Always Conall (Bitterroot #2)

BOOK: Always Conall (Bitterroot #2)
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© 2014, Sibylla Matilde

www.SibyllaMatilde.com

 

 

Cover photography by

CJC Photography

www.cjc-photography.com

 

Cover model

Brian Laferriere

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the Sibylla Matilde.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. With the exception of the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

Dedication

To all my girls in Siby’s Flannel Squad. I adore
you ladies… for realsies!

 

Other Novels by Sibylla Matilde

Little Conversations

In the Firelight

Because of Kian (Bitterroot #1)

Prologue

 

Sage

I had to find him.

He couldn’t leave me. Not him too.

He was all I had left. The only person who really seemed to care about me.

The rain poured down around me as I ran down the trails near the lake. The cold water soaked through my clothes, and the branches scratched at my bare legs. A flash of lightning illuminated the hills on the outskirts of Bitterroot, followed by a booming clap of thunder.

Oh, please. He has to be here.

As I came to a clearing near the shore, I saw him. His hair was plastered to his head from the driving force of the rain, and his hands remained stuffed into his pockets. He seemed so… defeated.

“Conall?” I cried.

He turned tormented brown eyes to look at me through the storm. His lanky frame shook with an icy chill and a vivid desperation.

“Beth…” I whispered with a ragged breath, “she said it’s all over school. She said that you’re leaving,”

“I have to, Sage,” he hoarsely ground out. “I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Don’t go,” I sobbed wretchedly, taking a few timid steps towards him. Seeing Conall’s vulnerability was so strange to me. He usually exuded such strength. An overpowering presence. “Please, don’t leave me,” I rasped. “Not you too.”

“It should have been me. Not Matt… It should have been me,” he harshly ground out, looking over the water. Then he jerked and whirled around, angry and unbalanced. He strode towards me, roughly grabbing my shoulders as he shook me. “I’m a piece of shit, Sage. I’m bad luck. A curse, just like my mom told me when she packed up and left.”

“It’s not true,” I argued desperately. “Your mom is a wreck. You can’t believe anything she says.”

“But now you’re mom knows it, too. She sees it. You heard what she said, and she was right. She won’t even look at me because she knows it should
’ve been me.” His voice trailed off. “Everyone knows it. I’ve gotta go…”

Throwing my arms around his shoulders, I pulled myself against him. “No! Don’t listen to her. She’s still in shock. Everybody is. We all wish Matt was here, but not that you were gone instead.” My voice quavered with panic. “Mom will get better. She’ll figure it out. This has just hit her so hard, so soon after Dad, and she’s not herself. Please, don’t… don’t leave. Not you too. I need you.”

His arms closed around me, and he looked down in agony. “No, you don’t, Sage. You think that now, but so much has happened so fast. And I’m just a reminder that he’s gone… of why he’s gone.”

“No! Please,” I desperately whispered. “I love you.”

“Sage,” he whispered, “don’t do this. Don’t say that. I’m not worth it.”

“But I do,” I shook my head defiantly. “I love you, Conall.” A drop of rain fell from the tip of his nose to his full lips, and I pulled myself up to capture it with a clumsy, tremulous kiss. My fingers framed his taut jaw. “I love you,” I hoarsely begged. “Please don’t go.”

“Sage,” he warned. His hands settled at my hips, as though to steady me… maybe even to steady himself. He didn’t pull me closer, but he didn’t push me away either. His raging uncertainty fueled my desperation, and I moved with him, guiding my fingers around his neck and pulling myself closer. Molding myself against his body, I lifted my trembling lips to kiss him again.

For a moment, he stood frozen, shocked by my brazen actions. I pulled my body against him hard, turning my head, increasing the pressure of my lips, pushing my tongue into his mouth.
Kissing him like I’d always dreamed of doing.

He couldn’t leave me. He just couldn’t.

He was all I had left.

I had to make him stay. So I beseeched him with my kiss, my touch, my sheer overwhelming need. I pleaded with the tears that streamed from my eyes and mixed with the frigid raindrops.

“Please, Con,” I whispered. “Please… I need you. I love you.”

And then, as though he was coming alive, his strong hand caught the base of my head, tangling in my hair as he began to kiss me back. The fingers of his other hand slipped up under my wet t-shirt to grip the chilled skin of my waist. The sweep of his tongue wrested a moan from deep in my throat. I needed to get closer, to envelope my body with his. A driving force melded me against him. His thick hardness pressed against my stomach as he voraciously devoured my kiss. Every second of his touch gave me a shard of hope, and slowly the shivers of anguish and despondency began to morph into desire and anticipation.

I began to slowly lower my body, coaxing him down with me to the wet, grassy bank alongside the lake. As though he subconsciously fought gravity itself, tremors pulsed through him all the way down to the sodden ground. For a split second, he seemed to come to, pulling back. My fingers tugged at his shoulders as I lifted my lips back to him, pleading.

“Please, Conall,” I breathed again, not entirely certain what I was asking for. “Please, love me.”

My lips trailed along the cool, wet cords of his neck, tasting the raindrops on his skin and drinking the moisture. With a raspy moan, his resolve abandoned him, and the dammed up emotions surged forth. In a wash of misty rain, we pulled at each other’s clothing, pulling at our own, removing just enough.

The heat of his lips closed over the cold tip of my breast, and the warmth spread through me as he drew on the sensitive flesh. The coarse, frigid denim of his jeans tantalized the tender skin of my inner thighs, and nature guided my legs to wrap tightly around him, pressing my hot, aching center against his hardened length. My icy fingers numbly tugged at the fastening of his jeans, and my hand plunged inside to grip him tightly. Stroking and squeezing, my mind barely registered the initial caress of his hand when he jerked up my skirt and pushed aside my panties. His fingers pressed against the delicate flesh between my thighs, one sweeping into my wet depths and stroking deeply.

“I love you,” I breathed against his chest, simply dying from the blossoming, aching need inside me. One hand still wrapped around him, the fingertips of my other hand slid down his back, clawing at him to come closer, to love me and truly become a part of me. I pumped at his length, pressing the tip against my own hypersensitive skin, massaging it with his unyielding hardness.

In a rush of fervent intensity, I felt the unfamiliar nudge of him against my core before he repositioned marginally, and then, he pushed into me, catching my abrupt scream in his throat. A sharp, searing agony ripped through me as his lips captured my jagged cry.

“Fuck, Sage…” His ragged voice caught in his throat. “You were… Oh fuck…” Raising up slightly onto his elbows to stare down at me in bewilderment. “Fuck,” he exhaled with a harsh breath, “this is wrong.”

“I
’m yours, Con,” I whimpered, welcoming the physical pain as proof of his possession. “I’ve always been yours.”

I threaded my fingers through his messy, wet hair, lifting my face to kiss his bristly jaw. For a moment, Conall stayed still, his breath hot against my cool skin. The rain began to let up, and the discomfort slowly eased between my legs. Carefully, I lifted my hips, tilting them to bring him deeper. My faint, pained gasp sounded in the fractional space between us, and his arms tensed around me. Instinct guided me to rotate my hips yet again, my body craving the still-painful slide of skin.

At long last, he began to move with me, kissing me almost with wonder, enveloping me in his warm, protective embrace. The tender push and pull wrenched soft moans from my throat that seemed to echo along the lakeshore. His kisses trailed across my eyelids and down my cheek. He crushed me against his chest as he gradually increased the speed and force of his thrusts. My response became animalistic, clawing at his wet skin and biting his shoulder to quiet my cries.

I had fantasized about this moment for years. There had never been anyone else in my eyes
… only Conall. But even with all my childish daydreams, I had never anticipated the shattering effects his touch would have on me. Everything from the slide of his thick heat inside me to the heavy caress of his ragged breathing against my hair. A warmth and tightness pulling at my core. It still hurt, but less so. And it was truly nothing compared to what I felt ripping through my heart with every thrust.

It became so frantic and fast.
So careless. God, I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. I had everything I’d ever wanted as he shuddered over me and gripped me to him with a harsh groan. As he poured himself into my body.

Lying cradled against his chest, sheltered from the raindrops by the heat of his torso, I felt a calm that hadn
’t existed in my heart for days. Weeks. Not since Matt died. Not even since my dad months before. A comfort that shouldn’t have been possible on the cold, wet ground. I nuzzled my face against his damp flesh and hugged him to me.

“I love you, Conall,” I breathed, the sound barely audible over the light drizzle of rain around us. Conall
’s fingertips brushed along my shoulder, and a raindrop followed in their wake, causing me to shiver.

“You
’re cold,” his raspy voice whispered, haunted and remote.

“I don
’t feel it. All I feel is you.”

“Fuck,” Conall bitterly
exhaled, the torture of regret unmistakable in his voice. “We shouldn’t have done this. This was a mistake.”

A dreadful, tight sensation squeezed my lungs and stilled my heart. “No
…” My voice sounded thick in my mind, hoarse with the quickening lump in my throat. I drew back to look at him, at his dark coffee-colored eyes filled with remorse. “Conall,” my voice cracked, “don’t say that…” My fingertips brushed against his cheek, and he closed his eyes. His jaw clenched as he turned his head.

“Dammit, Sage
…”

Suddenly, Conall pushed up above me, pulling me to stand with him. He tucked himself back into his jeans,
then turned to help me straighten my soaked, muddy skirt and brush the weeds from my hair.

The rain had almost completely stopped, and an eerie glow hovered in the air around us as the ever-changing sky bestowed a filtered light from the hiding sun. Conall pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard on the temple, then cupped my cheeks and focused intently on my eyes.

“Sage, I’m not staying.”

“No,” I sobbed with desperation. “No, you have to. You can
’t just walk away from this… from me.” I covered his hands with my own, holding them tightly to my cheeks. “You made me yours. I’m yours, Conall.”

“Sage—”

“No, stop it!” The tears earnestly streamed down my cheeks. “You love me. I know you do.”

He shook his head. “I. Can
’t. Stay.” The cold, steel of his voice cut right through me.

“Take me with you, then.”
He couldn’t go. He couldn’t just leave me behind.

“What the hell, Sage? You’re sixteen years old. Your mother would annihilate us both.”

“Ever since Matt died, she doesn’t care about anything anymore. You know that. You’ve seen it!”

“Sage, you’re just a fucking kid! This can’t happen.
None of this
should
have happened!”

I took a step back as the pain morphed to anger. The torture building inside me made me lash out, as though making him hurt could cancel out my own agony.

“I’m just a kid? You didn’t seem to think that a few minutes ago!” I yelled as my hand made a sweeping motion over the ground. “You son-of-a-bitch. You’re just going to leave anyway? After this?”

“What the fuck, Sage? Is that why you did it? Did you think I
’d stay if you let me fuck you?”

My hand slapped hard against his wet cheek before I realized I
’d even moved. Conall’s eyes darkened in anger as I stood shocked and shaking before him.

“I hate you for this.”

He closed his eyes tightly and lowered his face towards the ground. “You should,” he muttered, “I’m sorry… for everything.”

Then he turned and walked away, leaving me to stand in the cool mist along the lakeside. I dropped to my knees in the wet grass, my body wracked by vicious sobs. I couldn
’t breathe normally. Part of me didn’t want to breathe at all. I simply wanted to float away in the fog, an apparition of despair and grief.

I
’m not sure how long I stayed in that little desolate cocoon of hopelessness, but it was almost dark by the time I pulled myself from the muddy bank and lethargically found myself trudging along on the trail towards home. The rain had started up again in earnest, and occasional flashes of lightning flickered in the distant dark clouds. And the ominous atmosphere and empty streets complemented my desolate mood.

My mom barely moved when I came through the door, soaked to my skin and flushed with tears. She didn’t even look at me, at my pathetic appearance. She simply sat huddled in a blanket,
absently staring at a picture of my brother. Broken. Uncaring that life continued on around her. Uncaring that I was still there.

I suddenly felt more alone than I had ever known possible.

The events of the past few months – my dad’s heart attack, the car wreck that took my brother, the fading of my mother’s sanity, and torture of Conall’s soul – it culminated and exploded on that grassy bank as I gave my virginity to the only boy I had ever loved. I’d idolized him forever, worshiped him since I could remember. And with a youthful naiveté, I thought maybe, just maybe, he cared enough about me to stay.

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