Bronwyn knew she was dreaming. It was the surroundings and the way Ciara looked at her. They were floating in a sea of warmth and tenderness. It was a dream, but at the same time, it felt so real. The way Ciara touched her, kissed her, caressed her. She felt herself slowly drifting from sleep to wakefulness but didn’t want to wake up. In her dream, Ciara tenderly made love to her. With slowness and grace, she had never known. She was ready to give in herself.
She stirred. Still clinging to her dream, she heard herself moan, she was so aroused, her nipples were rock hard, and she could feel the moisture seeping out of her.
Bronwyn noticed her rapid breathing as she slowly woke. There was something else. She felt Ciara’s tongue on her breast, her hand cupping her mound, a finger caressing her clit. The orgasm jolted her awake. She moaned and spread her legs for her lover, inviting her to ride her orgasm with her. She felt her fingers penetrate her with force and bore down, still panting. She moaned and spat out Welsh praises.
As her orgasm subsided, she finally caught her breath. The room was still dark, Ciara was spooning her side, she felt the fingers slowly leave her and resume their position cupping her mound. She slowly kissed a trail from her chest up her neck.
“Good morning, dear.” Her husky voice whispered close to Bronwyn’s ear.
“Good morning, Ciara bach. What have you just done to me?” She was still trying to get her bearings.
“I’m sorry, dear. It was so tempting. Waking up next to you always turns me on. I wondered if I could gently wake you up like this.” She kissed her between words.
“You woke me up, alright.” Bronwyn groaned and turned slowly towards her. “I never had a wake-up orgasm.”
“So you’re not angry?” There was caution in her voice.
“No. But I think I prefer to be really awake so we can both enjoy it.”
“Oh, I prefer you to be awake even more.” Ciara’s voice was a low growl.
“Thank goodness.”
Ciara took her hand and slowly pulled it down. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” She whimpered.
Bronwyn knew Ciara was as wet as she was, but she still guided her hands between her own thighs first. She coated her hand with her juices, and she knew Ciara had noticed. She sighed as Bronwyn’s wet hand slid between her folds. Bronwyn leaned in for a fierce kiss, her tongue entering Ciara’s mouth the moment her fingertips found her clit. She felt her arch into her touch, which she kept painfully light. She rubbed in a quick but feathery rhythm and broke their kiss when she felt Ciara arch back. She had never seen her come so quickly. Her orgasm was strong and loud.
“Morning sex is the best sex, isn’t it?” Ciara grinned.
“It’s certainly more fun when both are awake.” Bronwyn teased her. “What time is it?”
“No idea.” Ciara fumbled around her bedside table and found her mobile phone. She held it to her ear and fiddled with the screen. “Six thirty.”
Bronwyn pulled up her duvet. “Harrisson wants to be here about ten. So we have plenty of time.”
“Anything special on your mind?” Ciara tugged at her duvet, trying to slip under it.
Lifting the fabric, she rolled over and pressed herself against Ciara, who was mounting her thigh.
“I wish you’d brought your rubber cock.” She felt Ciara’s thigh press against her.
“Sorry, next time.” She pulled in for a kiss.
Bronwyn lowered her leg a little as she began to ride her thigh. She felt Ciara take hold of her full breasts, massaging and tugging at the nipples. Groaning, she replaced her thigh with her hand. She stroked and massaged Ciara’s clit, slipping two fingers inside from time to time, thrusting deep as she lifted herself off Ciara’s thigh. “I need you inside me, please.”
Ciara nodded, moving her hand down, parting her lips and entering her, curling two fingers inside, she knew the kind of relief Bronwyn needed and she felt her bear down as she brushed against her g-spot. She felt Bronwyn’s finger leave her and moaned as she felt it probe her bottom carefully.
“Yes, please.” She whispered as Bronwyn carefully pushed a wet finger inside her. She mirrored the rhythm Ciara was pacing inside her and slowly moved her finger deeper and deeper inside her. They were both close to orgasm and Ciara reached down with her free hand, frantically rubbing her clit as Bronwyn fingered her ass. Knowing the right moment had come, she curled her fingers against her G-spot and they both joined in a powerful orgasm.
The young girl from reception had led Harrison to the small breakfast area of the restaurant. Evans’ shock of black curls stood out in the room and combined with Ciara O’Riordan’s wavy auburn hair; spotting them was more than easy. He paused at the entrance for a second, watching them. The Sergeant was already dressed for work in one of her grey suits and a white blouse. Miss O’Riordan, on the other hand, was dressed more casually, looking more like someone enjoying a nice little outing. He smiled solemnly, their outing was about to end in a few minutes, and he was the one who had to end it.
As he approached them, Evans noticed him and he guessed from the way she leaned towards Ciara and informed her of his arrival as well.
“Good morning. Evans, Ciara.”
“Sir,” Bronwyn nodded, and Ciara turned towards him. “Good morning. Have you got time for a cup of tea, or have you just come in to steal Bronwyn away?” Her smile was open and friendly.
Weighting the file in his hands, Harrison glanced from one to the other. He would have preferred to discuss the new developments with Evans alone, there was no need to involve Ciara any more than she already was. On the other hand, she had already brought them some useful information.
“Oh, I think we have time for a cup. But coffee for me, please. I’ve brought some files for you to go through.” He handed them to Bronwyn, who immediately began to leaf through them.
Harrison stopped a waitress to order coffee while Bronwyn started reading.
“I contacted that Reverend of yours, he was quite helpful where to dig for information.” Harrison sat back as the waitress put his coffee down.
“Mhmhm,” was all Evans replied.
“So, you found something?” Ciara again turned to the DCI.
“Quite.” It was Bronwyn who answered. “Sir, how did you do that?”
Harrison laughed. “It was a group effort. We had someone dig through the archives and cross-referencing the few church records available online with names, we might have on record. And we had the Reverend’s mate, what did he say? His tennis mate? Father Richards. He gave us the correct name of the group. The Quintinian Club, more like a ‘coven’.” He snorted.
Evans turned a few more pages. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the curiosity on Ciara’s face.
She reached out and touched her lover’s hand. “I’m sorry, Ciara bach.” She looked over at Harrison, her eyes asking for permission. “Sir?”
Harrison rolled his eyes, but finally answered Ciara’s question, “We don’t have much yet. But there seems to be a cluster of domestic abuse around this Quintinian club. They keep their list of members pretty close to the vest, but once we knew what we were looking for, names started popping up here and there. We need to work out where to go from here.”
Bronwyn nodded. “What’s the connection with Mrs Smith? If I read the files correctly, and to be honest I only skimmed through them, we have three cases of domestic violence. All three have never gone to court, and all three have links to the Quintinian Club. There are,” she turned a page, “at least two other cases where the perpetrators could be linked to the club.”
“Yes.” Harrison nodded.
“Do we know if Mr Smith is a member?”
“I strongly suspect it, but we have no proof yet.”
Ciara’s frown deepened. “Could Mrs Smith be another victim of abuse?”
“I don’t think so, there’s no medical history and the autopsy showed no marks, scars or anything.”
Bronwyn took another sip of her coffee. “What if she found out about the abuse?”
Harrison snorted, “And did what? Confronted the club and they killed her by poisoning her lube?”
A few newspapers rustled around them. Bronwyn shook her head at her boss and grinned.
“To cut a long story short, we need a plan if we want to go there today. If we just ask the vicar if the church hosts a wife-beating club, I don’t think we’ll get a very warm welcome.” Harris put down his cup.
“Do we know why the cases were never brought before a judge?”
“In all three cases, the women withdrew their complaints.” He sighed, “Where there is no plaintiff, there is no judge.”
Evans sighed. “So, we have to consider that if they are abusing their wives, they have ways of pressuring them into obedience.”
“That’s a very big if. So far this is a church club, and it could be pure coincidence that the name has come up a few times.” He looked at Ciara who had fallen silent, seemingly lost in thought. Harrison was not sure if she was just staring blindly into the distance because she was indeed blind, or if she was just so deep in thought. Bronwyn noticed his gaze and looked at Ciara as well.
“Ciara, are you alright?” Bronwyn touched her hand lightly.
Ciara stirred and turned to her. “Sorry, I remember the name. Quintinian, I remember something about Quintinian.”
“Are you having another Miss Winter moment?”
Ciara smiled at the warmth in Bronwyn’s voice. “Probably.”
Harrison took the file from Evans, “We actually googled the name, but all we got was a Roman philosopher.”
Ciara began to knead her lip, her brow furrowed. “Sorry, I can’t get over it. I know I know that name.” She leaned down to find her handbag and took out her earpieces.
“Don’t mind me.” She grinned as she began to swipe her phone.
Evans looked at Harrison and shrugged. “So, our plan for today is to go to St Agatha’s and ask around?”
“Yes, but we have to be careful, the Winchester precinct is still not amused.”
“We can still say it’s a general background check.” She shrugged.
“Yeah, but still. I don’t really see the connection yet. To be honest, I’m pretty convinced the husband did it. Experience tells me he’s after the money. I don’t think any of that Dan Brown shit is going to come into it.”
Evans grinned, her first reaction when Milton had mentioned the church had been similar.
“But why do it now? And how? We didn’t find the nicotine anywhere, no records of him buying it. Maybe there’s someone in the club who had a stash? We need to gather more information about this man.”
“Bronwyn?” Ciara’s voice was thin, and when Bronwyn looked up at her it seemed to have become even paler than her natural porcelain hue.
“Yes?”
“These abuse cases, were they their wives or partners?”
“Mostly, yes. Why?”
Ciara held up a finger, signalling her to wait. “DCI Harrison, have you found any cases linking the group to prostitution?”
“Prostitution?” Evans and Harrison spoke in unison, again a paper rustled not too far away.
“I’ll give you the short version, Quintinian wanted to marry St Agatha before she was canonised, but she refused him, wanting to remain a virgin for God. So, he helped her on her way to sainthood by first forcing her into prostitution and then torturing her by cutting off her breasts and tearing her with iron hooks”.
“Hang on, let me get this straight.” Harrison leaned forward, “This church is named after a saint who had her tits cut off? And this group is named after the guy who did the cutting?”
“In a nutshell.” Ciara nodded.
“Seriously?” Harrison shook his head.
“Sir?” Evans leaned forward, putting down her cup. “I think we should take a closer look at this club. I told you what Reverend Harris said about the church and its clubs. There was something about the way he wrung his hands as he told us. And the way he looked at me. There was something urgent about the whole situation.
“Then I guess we’ll go to St Agatha’s and play it by ear.”
Evans looked over at Ciara and saw the concern on her face. “Ciara bach, I’m sorry you can’t come with us. Shall we meet somewhere later? Or do you want me to drop you off at the station?”
Ciara smiled and held out her hand for Bronwyn to take. “Let’s meet somewhere. I’ll sort something out with Nelson, I might still have some leeway at work. If it gets too late, I’ll take the train.” She squeezed her hand. “Would it be all right if you took my holdall with you, just in case?”
“Of course.”
Harrison stood up and Evans followed. “I’ll get the bill on the way out.”
Ciara waved them off. “My treat. You two run along now and catch the bad guy.”
Bronwyn leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks.”
Ciara turned her head slightly towards her, Bronwyn knew she was now in her field of vision. She smiled as she saw the expression in her eyes change. It took her a second to work up the courage in front of her boss, but then she kissed her lover softly on the mouth.
“I love you,” she whispered. It was the first time she had said it, and she meant it.
“I love you too, take care now.”
Harrison held the door for them as Evans picked up their bags from the corner, they had put them in. “And you just leave her here, like this? Doesn’t she need someone to…” He trailed off, suddenly not sure what he was going to say.
“Why shouldn’t I? I’m pretty sure she found her way around before I came along. She has all the modern technology at her disposal, she can call herself a taxi, and if she really needs help, she can call me.”
“But you can’t come running.”
“No, but I can help sort something out. And I’m more than sure that when I pick her up later, she’ll have found a cosy place and someone nice to talk to.”
“Someone to talk to, that’s what we need right now.” Harrison shrugged. “You don’t really think Mrs Smith’s case is connected to some weird church cult, do you?”
Evans tilted her head slightly as they stepped out onto the pavement. “I don’t know. The way Harris was talking about that club, I think he meant the Quintinian Club. There was something in his eyes, he seemed shocked. But I still don’t see the connection.”
