I lay there boneless as he moved to his feet, only my eyes following the movement. He stripped his boxers off quickly, then leaned over me to smile at my dazed expression. He grabbed me beneath the arms and pulled me up the bed as I did nothing to help, and I smiled back as he climbed up between my legs.
“Yer not even goin’ to look?” he teased, taking a hold of each knee so he could spread me wide.
“I think it’s better if I don’t see it beforehand. That way we won’t be dealing with my virginal shock and awe and questions of ‘how on earth will you fit?’ ”
“Ye’ve been readin’ too many romance novels.”
“I needed some tips.”
“Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
“Dat’s why yer hands are shakin’?”
He grabbed one of the shaking hands in question, and raised it to his lips, kissing it gently before bringing it down between us.
“Feel how wet ye are,” he said, running both of our fingers over my sensitive flesh. “Lovely.”
“Lovely.”
“Remember what I told ye? Ye’ll take me easily wit’ dis.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Okay,” he answered with a tender smile, letting go of my hand. Then he moved his body on top of mine more fully, bracing his forearm at my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around his back. His hand stayed between us, directing his cock to the correct angle, and then suddenly he was there.
“Still not nervous?”
“No,” I whispered hoarsely, my pulse thrumming.
“Keep yer eyes on mine, wife.”
He rocked his hips, gently at first, which got us nowhere, and then harder. I could feel him stretching me slowly, and it didn’t hurt really, but it didn’t feel good, either.
“Are you in?” I asked after a couple minutes of watching his jaw clench and sweat bead on his upper lip.
“Halfway.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Nervous yet?”
“No,” I replied stubbornly, taking a shaky breath.
“Good.” He arched his hips harder and suddenly there was a stinging sensation, and I was the one clenching my jaw.
“All done, me love,” he whispered gently, leaning down to kiss me. I could taste my arousal on his mouth, but when I tried to turn my face away he gripped my jaw on each side, holding me in place. “Don’t turn away,” he said against my mouth. “Taste it. It’s good.”
I groaned as his tongue thrust in my mouth with the rhythm of his hips. I wasn’t getting anything out of it, not really. I was sore and my thighs were beginning to hurt a little where his hipbones pressed against me… but he was inside me. It wasn’t anything like I’d imagined, full of starbursts and fireworks and an orgasm that made my eyes roll back in my head. But somehow it was better, because this person—this gorgeous man who loved me—was my husband. And he was focused solely on me, kissing me, and rubbing my cheeks gently with his thumbs, and sliding in and out of me in a steady rhythm.
It wasn’t long before he pulled his mouth away and rested his forehead against mine as he shuddered, jerking his hips uncontrollably. “I love ye, wife.”
“Love you too, husband.”
Chapter 23
Amy
We didn’t leave for the hotel room Patrick had reserved until the next morning. Our wedding day had been so long and emotional, both of us had fallen asleep not long after we’d cleaned up. We only went a few towns over—there was no money for a fancy vacation—but I didn’t care. I had three whole days of nothing but Patrick. I was in heaven.
By the time we got back, I actually felt married. It was just long enough that the exciting newness of it all had turned into a sort of newlywed bliss—still exciting, but more comfortable. More solid.
The Patrick I’d grown to love was back—attentive and sarcastic in equal measure and more physical than he’d ever been before. He was constantly touching me, a hand on my knee, on the small of my back, or wrapped around my shoulders. He kissed me constantly, when he was excited or happy or thoughtful. It didn’t matter what we were doing, he was marking me constantly with his possession, figuratively—and literally—in the form of matching anchors we’d had tattooed where wedding rings would have been placed if that was possible. It was wonderful, and seeing the permanent mark on my hand made me giddy with love.
By the time we got back to Peg’s I was more sore than I’d ever been in my entire life. Even sitting in the car for an hour had hurt like hell.
“Ye look like an old woman,” Patrick teased as I climbed slowly out of the car.
“If you hadn’t fucked me eighteen million times in four days, maybe I’d be a bit more spry.”
“But t’ink of all de fun we would have missed,” he said, pushing me gently against the car so he could steal a long, wet kiss. “Now it’s back to reality.”
“No,” I moaned. “Let’s go back. We’ll live like gypsies.”
“Yer home!” Peg called from the front door. “Did ye have a good time?”
We turned to face her, and she beamed back, clearly excited to see us.
“No, your son sucks in bed,” I whispered to Patrick, which earned me a hard pinch on my ass. He pulled out of reach as I yelped and then grabbed our bags out of the back seat.
I walked slowly toward Peg and as I reached her, she snickered.
“Apparently, a little too much fun.”
“Hey! A little sympathy would be nice.” I scowled at her, but it didn’t last long. She looked so happy, I couldn’t stop from smiling back at her.
“Let’s get ye into the bath with some salts,” she said as she ushered me inside. “I know just how yer feelin’. Had a wedding night of my own once.”
She settled me into the bath as we listened to Patrick putting my things away. The warm water felt fantastic against my raw skin and sore muscles. Why hadn’t I realized that I was so sore? Probably because while we were away, Patrick had kept me in a perpetual state of arousal and willing to do anything to sate it.
We’d been both making up for lost time and preparing for time apart. Our few days had passed too quickly, and now I had less than twenty-four hours before Patrick had to leave again to get back to school. It felt like the end of the world, and I sniffled as I leaned farther into the tub water.
I hated the thought of being away from him for even a second.
“Hey, what’s all dat about?” the man of my thoughts asked as he slipped into the room.
“You can’t be in here!”
“What de hell are ye talkin’ about?”
“Your mom’s in the next room!”
“And we’re married,” he answered, raising his eyebrow.
“But—”
“Are ye feelin’ any better?” he asked as he knelt by the tub, running the tips of his fingers through the water. His eyes roamed over my naked body as if cataloguing the love bites and fingertip bruises that covered me. Suddenly, he burst out laughing while I stared at him in horror.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped, trying and failing to curb the laughter. “But yer—yer so concerned wit’ me comin’ in while yer bathin’!” He stopped to laugh loudly again, bending at the waist as he did so. “But didn’t Mum just help ye in here? She’s seen what we’ve been up to!”
“You’re such an ass!” I cupped my hand in the water and shoved it toward him, causing a huge wave to fly over the edge of the bathtub and completely soak his face and chest.
He gaped at me, his wide eyes and mouth causing me to burst out in laughter of my own. Then he was up, kicking off his shoes and pulling his pants down his legs.
“No. No, Patrick! You can’t—”
He leaned back and opened the door a fraction.
“Mum, I’m goin’ to get in wit’ Amy,” he called, making my face flame in mortification. “We’ll be out in a while!”
“Okay, dear!” Peg called back.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” I hissed through my teet
h, climbing to my feet.
“Sit back down.”
“No, I’m getting out.”
“Sit. Down.” His voice had gone deep and stern, and I looked up in surprise to see him pulling off his t-shirt. I debated ignoring him, but there was no amusement left on his face. He was completely serious… and angry?
I timidly sat back down in the water and pulled my knees to my chest as I watched him finish disrobing.
“Pull out de stopper for a moment,” he directed, stepping into the tub. He was standing right in front of me, and I reached behind me blindly to pull the plug while his erection seemed to bob in my face.
My mouth began to water.
“Dat’s enough,” he said after a minute, pulling me out of my stupor.
I stopped the draining water again as he reached down to tug on his erection, and my sore muscles clenched.
“I t’ink I’ve found one part of ye dat isn’t sore,” he said quietly, reaching out to rub my cheek and slide his thumb into my mouth. “Up on yer knees, wife.”
I scrambled up, the water rippling around me, and as soon as my hands were planted on his thighs, his were in my hair guiding me toward him. We’d done it before, a few times, but never in that position.
I opened wide and the pool of saliva in my mouth made his entry easy. As I wrapped my lips around him, being careful not to get him with my teeth, he shuddered.
“Dat feels wonderful,” he rasped, and I jolted, looking up to urge him to silence with my eyes. Peg could not know what we were doing.
“Open wider,” he urged gently, his brow furrowed. “Take me deeper in yer mout’.”
My eyes bugged at his obvious words, and I felt heat flush up my neck. He was doing it on purpose. If I opened any wider I’d have to unhinge my frigging jaw.
He might have been embarrassing me, he was still infinitely gentle as he guided my movements, and his mumbled words of praise had me heating and growing even slicker in the water. He was so gentle and obviously thankful that I was giving him a blowjob that I couldn’t even be mad at him.
“Enough.” His words were garbled as he pulled away. Suddenly, I realized how cool the water had gotten and how much of my skin was out in the cold air. I shivered as he carefully sat down facing me, his knees jutting above the edges of the tub.
“Not much room in here,” he said with a smile, pulling me to his chest so he could reach around me to turn on the taps. “It’s hot, don’t lean back.”
I nodded as he pulled me into his lap, my knees under his armpits and our bodies completely aligned from hips to chest.
“I’ll not hide or sneak around. I pay me mum plenty to cover de rent on dis place, it’s just as much ours as it is hers. ” He told me seriously, one hand at the back of my neck and the other smoothing its way down to tease at my peaked nipple. “Yer me wife. We make love. Dat’s de end of it.”
He was hard beneath me, and with a twist of his hips he was sliding slowly inside, watching my face closely for any sign of discontent. I was still sore, but the throbbing ache of arousal overwhelmed any discomfort I may have felt. He felt so good when we were wrapped around each other that way.
“Alright?” he whispered.
I loved him so much in that moment.
“Lovely,” I whispered back with a sly smile.
He met my smile with one of his own and he reached behind me to turn off the water. The motion pressed him deeper and I stuffed my head into his neck to keep from moaning out loud.
I was braced against my knees and bent completely in half in that small bathtub, and there was virtually no room to move, but we made it work. We rocked gently, kissing faces and necks and shoulders and arms until it was over and I was completely exhausted.
***
We spent the rest of the day together with Peg, watching old movies and cuddling. It was exactly what I needed after the long week we’d had. It had gone by too fast, though, and a part of me wished we could do it all over again. I dreaded Patrick leaving in the morning.
Peg was considerate of us, and spent a lot of time puttering around the kitchen and her small garden to give us a little time to ourselves, but I knew that she was dreading Patrick’s departure almost as much as I was. There was something happening behind the scenes, something they weren’t telling me, and it was making her more anxious than normal.
We slept naked and curled around each other that night, but my poor body was at its limit, so we didn’t do anything else. It was nice to just feel our skin touching in various places as we lay in the small bed. Patrick made comments about finding a bigger mattress, but I hoped he wouldn’t. I loved that we had so little room—it meant that we were always touching, no matter how we moved around in our sleep.
When he left the next day, I put on a brave face and refused to cry. It’s temporary, I told myself. He’s making a better life for us. He’s working hard toward our future.
None of my affirmations gave me any sort of peace.
I missed him the minute he left the house.
Chapter 24
Patrick
Life fell back into a familiar rhythm, but everything felt off kilter.
I wanted to be home.
I ached constantly for Amy, which made me feel like the biggest fool who’d ever lived. I knew she was back home waiting on me, but our marriage seemed to have caused a new and stronger sort of possessiveness to take hold. I was jealous of anyone who came in contact with her when I couldn’t. I found myself calling home more often than I could afford just to hear about her day and to listen for any mention of other men. I knew it was completely asinine for me to do so, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
I was driving myself crazy. That must have been why I hadn’t seen the writing on the wall. I’d been so caught up in my wife that I’d let my guard down. Nothing had changed just because I’d gotten married, even though it felt that way for me.
“Patrick Gallagher,” a man called out behind me as I started to open the door to the building I lived in. His voice sounded friendly enough, but the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I braced as I slowly let the door fall shut and turned to face him.
I recognized Malcolm first. He was standing just slightly behind the man who’d called my name, and as I took in the four men before me, my stomach clenched in fear. They must have found out about the girl.
“Found yer Da,” Malcolm told me with a nod. My stomach sunk. Not the girl.
“An interestin’ man, yer fadder,” the short man mused, looking me over. “Loyal as a bloodhound and about as smart as one. Odd dat his son spends his days inside a classroom.”
My fists clenched at my sides, but I knew there was no way I could hit him the way I wanted to. I was outnumbered and unarmed. It would be suicide.
“What can I help ye wit’?” I asked calmly.
“We have some t’ings we’d like to discuss wit’ ye.”
“I’m not interested.” I glanced at Malcolm, but his stoic expression didn’t move.
“Ye haven’t heard what I’d like to discuss.”
“I know exactly what ye’d like to discuss. I’m not interested.”
“Yer fadder will be…disappointed.” The inflection in his words made my back break out in a cool sweat.
“Where is he?” I asked, even though I knew that was exactly what he wanted.
“He’d like to see ye,” the man replied jovially.
He hadn’t answered my question.
They began to move away, as if it was a foregone conclusion that I’d follow them. They’d cast the bait, and I bit. When I reached the sidewalk, Malcolm fell into step beside me.
“I heard ye’ve married.”
“Yes.” I absolutely was not going to talk about Amy with these men.
“Kevie says she’s beautiful.”
I didn’t reply.
“I’ll have to introduce meself next time I’m home,” he prodded.
“Stay away from me wife,” I replied sharply.
&
nbsp; “No time for an old friend, den?”
“We were never friends.”
We climbed into a small truck, Malcolm staying by my side in the back, and I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they killed me. Would Mum know to take Amy and leave? Malcolm’s interest in my wife made me so livid I envisioned killing every one of them before we reached our destination.
The man driving would be easy to take out, just a quick snap of the neck and he’d be gone. Malcolm’s pistol was in his jacket on the side closest to me, and I wondered if I’d have enough time to pull it and kill him and the short man before they retaliated. I clenched the hand resting on my thigh twice, trying to calm my breathing. It wouldn’t work. If I killed the driver, we’d crash. And even if the plan worked, more would come. They were like rats in a sewer, kill a few and the rest followed in a huge wave until you were overwhelmed.
I sat silent until we reached an older building across town. From the outside it looked like a bakery, but I knew we weren’t there for pastries.
Inside the store, the men didn’t stop to speak to the man behind the counter. With a quick nod in passing, we strode straight by him into the back, where a stairwell led us into a finished basement with a steel door.
My Da was sitting at a table with a couple other men, and he stood in surprise the minute I cleared the door.
“Patrick?”
“I told ye I’d bring him,” the short man said. His tone was cheerful, but it was an eerie sort of glee.
“What’s dis about Da?”
He shook his head slightly at me.
“Well, now. I only believed dat two men are better den one. And who better to work wit’ ye den yer son?”
“He’s made his own choices, Michael.”
“He’s made no choice,” the short man replied. “Yer eider wit’ us or against us.”