EPILOGUE
LUNA
THE NURSING HOME hums with gentle activity. The soft murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter, and the distant clatter of dishes create a peaceful rhythm. I’m perched on the edge of a chair in the lounge, my cheeks aching from how much I’ve been smiling.
“You’re a natural with them,” Mary, one of the nurses, says as she hands me a cup of tea.
“They’re the highlight of my week,” I admit, taking the cup. The warmth seeps into my hands, and I glance over at Mrs. Callahan, who’s telling another exaggerated story about her younger days. The staff and a few residents are laughing heartily, and I can’t help but join in.
It feels so good to be here, to feel useful and connected. My heart feels full, and as I say my goodbyes and step into the crisp afternoon air, I realize I’m genuinely happy.
The drive back to my apartment is peaceful. As I park and glance up at my building, a wave of gratitude washes over me. This place—this perfect little sanctuary—is mine. I still can’t believe my luck.
Grabbing the grocery bags from the trunk, I head inside, my steps light, and I ride the elevator up. The familiar ding announces my floor, and as the doors slide open, my breath catches.
Cian is standing there, leaning casually against the wall, his dark hair slightly tousled and his dark brown eyes lighting up when he sees me. My heart skips a beat, then thuds in my chest.
“This is a lovely surprise,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face.
He steps forward and takes the bags from my hands. “This could be a daily occurrence if you want,” he teases, his voice low and warm.
I laugh, but I know he’s not entirely joking. If I so much as hinted at it, Cian would move in without hesitation or insist I live with him. And while the idea tempts me, I need my space. I need to learn to stand on my own two feet.
“Come on,” I say, leading the way to my apartment door.
Inside, I stop short, my eyes landing on the massive bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table. The arrangement is stunning, a riot of colors and fragrances that fill the air. I glance back at Cian, but his expression is anything but pleased. His jaw tightens as he sets the groceries down and strides to the flowers, pulling the small white card from among the blooms.
“Who is it from?” I ask, moving closer. His back is rigid, his fingers gripping the card tightly. I catch a glimpse of the name scrawled at the bottom before he can crumple it.
Liam.
“Who’s Liam?” I ask, my voice quiet but curious.
He hesitates, his stormy gaze flicking to mine. After a moment, he exhales and hands me the card.
Welcome to the building, Luna. – Liam.
“He’s the landlord,” Cian says, his voice clipped.
I inhale deeply, letting the scent of the flowers fill my lungs. “That was so lovely of him,” I say with a small smile. But when I look back at Cian, his tension hasn’t eased. Something about this is bothering him, though I can’t quite put my finger on what.
“Is everything okay?” I ask softly.
He shrugs out of his jacket and crosses the space between us, his hands settling gently on my shoulders. He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Everything is perfect,” he murmurs.
And when I look up into his eyes, the worry in his gaze melts away, replaced by something warm and steady. My chest swells, and I can’t help but smile. How did I get so lucky to have him in my life?
Cian’s gaze softens, but then it shifts into something else—something hungry. He steps closer, his hands sliding to my waist, and before I can say anything, his lips crash into mine. The kiss is demanding, intense, like nothing I’ve ever experienced. My arms wind around his neck instinctively, and I exhale into his mouth as his tongue tangles with mine, sending a spark straight through me.
His hand tightens at my waist, pulling me against him, and suddenly I’m airborne. He lifts me effortlessly, as if I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the hard press of his excitement against my stomach. Heat pools low in my belly, and a new kind of want unfurls inside me—raw and overwhelming.
We’ve never done more than kiss before, but I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Cian right now. And from the way his hands roam my back, and his kisses grow more frantic, I know he feels the same.
I tighten my hold on his shoulders, gasping as he breaks the kiss and peppers soft ones along my jaw and down my neck. Each touch of his lips sends shivers down my spine. He turns and strides toward the bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot.
The bed feels soft beneath me as he lowers me onto it, his body hovering over mine. He pauses, his dark brown eyes sweeping over me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. The image of him flashes in my mind—the first day I saw him at work, stepping out of the shower, unabashedly naked. He was…huge. The memory sends a flush to my cheeks, and I bite my lip as I meet his gaze.
Cian’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough with need.
My heart pounds, and I reach up, brushing my fingers along his jaw. “So are you,” I whisper back, and then he’s kissing me again.
His kisses grow even more frantic, his lips moving as if he’s trying to devour me. My fingers fumble at the buttons of his shirt, trembling with anticipation and the need to feel his skin against mine. “Take off your clothes,” I whisper into his mouth, my voice a mix of desperation and excitement.
He pulls back instantly, his breathing ragged, and then he’s off me, peeling off his clothes with a speed that leaves me breathless. I barely have time to tug my trousers down before he’s standing naked in front of me. My breath catches at the sight of him, his body taut and powerful, every line of him exuding raw masculinity.
He steps between my legs, his presence overwhelming, and leans down to slowly unbutton my uniform top. His fingers move with an agonizing slowness, each button undone with deliberate care. The anticipation is almost painful, and a heat pools between my legs, leaving me aching for his touch.
As he works, his dark eyes stay locked on mine, a silent promise passing between us. I’ve never felt so exposed, so wanted, and as he slides the fabric from my shoulders, I close my eyes and allow my body to soak up every single touch.
Cian’s hands trail down, his touch igniting every nerve as he moves across my breasts, which seem to swell under his fingers. His hands glide over my stomach, slow and deliberate, before reaching my thighs. He pushes them apart, his movements commanding, giving himself access to me.
My breath hitches, my eyes shooting open as he positions himself. I feel the head of him press against my entrance, the sensation sending a shiver up my spine. He pushes in slowly, the stretch stealing my breath as he begins to fill me. My body reacts, expanding to accommodate him, the pressure unlike anything I’ve felt before.
He pulls back, sliding almost out, only to push in again, each movement deliberate. I can tell he’s holding back, his control clear on his face as he leans over me, his hands planted firmly on either side of my head. His gaze meets mine, and the intensity in his eyes sends a wave of heat crashing over me.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I press my heels into him, urging him closer, deeper. My fingers dig into his shoulders, anchoring myself to him as my body adjusts to his size, the pleasure building with every movement. Cian groans, the sound low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through me, my heart pounding in time with each thrust.
I know he’s filled me completely; the sensation is overwhelming. It’s all-consuming, like fire dancing across my skin—dangerous, yet it doesn’t burn. Cian moves faster, harder, and I cry out with each thrust, my voice rising uncontrollably.
A large hand grips my chin, tilting my face up, and I meet his dark, intense gaze. His eyes burn with a feral hunger as he fucks me hard, each powerful stroke pushing me to my limits. The intensity sends my vocal cords straining to a pitch I didn’t know I was capable of.
The build in my stomach grows, a wave rolling across my skin, tightening every muscle in its path. My fingers grip his forearms, desperate for an anchor as he drives into me with an unrelenting force I’ve never experienced. My entire body is coiled, trembling on the edge, until the wave crests.
I scream as my orgasm tears through me, a hurricane of sensation that leaves me shaking, utterly consumed. Cian’s movements don’t falter, and the aftershocks ripple through me, leaving me breathless and completely undone in his arms. He continues his relentless pounding, his rhythm never faltering until he cries out, his own release tearing through him. His body shudders as he lowers himself onto me, his weight grounding me as our mingled breaths fill the quiet room. The intensity ebbs, leaving only the sound of our shared exhaustion and the steady thrum of our heartbeats.
Lying in Cian’s arms, I feel a warmth I’ve never known. His fingers trail absentmindedly along my back, tracing patterns that send shivers down my spine. I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, and his soft smile steals what little breath I have left.
“I could get used to this,” I say, my voice quiet but full of emotion.
His lips twitch into a teasing grin. “I’m here at your beck and call,” he replies, but there’s a note of seriousness in his tone that makes my chest tighten.
I rest my hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm. “Good,” I whisper. “Because I don’t want this to end.”
He cups my face, his thumb brushing gently across my cheek. “It doesn’t have to,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Not if we don’t want it to.”
A contented sigh escapes me as I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the safety of his arms. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. And as the world fades around us, I know that this—Cian, this moment, this love—is my happily ever after.
THE END