Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
My muscles fluttered around him. My heart began to soar. I started shaking, holding him close, crying out his name. He buried his head into my neck, groaning my name. “Anna, mo mhuirnín. Feck. Yes. Yes. Yes.”
I felt the heat of his release fill me. My orgasm was so powerful I couldn’t speak. A long rush of air left my lungs as he collapsed on me, his weight pressing me down and only emphasizing the spasms my body was experiencing.
Until I was done. Sated. Adrift in a quiet fog of pleasure.
Niall withdrew, and I winced, already missing the feeling of him. He climbed from the bed, lifting me, and carried me to the shower. We stood under the spray, not speaking. The warm water felt good on my sore muscles. Strangely, I felt no embarrassment as he cleaned me, then himself, tossing the cloth to the corner, before wrapping me back in his arms and kissing me.
After, he dried me and carried me back to the bed, before sliding in himself and holding me tight.
I drifted, safe in his embrace, trying to gather the words I needed to say in my foggy mind. I sighed, tracing my finger down his forearm. “That didn’t feel like fucking.”
He tucked me closer. “It wasn’t.”
“Una was right. Your accent gets even heavier when you’re passionate.”
He chuckled. “Good to know.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He pressed a kiss to my head. “No. Thank you, mo mhuirnín.”
I was on the border of sleep when he spoke again.
“That was the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
NIALL
Iwatched her sleep, for the first time peacefully. She was tucked close, her head nestled into my shoulder, her hand resting on my heart that was beating in a slow, steady rhythm.
I hadn’t meant to take her to bed. To make her mine.
But I had—in every way.
I had never experienced anything as profound. Her trust. Her response. The way she made me feel. Not only physically. Emotionally, she stirred something in me I couldn’t name.
I felt protective, almost feral, when it came to her. I wanted to make sure she was safe. Happy. I wanted her smiles and laughter. I wanted to be the one who made her smile and laugh. Every time she was out of my sight, I felt anxious.
I told myself it was because of the dire circumstances under which we met that made me feel so protective of her. Once she found her feet and life returned to normal, the need to watch over her would fade. She would find her life, and I would go back to mine.
Finn’s right hand. Overseeing the hotel and casino. Handling problems and issues in his territory. That was my world, and I had no room for anything else.
Anna stirred, and I looked down at her, pushing away the hair that fell over her face. She was still asleep, her breathing deep and even. Between the news of Juan’s death and our lovemaking, she was content and quiet in my arms.
Lovemaking. That was a new term for me. I hadn’t had many relationships, and those I had been part of ended in disappointment, regret, and deception—and me questioning my choices. I’d stopped trying, my heart firmly removed, no one ever managing to reach over the walls I erected once I made my decision. After those failed attempts, I kept my relations strictly that.
Relations.
Dinner and a night or two. The occasional weekend. A gift—although, those were rare. A few rounds in bed and then I moved on. I was always honest, always open with the women I picked. They were clear on the rules, and I never strayed from them. If I felt they were wanting more, I walked away faster than usual.
And I never did repeats.
Anna muttered in her sleep, and I shifted, moving away. She frowned, nestling right back where she had been, her head in the crook of my neck—her personal favorite spot. I ran a finger down her cheek, unable to stop my smile as her lips pursed, and she nuzzled my skin, then stilled again.
I knew I should get up. Carry her to the room next door and tuck her in. Begin the distancing process. Draw the lines in the sand. Remind her she said herself she wasn’t asking for a future. Only now.
Except with what we had shared not long ago, it felt too cold an action—even for me.
I’d let her sleep here tonight and tomorrow make it clear we needed to set boundaries.
Shutting my eyes, I tried to ignore the laughter in my head, the voice that whispered I had blown the chance of any boundaries by taking her. Claiming her as mine.
That voice could just feck off.
In the morning, I was awake and out of bed before Anna stirred. I lingered for a few moments, loath to leave her, but I made myself move away from her. I showered and ordered some breakfast, sitting at the table and sipping coffee so strong, it was midnight in color. The flavor was rich and robust. Exactly what I needed to brace myself for the day. For the conversation I needed to have with Anna.