Chapter 28—Ceilidh

"Lovely!" Fiona squealed as she pinned the last lock in place and Ivette smiled, turning around to look in the mirror.

She was dressed in a stunning floor-length gown that hugged her figure in all the right places. The gown was made of soft, flowing fabric, perhaps silk or chiffon, in a deep shade of green that brings out the color of her eyes.

Its plunging neckline revealed her elegant collarbone and enough cleavage to hold a man's attention. The sleeves were off-the-shoulder, adding an alluring touch to her ensemble, and on her neck sat a simple golden masterpiece.

The dress was adorned with intricate beading and embroidery that sparkled in the light, drawing attention to her every movement. The beading was carefully crafted to accentuate the curves of her body, adding a touch of elegance to her appearance.

Cian had sent it earlier as a gift with the note, "I want to see you in this, lass."

And he'd chosen well.

Fiona had braided her hair intricately in an updo with small braids woven into larger ones to create a stunning yet complicated pattern. Loose tendrils framed her face, teasing her sharp features in a way that could only be considered beautiful.

Her smile broadened and it was the greatest accessory of all. "I love it!"

There was a knock on the door, and Connor's muffled voice could be heard on the other side of the door. "Fio? I couldn't find Drew's dinner plate. Could you help me out with it?"

"Sweetie, I'll be out in a minute!" Fiona said to her husband and pressed a swift kiss to Ivette's cheek, whispering swiftly, "The house will be empty tonight. Make the most of it."

Ivette swirled. "And your Da?"

Fiona smiled at the correct accent behind the word 'Da' and Ivette smiled shyly in return. "Nay. He is out on a visit. He will not be back until tomorrow."

Ivette's stomach twisted—the good kind of twist—and she couldn't help the anticipation she felt.

There was a party—they called it Ceilidh—and they were headed out to the famous Urquhart Castle to celebrate it with the rest of the town.

Ivette had no idea what to expect, but she knew there would be dancing. Fiona had advised that she wore low-heeled pumps for the occasion, and though she usually hated pumps, she knew they'd be better for an entire night of dancing.

Cian had left earlier, needing to take care of some work, he said. Her toes curled as she recalled the kiss they had shared before he'd driven off in his car.

She wanted to see him again, kiss him again, breathe in his scent, touch him...she couldn't get close enough to him or feel enough of him. There was still residual fear within her but she was learning to stifle it. To stifle that voice that spoke into her head and said she didn't deserve the smile on her face or Cian's care and affection.

Because she did.

She deserved to be happy. She deserved the joy she felt in her heart when she was with him.

So she took the first steps toward what she knew would be a new beginning for her. For Cian. And wherever those steps led her, she would embrace them.

****

"Oh!" Ivy exclaimed as she swirled around the dance floor with Cian, her long skirt twirling with each step. Her arms were linked with his, and they moved together in perfect synchronization, their bodies a blur of movement.

The Ceilidh wasn't the most coordinated dance, but it was the best she had had. It was less about performing or exhibiting one's prowess and more about having fun and getting to know new people.

It had been hard to follow the movements at first but after watching Cian do it thrice, she got a hang of it.

She hopped, as did the rest of the females, and Cian caught her waist smoothly and she felt his reluctance to let go.

She grinned and smacked his shoulder while shouting over the loud music, "Don't be a hussy. I'm not going anywhere!"

He caught her fist and placed a kiss on her knuckle before letting her twirl into the hands of his cousin.

A little while later, she was seated beside Cian on the stone steps of the Grant Tower, eyes taking in the breathtaking view before her. The tower was the highest point of the castle and she could see the clear sky of deepest blue as well as the rolling hills and verdant forests stretching out in all directions.

The air was cool and crisp, and the only sounds were of the gentle rustling of trees and the soft murmur of the river below—Cian's steady breathing aside.

She was trying hard to keep her gaze out on the beautiful scenery—no offense to it. It was nearly impossible to when Cian's fingers were stroking the inside of her thighs slowly.

She pulled up the bottle she had snagged from the celebration below and drank directly from it, wincing at the strong acrid taste. "This should be banned," she murmured, lifting the bottle and the moonlight shone upon it, revealing its bare surface without a name tag.

"You drink more than most lads I know," Cian commented, thumb rising higher up her gown. She couldn't remember how his fingers had gotten under the voluminous skirts, but she liked them where they were.

Shifting subtly to get those fingers where she wanted, she said, "I had... difficult days, alone. It helped me get by."

A stroke and she clenched her teeth, swallowing a moan as he said, "Tell me."

She didn't want to talk right now. She wanted those fingers deep within her folds, plunging into her, curling in her. But she knew he'd win if she begged for it, so she spoke, however breathy her voice sounded.

"I started shortly after we lost everything. King Corp went bankrupt and it got so bad, I dropped out of Art School and—"

"Art?" Cian asked, fingers finally reaching the apex of her thighs and feeling the wetness that had dripped from her slick panties. She bit down on her lower lip as his thumb caressed her through the thin material.

He dared to look impassive as he stroked his thumb against her lazily, driving her crazy. So she swallowed her moan again and said, "Yeah, I was..." Her voice trailed as she sighed sharply when his knuckle grazed her again and again. She writhed and shook her head as she downed more of the alcohol in hopes to quench her sudden thirst.

"Yeah," she whispered, dropping the bottle beside her. "I...uh...Visual Arts... Photography."

He paused in his torturous movement and she panted, blinking severally to clear her vision that had blurred from closing her eyes tightly. "You like to take pictures?"

"Yeah...no. I used to. I've grown out of it, I guess."

The stroking resumed and Ivette held the edge of the steps for dear life as she began wiggling her hips against his fingers. "And what do you like now?"

"Your fingers..." she said, unable to think past his fingers moving against her heat, yet not.

"These?" he said and she moaned loudly when he pushed her panties aside and rubbed against her clit with his thumb.

Her mouth watered and her head dropped back as she purred in a way she would later consider embarrassing. "Yes..."

A finger plunged into her and she clenched hard against it, hungry for any form of friction. He groaned when she clenched again and another finger slid into her. His other hand found the plunging neckline of her dress and he tugged it aside, freeing her heavy, aching breast from the thick material.

Pumping slowly into her, he flicked his tongue over her sensitive bud and Ivette trembled with need. Her hips moved against his fingers that pumped in and out of her slick wet heat as he dragged his teeth softly along her nipple.

"Cian," she cried, gripping the stair edge tighter. Her eyes closed tightly as the ecstatic feeling intensified and he squeezed on her breast, sucking it into his mouth while flicking his tongue over it continuously.

Release tore through her faster than she realized and she let out a cry as she fell from the absurd height, shuddering against Cian's fingers that didn't stop moving inside her.

He slid out of her slowly and she spasmed from the sensitivity and intimacy of the movement. Panting, she opened her eyes and looked at Cian.

She wanted to speak, but she didn't trust the words that would leave her lips. Her brain had been turned into tofu.

Cian's hand rose and when his lips darted out to lick her cum off his fingers, her nipples hardened again and her core heated.

She took his hand, leading him back to her wetness but he drew back, arranging her clothes properly instead.

She frowned. "What is it, Cian?"

Adjusting the neckline of her dress, he said, "The things I plan to do to you require the privacy of my home. I will tup you tonight, lass, and you will scream my name for the entirety of it."