything I’ve felt before. Only I’m afraid to believe it. I’m afraid to allow myself to think it.” This time it was Gwen who cupped her hand over his mouth. With much reluctance, he gave a small nod.

“What I was going to say is that even though it seems impossible, you still have hope. Somewhere along the lines of your childhood, you must have encountered a tiny bit of love because if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be open to it or give it so freely.” Removing her hand, she then kissed him and smiled into his sad eyes.

“In reality,” he said pensively, “I should be a cold-blooded psychopath, unable to form bonds, or feel empathy. Perhaps that would have been easier, not to care. It wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Don’t you ever say that again or even think it!” Shocked, she grabbed his head between her palms and glared at him. “You’re the complete opposite. When you push me away, you’re only fighting your true nature.” Her eyes softened when he met her gaze. “That’s probably why it hurts so much. When you try too hard to be what you’re not, you become that contradiction I mentioned earlier.”

He flashed a melancholy smile at her thoughtful expression. “You’re too perceptive, too smart. Which makes you even more dangerous. You’re unlike anyone I’ve met before and I don’t know how to keep you out of my heart. All I know is I’m tired, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Just answer me one more question so I understand.” When he nodded, she continued. “Do you like being held or not. Are you afraid of being held?”

He slowly shook his head and took a deep breath for courage. “I don’t like it. I love it.” His voice came out a mere whisper but she held onto every single word. “I crave it. Can’t get enough of it. It’s what I want more than anything. It’s why I fight the urge to give into it.” The entire time he spoke, he stroked his fingers through the strands of her dark hair. “I’m not afraid of being touched or held. I’m afraid of getting accustomed to it, addicted, knowing I’ll be without it soon after.”

She let his words sink in before asking her next question. “So then, is the bondage thing just to keep me from holding you? Because you think you might get used to it and you’re afraid of not having it later? If I decide to leave you?”

“When… not if you decide to leave. It’s all just a matter of time,” he whispered with a smile of surrender. She was tired and starting to drift off. It didn’t surprise him. He had a way of wearing people out. “Smart girl, you’ve almost figured me out. But it’s more than that. Besides finding bondage sexy as fuck, there is another reason of which I’m completely aware.”

“What’s the reason?” she murmured sleepily.

“To keep you from leaving me,” he explained.

“Ohh… but…”

Once again, he cupped his hand over her mouth. “See, I love the control, the security I have during that moment. I feel I can let my guard down without the fear of abandonment hanging over my head.” He slowing withdrew his hand from her lips. “Crazy, I know.”

“It’s not crazy at all,” Gwen murmured. “It makes a lot of sense.”

“I suppose… so there you have it. I’ve opened up my deepest, darkest fears to you. You have my messed up heart and soul on a silver platter. Do with them what you will.”

“You have a beautiful heart, Crispin. And a lovely soul.” She nestled into him further, so relaxed was she.

“Right, we’ll see about that when you wake up in the morning.” Sure enough, she would wake up and realize he wasn’t worth the bother. “Once the wine buzz clears and reality comes crashing through this fictional fantasy of yours, you’ll see me for who I really am.” When he paused to look at her, he smiled and chuckled lightly. She had fallen asleep, just like that, no cares in the world. How much had she actually heard? Exhausted from having spilled his guts, Crispin pulled the covers over them both and drifted off as well.