Page 16

I yawned and glanced up at the clock, seeing it was past ten.

He’d been gone longer than usual this time, and I was tired.

I got ready for bed, choosing one of Niall’s shirts to wear since it smelled like him and made me feel better.

I slid under the soft sheets, opening my book, deciding I would read for a bit.

Except, I woke up two hours later, still alone, my book beside me and the lamp on.

Worried, I slid from bed, hurrying to the living room to get my phone. I stopped in the low light, shocked to see Niall there, sitting in the chair, a glass of whiskey in his hands. He was hunched forward, his head bowed, looking as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders.

I rushed to him, dropping to my knees in front of him. “Niall, are you all right?” I whispered, my throat thick. “I waited and waited, but I fell asleep. What’s wrong?”

He looked up, studying me. He reached out, running a finger down my cheek. “I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“As long as you’re okay, it’s fine.” I cupped his cheek, and he leaned into my touch with a long sigh.

“ Are you okay?”

He pressed his glass to my lips, and I took a small sip. I tried not to grimace as the dark whiskey slid down my throat. I wasn’t much of a drinker, and he liked it neat. I found it strong, although I enjoyed its flavor when he pressed his tongue to mine.

He smiled and tossed back the rest of the whiskey, setting down his glass. He bent, wrapping his hands around my waist and lifting me to his lap. I straddled him, noting he seemed calm but upset. Or anxious? I wasn’t sure. I cradled his face between my palms. “What is it, Niall?”

“I’ve kept you waiting in a different way. I’ve been holding back.”

My heart rate picked up, my own nerves kicking in. “Holding back on what?”

“You.” He paused, licking his lips. “Us.”

“What about us?”

“I had a long talk with Finn tonight. He laid it all on the table. How he saw the future. His plans. What he wanted from me.” He slid his hands along my thighs, reaching behind and gripping my ass. “He asked me what I wanted.”

“And?”

“I want you, mo mhuirnín. My darling.” He swallowed. “I love you.”

“ Niall ,” I whispered.

“Finn wants to walk away at some point. Maybe next year, maybe five years. But he wants to leave this behind. Enjoy life. Enjoy his family.” His grip tightened. “I want that too.”

“With me?”

“Yes. I want everything with you, Anna. Finn told me to look deep inside at what I wanted, and I could see it all. A house. Kids. Visits with Mum. Her bouncing the wee ones on her knee. Late nights. Vacations. Fights. Making up. I saw it all like pictures. And every single image contained you.”

Tears gathered in my eyes.

“The moment I held you, something shifted inside me. It was as if part of you slid inside my heart and stayed there. I’ve been fighting it. So fucking hard.” He picked up my hand and kissed it. “I’m tired of fucking fighting it.”

“Why did you fight?”

“Because I wasn’t sure I could love anyone—not that way.

There was always a disconnect. Something.

And I picked the wrong women—the ones who said the right thing, acted the right way.

And somehow, I always fucked it up.” He gathered my hands in his.

“But you are the right thing. The way you listen. Need me. Make me laugh. I feel complete with you, Anna.” His gaze was so intense I couldn’t look away.

“I know I won’t fuck it up, because this time, it’s real.

You’re real.” He swallowed. “And you won’t let me. ”

“No,” I agreed softly.

“I hate the way we had to meet, but I am so grateful it was me who was there. That from that hell, I found you. I can’t stand the thought of not being with you. I want the life Finn does. And now, I can offer it to you. A life together.” He swallowed. “If you want that.”

“Niall,” I replied, my voice trembling. “When you picked me up, everything went away. The pain, the terror. In your arms, I was safe. And the way you looked after me made me feel cared for. Loved.” I slid one hand up his face, tracing his mouth. “You were so patient. So careful, so…”

“Inept?” he asked, pressing a kiss to my fingertip with a small smile.

“Wonderful. No one had ever cared for me the way you did. The way you do. I want to care the same way for you. I know you think it’s hero worship, but it’s not. I do think you’re a hero. My hero. But I love the man he is even more.”

He crashed his mouth to mine, kissing me. He tasted of whiskey and Niall. He felt like home as he wrapped his arms around me. He stood, carrying me to the bedroom, laying me down and following me to the mattress.

“I never want to come to bed without you beside me,” he uttered. “Ever.”

“Okay,” I agreed easily. I slept well when he was with me. Nothing would harm me with him wrapped around me.

He tore off his clothes, then made short work of the shirt I was wearing by tearing it up the middle, the buttons scattering, hitting the floor and walls with small pings.

“I think that was an expensive shirt,” I said, trying to sound serious. I loved the way he was looking at me. As if he was two seconds away from pouncing and ravishing me.

I was okay with that.

“I’ll buy more. I’ll buy everything you want.”

“I just want you.”

He lunged, covering me, his mouth hot and hungry. His hands were restless, traveling over my body, touching, caressing, teasing. He pushed my legs apart, settling between them as if he was meant to be there.

“We fit,” he groaned. “We fit so well.”

He was right. There was no height difference, no problem with my size. It was him and me. Our skin, our mouths, our bodies fusing together. I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling him hard and scorching between my legs. Nudging my entrance. Then he rolled so I was on top, staring down at him.

“Ride me, Polly. I want to watch you take me.”

I rolled my hips, and he groaned. He helped me, lifting me so I was over him. “Do it,” he growled. “Take me.”

I used his taut stomach as an anchor, bracing my hands on his solid torso as I lowered myself on his shaft.

I trembled at the sensation of being full.

Too full. He slid his fingers between us, teasing my clit.

I whimpered at the pleasure and felt the rush of moisture that eased the final inches.

When he was fully inside me, I hung my head, adjusting.

His fingers gripped my hips, the shaking of his body telling me he was holding back.

Then I began to move. The sensations were incredible.

He hit some spot inside with each roll. Bumped my clit.

I flung my head back, crying his name, moving, gasping, pleading.

He arched his back, moving with me, the exquisite pleasure sharp but welcome. He grunted and panted, praising me.

“Look at you, mo mhuirnín. So beautiful.”

He cupped my face, his thumbs stroking my skin in small circles. “My darling, mine.”

He ran a hand down my sternum. “Feck, you are so hot. You feel so good.”

“Strangle my cock. Take it all!” he shouted.

Every word, every movement, brought another wave of pleasure.

Until it became too much. I cried out again, gripping my hair and whimpering his name as color burst behind my eyes and I spasmed, tightening around his cock and milking it.

He sat up, encasing me in his arms as he climaxed, kissing me, our sweat-soaked skin sliding together, our tongues mating and entwining.

Then I collapsed against his chest. He relaxed back onto the pillows, holding me, his cock still inside as he stroked his fingers up and down my spine. I shut my eyes, the aftershocks rolling through my body, and he groaned.

“Every time you do that, it feels like you’re hugging my cock.”

“Well, I’m being friendly.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to my head, holding me close.

“You promise me always, Anna?”

It was a promise I had no trouble making.

“Always.”