Seacliff

Chapter forty-seven: Good morning

1929

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the windows they hadn't shuttered last night. Saoirse blinked awake, smiling already because she felt Sorley's warmth beside her. She spun in his arms to face him and kissed him until he opened his eyes.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice barely there.

He only grinned and seized her lips, then kissing the bite mark he'd left on her neck. Pulling back, he searched her gaze for her approval to proceed further. Saoirse often had to jump early out of bed and leave him hanging, so he never dared to advance things in the morning.

Not today, though. Today, she was on holiday and she pounced on him with all her might.

Sorley obliged, opening his mouth to receive her hungry kiss, letting his hands roam her bare skin. His devotion to her made her feel young, despite the flaws she knew time had etched onto her body. His hadn't changed in the slightest since the first time she'd taken him to her bed. It frustrated her on occasion, but then he paid homage to her flesh with every touch, kiss, and caress, and she let herself get lost in his unconditional love.

She blazed a trail from his collarbone to his navel and stopped to taste the beginnings of his arousal. Sorley gasped for breath, arching his back into her mouth. His helpless hands grasped for purchase at the bedsheets; gibberish spilled from his tongue. She straddled him when the heat subsided, and licked her lips, smirking at his awestruck stare. That little trick always blew his selkie mind to pieces.

He didn't like to be outdone in matters of lovemaking, however, and bolted upright from the bed to toss her down on her back. It was his turn, his fiery eyes told her, vowing to repay her in kind. She braced herself for the barrage of torture that would follow once his hot lips reached her thighs.

His tongue seared her skin and his fingers applied pressure in points he'd learned affected her the most. Moan after moan, her ecstasy heightened and at the crux of it, she begged him to be joined. He could hardly decline. A wave of bliss soon overpowered her, like a ripple of heat from an exploding bomb, and before long he, too, went slack in her arms, sucking at air akin to a drowning man.

Their shared euphoria shattered when someone tried the door.

Saoirse stiffened underneath the feverish body crushing her. Mercifully, the door didn't open and she allowed herself a sigh of relief. She had locked it.

"Mother!" Aidan bellowed on the other side of it, banging his fists on the wood. "Mother, I must write to Jemmy!"

Sorley rolled off her with a chuckle.

"Come, Aidan," James's voice pierced through the thuds, which abruptly ceased. "Let your mother rest. She's on holiday, remember? We promised to let her sleep in."

"But – "

"No buts," James cut in. "A promise is a promise. Now come along. Uncle Natsume is making us breakfast. I'll help you with your letter after we eat."

The boy mumbled something unintelligible. Saoirse wiped sweat off her brow once the voices faded.

"He's a good husband, James," Sorley noted.

"The best." She sat up, combing her fingers through her short hair. Chopping off her long tresses had been one of her most inspired ideas to date.

"I wish I could be your husband."

Her skin prickled as Sorley traced patterns on her ribs and brushed his knuckles along her spine.

"You are my husband," she retorted. "In ways James could never be."

"It's strange, is it not?"

"What is?"

"That he can't... mate."

She twisted around to quirk an eyebrow at him. "Says the man who bedded him in a cornfield."

Sorley rose and reclined against the headboard. "That wasn't strange. That was... desire."

"Well, he only desires men."

"Exactly. How does he breed?"

Saoirse laughed. "I bred for him. Simple." She stood and headed for the washstand. "Please don't ever tell James that you think he's strange. It will wound him."

"No, of course not. I..." He slid to the foot of the bed. His frown reflected itself in her mirror. "I know of selkies who mate as seals because they have to breed, but in their human forms, they... Women desire women and men desire men."

"That's interesting."

"Yes, I suppose it is... It has always seemed strange to me because my human body desires both men and women."

"Given your history, I'd venture to say you prefer women a little bit more than men."

He came up behind her, proving that point, and kissed her shoulder.

"Please, Sorley..." She whimpered. "Our son is waiting for us..."

Either he didn't hear her, or pretended not to, because his hand travelled down her stomach between her thighs and her eyelids fluttered shut.