Bound by Love (11 page)

As it turned out, he didn’t have to pursue action against him. As you know, from Gabriella’s version of our family history, Ken died in prison. His co-inmates saw him as the scum of the earth he was, and took matters into their own hands. It was never determined who killed him, but he died in a prison brawl only weeks after being admitted.”

Natalie put her hand on Tanner’s thigh and squeezed, reassuringly. She had no words to ease the pain he’d endured.

Tanner had more to say. “William told me he was fond of Caitlyn. I look a lot like her. She had blue-gray eyes, and dark hair. If you saw a photo, you’d know I’m her son.
She was only twenty-seven when she died of cancer, a complication from the abuse. She developed a lump on her liver that was not operable.

So, at the age of five, I was orphaned.” Tanner stopped for a moment to regain his composure before going on. “William opened his home and his heart to me. He’d grown attached from seeing me daily. He thought I was a good boy, and didn’t deserve the cards I’d been dealt.

He’d always wanted a son, so our relationship was as much for him as for me. He arranged an immediate adoption after my mother’s untimely death. I became Steven Tanner Clarke, heir to the Clarke Luxury Brand fortune.

I didn’t care about the wealth or the inheritance. I was a child. I had become used to an abusive situation. And, as William told it, time was required for me to trust my new circumstances.

Being a child, I don’t recall many of the details, but the feeling of loss when my mother died has never left me, ever. I don’t think it ever will. I wanted to save her, but was unable to.
              William was a knight in shining armor, and came to my rescue. We developed a father and son bond. The fact, that he wasn’t my natural father, never affected my admiration and respect for him. In fact, it may have been greater. After all, he willingly took on the responsibility of raising me. And, he knew how I felt about him.

The adoption was a thorn in Gabriella’s side. The idea that an adopted son would inherit the fortune drove her insane. To William, being adopted didn’t make me any less his son. I was his son, and he treated me as such, in every way.

He married Gabriella in an attempt to give me a mother, which he felt I needed. He confided to me once, not long before he passed away, that he’d never loved Gabriella. She was beautiful and intelligent, and he thought to give me a stable home life, with both mother and father. I’m sure he knew it didn’t work out as he’d intended.

I have to face that I’m my father’s son. Biologically, Ken was my father, and I’m his son. He was prone to violence as my early life can attest to.

I want to tell you….I will…what I mean is that I’ve never let any of the violence inherited from Ken Cassel impact my life. For a time, I thought I’d lost control. Until, I found out the story about how I abused Salina that time in North Dakota, was a falsehood, put forth by Gabriella as part of her vendetta against me.

You, of all people, are in touch with my urges, my desires. May they never hurt you, baby. That would be my worst nightmare.”

Tanner went silent. He’d said what he’d needed to say. Natalie shared the knowledge of his past. She knew about him, and still loved him, which she’d told him many times.

He’d had a taste of love, other than a mother’s love, from
Natalie, a brave, loyal, warm-hearted sensual woman.

Tanner had known for some time that
Natalie was his obsession, but could he love? Did he love her?

Everything was new to him. His own feelings were foreign to him. If only he could love
Natalie as she loved him. She deserved love, the love of a man, complete with the intimacy that came with it.

Tanner’s doubts engulfed him.
Am I able to give love?
He wasn’t sure.

             
The confession on the trip to the cottage had left Natalie quiet. Her feelings for Tanner were more entrenched, after hearing the touching story of his childhood, than they’d ever been. His sincerity impacted her. He’d trusted her enough to share his pain. Could he trust her enough to share his pleasure? Could he love her?

             
Talking it out was a big step. She was glad he’d decided to take her away to his country cottage, and glad he’d confided in her. He wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to fight his demons by himself. Maybe if she could convince him of that, he would be able to release all the love he held inside, that he’d probably held inside ever since his mother had died, ever since he thought he’d failed to protect her.

And
, likely, from that early childhood failure was convinced that he didn’t deserve a woman’s love. Or, was it that his ability to love closed off, a normal protective mechanism after the loss of someone as dear as your mother?

             
Natalie was sure Tanner could cast aside his inner demons. He’d be able to share intimacy with her. Or, she was just kidding herself. Maybe the early life trauma would win. Maybe it was stronger than her love for him, and would win out, in the end.

S
he mustered her resolve. That wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. She loved Tanner too much to let him suffer without her. In her state of vulnerability, she followed Tanner into the cottage.

The quaint cottage, set in the green grass of the countryside,
was a classic English style, pale gray outside and all white inside. Natalie walked through with Tanner behind her.

All the walls were stark white
, the floors blond wood, and windows everywhere were decorated with pale blue curtains that were likely never closed. Even the bedding was white, and the bathroom marble was gray and white.

Casually, Natalie opened the closets. She noticed women’s clothing and looked at Tanner, inquiringly. He just shrugged, giving it no significance. She didn’t pursue it.

The kitchen had been fully remodeled within the past few years. It was all dark appliances, still the wood floors and white countertops. The glossy black kitchen was upgraded and modern, in contrast with the lovely period features and rich woodwork. Natalie looked down at the polished wood floor.

“Under
-floor heating,” Tanner informed her, casually.

Natalie smiled. England was cold and wet. Heated wood floors sounded heavenly.

The front room had a white stone fireplace. What caught Natalie’s attention was a beautiful, antique, white baby grand piano in the corner of the room. The lid was open, the piano ready for use, indicating the rare antique was not just decorative.

“I didn’t know you played,” she said, turning to look at Tanner.

“A little,” he responded. “William taught me. He was the talented musician. At one time, concert level, but he never pursued it.”

D
espite Tanner’s stellar qualities, he could be modest, never seeming to brag, but understating. She decided to call his bluff.

“Play something for me,” she asked, sweetly.

Tanner shrugged. He pulled out the piano seat, and sat to open the keyboard. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his wrists. Playing a song he knew well, he had no need of sheet music. Natalie leaned against the piano and looked down at Tanner to watch him as he played.

Elegantly, he began to play Beethoven’s classic Moonlight Sonata, smoothly, perfectly, start to finish. The classical harmony
, with its inner dark resonance, matched Tanner. His emotion seemed embodied in the piece, and came through in his performance, clutching at Natalie’s heart, pulling her into his mood.

When he finished, he sat very still.

              The sad beauty of the song, the quaintness of the cottage, the lovely countryside and Tanner’s newfound trust in Natalie to reveal more about himself, left them both raw with feeling. Every nerve in their bodies seemed tuned to desire for each other.

             
A distant birdcall pierced the tranquility. Tanner looked up into Natalie’s deep brown eyes. She stood and gently lowered the lid of the piano. Without needing his command, she boosted herself up, onto the wooden piano top, and slid over in front of Tanner.

             
She’d worn a soft jersey, travel skirt. Tanner reached under and ran his hands up her thighs. She pulled her knees up, placing her feet on his solid thighs. He removed her soft leather ankle boots and socks, and placed her bare feet, back on his thighs. His baby blue eyes darkened, and he lifted her skirt, laying it back to reveal her lace panties.

             
Natalie leaned back, holding herself up with her arms, watching Tanner’s every move. He reached under her skirt, and Natalie lifted her bottom off the piano lid, so he could pull her panties down. He tossed them aside and took the liberty of gazing, without embarrassment, at her naked pussy. The sight of her sitting fully clothed on the exotic piano, except for her bare pussy made his cock swell and pulse.

             
The silence of the room and the privacy of the setting added an erotic tone, leaving them both taught with arousal. Tanner placed his hands on her inner thighs and opened them for his pleasure. He leaned in to taste her sweet honey, and was aroused further to find that she was dripping wet. He breathed in her female scent, and tasted her sex.

             
Natalie’s soft panting sounded against the sturdy cottage walls giving it a reverberating note of deep sexuality. Tanner kissed all over her wet slit and her smooth mons. Natalie whimpered, uncontrolled. She threw her head back, her long shiny hair touching the antiqued piano surface, making a photogenic scene.

             
Tanner lost himself in her sweetness. His tongue ran wild over her wet slit and dabbed at her tensed clit. She spread her legs further and curled her toes against his muscled thighs, tight under the soft cloth of his pants.

             
Soft light from the overcast skies filtered through the windows, creating varying shades of pale skin and soft fabric. Tanner put himself to his task, having only thoughts of Natalie’s mounting pleasure and his pressing need. His hot mouth and tongue played Natalie’s sensitive tissues with an experienced talent, and her body tensed in anticipation.

             
Tanner had no thought for delay, with only a mind to devour her. Relentlessly, his tongue flicked her tiny pebble clit. He showed no mercy. Natalie leaned back on the piano lid, her legs spread wide. At the moment her orgasm started, she went rigid and her legs stiffened. She pressed her ankles against the sides of Tanner’s body. Obliviously, he continued in his stimulation until her loud, long scream rewarded him.

             
He slowed his movements, moving away from her clit, and kissed and nuzzled her fragrant pussy. His cock nearly burst through the cloth of his pants. He stood and ripped them down, jockeys and all, to let his huge, heavy member spring free. He rubbed his balls and fisted his cock, moaning at the minor relief.

             
Roughly, he lifted Natalie into his arms and was to the wooden dining table in two long strides. He placed her on the thick, table mat covering the sturdy table, and swept aside the useless flower arrangement, letting it drift to the floor with a remote thud.

             
He took Natalie’s skirt by the waist and pulled it down with one strong movement. He ripped off the rest of his clothes and Natalie matched him, ripping hers off with equal speed. He grabbed her above the knees, and pulled her to him. She was on her back. Tanner stood in front of her, at the end of the table.

             
Natalie wrapped her legs around his waist, her feet just above his round, muscled ass. Her dark hair fell in huge waves around her. She looked at Tanner’s huge, needy cock, and moaned. He leaned over and kissed her hard, kissing, bruising. She matched his ferocity, which incited him further.

             
Standing up, he fisted his cock, purposely showing it to her and dangling the masculine display before her eyes, wanting to drive her into a wanton passion. His actions worked as he intended. Natalie’s cunt tightened and hot, heavy heat flowed into her lower body. She squeezed him tighter with her legs, pulling him to her, begging for his entry.

             
Tanner cupped her breasts, kneading and playing. He tweaked her nipples and bent low again to bite them. Natalie squirmed and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling violently, driving him over the edge. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her just slightly over the edge of the table.

             
Lightly, he ran his finger over the tattoo of his name
–
Tanne
r
– over her right hip. The sight of the etching wrenched his heart, and his bulging cock ached with desire.

             
The wet knob of his erection touched her open, wet slit. They groaned in unison, and Tanner plunged his cock deep into her, in one fluid motion. He fucked her with all the pent-up passion she’d released in him. She rocked her hips, matching his strokes.

There was no thought
of time, or ending, only of living in the sensation of the moment for as long as possible.