Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

He cocked his head. ‘Oh yes?’

‘Yes. Nothing difficult, don’t worry. I won’t overtax your talents.’

Iron and ice flashed in his beautiful eyes, and I felt his grip tighten on me. ‘There’s nothing you can teach me!’

‘Really? How about a little onomastics?’

He froze, blinking up at me. ‘Pardon?’

‘Onomastics. The science of names.’ Moving my mouth to his ear, I whispered, ‘Say my name, Sir. Go on.’

‘Y-your name?’

Had Mr Rikkard Ambrose just stuttered?

‘Yes. My name. And I don’t mean “Victor”.’ My lips caressed his earlobe, making him tremble. ‘Say my real name.’

Silence. That was all I heard from him. Utter, unbreakable silence.

‘Say it,’ I encouraged. ‘Say my name.’

Again - silence.

‘What?’ I baited, gently biting his earlobe. ‘Afraid?’

His muscles hardened, his hands clenching around me. His lips moved - but still, no sound came out.

‘Lillian,’ I whispered into his ear. ‘Try it. It’s easy. Just three syllables.’

He was breathing heavily. I could feel him tremble above me. To anyone else, it might seem laughable. Ridiculous even. Why be this upset about a bloody name?

But I understood. This was about reality. About the real me - which, up until now, he had never allowed himself to see. If he did this, if he truly acknowledged who and what I really was - a girl in his arms - and, more importantly, what I was to him, then there would be consequences. Rikkard Ambrose was a real man. A man who dealt in cold, hard facts and unshakable decisions. Once he acknowledged me, acknowledged us, there would be no turning back.

In the moonlight, I saw him wet his lips. He swallowed once, hard. Then he parted his lips.

‘Lillian.’

The word was a whisper, a cool breath against my skin.

Sighing, I pressed myself into him, feeling a tug in my chest. ‘Again.’

‘Lillian.’ His arms tightened, and he pulled me so hard against him it was almost painful. But I would rather have died than protested. ‘Lillian!’

Suddenly, he pulled back far enough so he could see me. His eyes were searing into me with cold fire. ‘Now you! Say my name!’

‘Of course…’ Grabbing his face, I pulled him back towards me until his ear was once more beside my lips - and smiled, wickedly. ‘…Mr Ambrose, Sir.’

A half-growl, half-laugh erupted from his chest. In an instant, he had rolled me over and claimed my mouth, saying with silence what he was not yet ready to say with words.

*~*~**~*~*

I didn’t need to use any ‘glove finger’ that night. We were too busy kissing, too busy revelling in the newness of it all, whispering our names to each other and lying in the darkness, to think of the possibilities beyond.

Sometime during the night, we fell asleep in each other’s arms, until…

Knock, knock, knock.

‘Sir?’