Rouge: Act 4 – Scene 41

Lacey

After a few more minutes, Kian takes my uninjured hand in his and wraps his arm around my waist to help me up the slippery stairs to the bridge. The navigation panel there is full of screens and faint red, green, and yellow buttons that glow against the window. He gets behind the controls and flicks lights on while I sag into the co-captain’s chair next to him.

It’s dim enough inside now to ensure we’re not a noticeable beacon in the middle of the lake while also giving us visibility in the room. It’s nearly pitch black beyond the window, giving me peace that we’re alone. But as I glance out onto the water, my reflection in one of the side mirrors catches me off guard.

My aches and pains reached their peak bruising yesterday. Some of the scratches have begun to heal as well. I woke up this morning and the red spots underneath my eyes had disappeared, too, thank God. But his fingerprints are still there, dark and ugly in my reflection.

More than anything Monroe did, those are the bruises I hate most. Kian’s fingerprints were a morale boost and helped get me through the worst of my time locked away. Once they fully disappeared I had a mini meltdown, and I’ve wanted them back ever since.

Monroe’s bruises, however, make me nauseous and the overwhelming need to get rid of them shocks through me.

“I want them gone,” I whisper.

I’m already unwrapping my trench coat when Kian glances up from the controls.

“You want what…” His voice drifts off. Whatever he sees on my face makes him jolt out of his seat and he leaps toward me to cup my cheek. “Lace, what’s wrong?”

My cheek. He used to calm me just by gripping my neck, but he’s been afraid to so much as caress it.

I need more.

“Please, Kian.” My voice is frantic as I shuck my coat and toss it to the side, popping off one of the buttons on my tunic dress with the force. Now that I’m free of the fabric, I can’t stop myself from scratching at my neck.

“Lacey, stop it,” he growls and snatches my hands.

Emotions flood his face as he locks his eyes where I clawed myself. Rage, anger, guilt… but I don’t want any of that. Anxiety is crushing my chest and I can’t help the pitch my voice has risen to.

“I need these gone. He’s gone, but his bruises aren’t. Please, make them go away. I can’t have them on me anymore. He can’t be the last one to mark me.”

“Shh, tine, calm down. It’s alright. I’m—” He swallows as his eyes dart over the bruises. “I’m sorry I let this happen. If I’d gone up there when you called—”

“Stop! I don’t need sorry. I need these gone. Please. His… his marks, his touch. I can’t stand it. I need yours.”

“Fuck,” Kian growls and carves his hand in his hair. “I’m not fecking doing the same thing he did.”

“Do something, please.”

I don’t know what the hell has come over me. All I know is that even though Monroe is likely either dead or dying right underneath our boat right now, I won’t be completely free of him until the marks he left on me are gone, too. My eyes brim with tears and I’m nearly hysterical before Kian rips off his jacket and picks me up by my thighs.

He carries me to the captain’s chair and sits with me straddling him, raising my dress to my hips where his hands grip my upper thighs. I hold on to him as he switches off the overhead bulbs, leaving only the outer safety lights. We’re cast in darkness but for the glowing LEDs around his chair and the buttons on the navigation panel.

I’m almost afraid he won’t be able to see the bruises well enough to erase them, but as his eyes home in on one specific area, my heart skips with anticipation. When he gently wraps his hand on my nape and brings my neck down to his lips, I finally begin to feel peace.

He sucks hard at my skin, just underneath my jaw. That area doesn’t hurt at all, and the tentative way he’s increasing pressure feels like he’s testing me for pain. As he marks me, he cradles my tender neck, preventing me from moving it at an odd angle. His tongue joins in to caress my bruising flesh, springing tingles of pleasure throughout my body. I moan and grab on to the back of the captain’s chair as I grind against him.

My breath hitches as he finds where Monroe’s hands were. Kian’s movements are more wary now, and he begins to suck so gingerly that I don’t feel it at first. But as he increases pressure once again, his mouth becomes deliciously painful on my skin while still managing to leave my sore throat muscles alone.

“Is this what you need, Lace?” he whispers as he drifts down. “You know what to say if you want me to stop. Say it for me once, and tell me you’re mine.”

“Is tú mo rogha,” I whisper as I press his head against me, telling him I can take more. “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours.”

His mouth moves about my neck as he clasps his lips around each and every bruise left by Monroe’s fingers. Kian’s sucking bites, licks, and kisses are gentle and possessive as he leaves marks of his own. The ones that I crave.

While he’s being so careful with me, I’m the opposite. My uninjured hand yanks a handful of his hair every time he tries to let up. I want him to be ruthless.

He nips me below my ear in retaliation, but it only elicits a moan from me and I shift on top of his hardening cock.

“Do you think you’re in charge, wife?” he whispers against my neck. “Because you are. You have me, Lace. I’m yours. Take what you need from me.”

I let go of his hair and try to unzip his pants, but my broken wrist makes it difficult. When I whine my frustration, he jerks his zipper down and releases his cock from his boxer briefs. I quickly stretch my panties to the side so I can be skin to skin with his bare shaft.

The metal barbell at the end is warm but cooler than my aching hot core, and I shift to rub my clit against it. When the ball hits that little bundle of nerves just right, I cry out and Kian curses against my throat.

Even though I’m not wet enough, I take him in hand and fit him at my entrance before I shove myself down. My channel’s resistance makes me whimper and he growls underneath me.

“Fucking hell.” His hands drop to my waist as I try to move. “No. You’re not fecking ready.”

“I don’t care,” I hiss back, but he stops me from riding him and I grunt my frustration.

He captures my lips in a kiss, distracting me as he nimbly unclasps the front of my tunic dress until he’s unbuttoned me completely and the fabric drapes around us.

“What’re you doing?”

Instead of answering, he tugs down my bra and leaves my lips to lave my nipples. His warm, velvet tongue is nirvana and I hold his hair like reins to latch him to my breast. He takes it in his mouth and swirls around my pebbled areola before using the same hard suction he applied to my neck.

His hand on my upper back guides me like it would in a dance, and he uses the control to get more of a mouthful while his other hand travels to my center. I’m fluid in his arms as he flicks over my sensitive peaks and plays with my clit. When he bites and clamps his teeth around me, creating new marks that are just ours, pleasure sweeps through me.

“Oh my god.”

A gush of desire flows from my core to drench his cock. He murmurs a curse against my breast before settling back against the headrest, leaving cool air in his wake.

“There it is, baby. Fuck, I’ve needed you.”

“I’ve needed you, too, Kian.”

Reaching between us, he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock to help coat it in my arousal. When he’s as wet as I am, he slowly thrusts up and down, setting our pace and he eyes our connection greedily.

“Goddamn, look at us, Lace.”

While grasping the captain’s chair, I lean back to admire his shaft glistening in the dim light as he eases in and out of me. His strokes are long and sensual, and they glide his piercing over my G-spot, giving me full-body shivers with every inch.

Keeping one hand around my waist to maintain our rhythm, he splays the other across my lower belly.

“You’ll take my name, Lacey. Stolen or not, you’ll be a McKennon.”

“I’ll be a McKennon,” I whisper with a small nod as I slide down him again.

“You’ll have my child… or three.”

“I want that, too. Wh-what else?” I ask.

“We’ll live life our way.”

“Our way,” I whisper in agreement, invigorated by the promise.

He teases my clit once before his hand leaves my stomach, making me mewl my frustration. I want to come so badly and I need his tongue, teeth, fingerprints, cum inside and out. I need him. I want it all so I can forget that I was ever away from his arms.

His fingertips, warm and damp with my arousal, return to grip the back of my neck. He squeezes lightly, stealing my breath before he kisses me hard.

And finally his pace quickens.

It’s a dance we’re still so new at together, but God, do I love him as a partner. He protects my neck from moving too much even as he pounds into me at a blissfully hard and fast pace. I meet him stroke for stroke, using my thighs to rise and fall on his thick cock. His piercing slides along every inch of my sensitive channel, hitting my G-spot with each thrust.

He kisses me and we mimic our dance below with our tongues and lips above. The motion gives me what I want in no time. When the ecstasy becomes too much, I collapse against his chest, suddenly weak with the need to come. But he slows down right before I begin my ascent.

“No, no, no…”

“Say the words, wife, and I’ll let you come.”

The words. It only takes a second before I realize what he’s asking for.

I wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him fiercely before I whisper against his lips.

“Is tú mo rogha, Kian.”

He growls into my mouth and his voice is rough when he replies. “I choose you, Lacey.”

I expect him to lose all control and pump into me with wild abandon to get me to come, but he doesn’t. Instead, he makes me realize there’s more to us, just as he’s always done.

We lock eyes as he moves in slow, deliberate thrusts. Emotions well within my chest, threatening to break free, made heightened when he sucks my neck again. It’s painful, but I fucking love the rush of it. My skin begins to ache and just when I’m about to use my safe word, he lets go and slams into me one last time.

Sensation floods my veins and my orgasm sends me spiraling. I scream his name as he rolls underneath me, hitting that spot where I need him most.

“Kian!”

“Fuck, Lace.”

He pushes my hips down, pressing his piercing deep inside me to completely fill my channel. As he holds me to him, he rocks inside me and jets of cum coat my core.

We cling to each other and emotions throb in my veins. When my breaths stop racking through me in heavy pants, I whisper against his neck.

“I love you, Kian McKennon.”

He shivers underneath me and pulls away to look into my eyes.

“I love you, too, Lacey McKennon.”

He grips my hips to steady me as he reaches to switch on a dim light. It moves the mirror that started all of this and he tips my chin to the light.

“Is that better, mo thine?”

Monroe’s fingerprints might still be there, but I can’t see them past the dark purple and red already blooming over every inch of my neck from Kian’s lips. When his fingers drift along his possessive marks, I meet his eyes in our reflection.

“It’s perfect.”

He points to a screen on the navigation board. A quarter of the monitor is full of numbers and calculations, while the rest shows where the boat’s security camera has been trained on the deck. Thanks to the moon and the lights from the boat, I can see the smooth, placid water where we sank Monroe.

“Still no bubbles,” I whisper.

“Nope. And the right side of this screen shows the levels left in the heliox tank. He hasn’t used it in almost two minutes. Which means… we were in heaven while he was sinking to hell.”

My small smile grows wicked at the thought. “He’s gone.”

“He’s gone,” he repeats as he turns my face. His dark gaze makes my chest flutter and his fingers are featherlight as they graze my neck.

“No man will ever mark you again.”

“I’m yours,” I answer without hesitation.

He grunts his approval and shifts underneath me again. I hold on to his shoulders to keep from moving and I’m about to ask what he’s doing when he pulls out a flash of silver from his pocket.

“You asked what happens next. I know something we can do.”

“What’s that?”

He cradles my injured hand in his before securing my wedding ring on my ring finger.

“You got it back,” I gasp.

“I did, and I never want you to take it off. Marry me, Lace. Again. I want the world to finally know you’re mine and I’m yours. And I want you to admit it, too.”

His eyes glitter from the moonlight behind me and my heart skips a beat before I kiss his lips.

“Yes, Kian. Make me yours. Forever. I want to marry you.”

“I have one condition, though. You remember when we were texting and I bet that I could prove you weren’t afraid of me?”

“I lost and… and you said you’d save it for a rainy day.” A smile lifts my lips and I glance out the window where the rain falls gently on the lake. “You calling on it now?”

“I am…” His lips curve into a mischievous smile and mine can’t help but do the same. “But it’s going to drive your mam fecking mad.”