Chapter 32
CATRIONA
“Are you going to tell me what you think or will you keep me in suspense?” he asks, his posture deceptively casual. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he didn’t care about my answer. “If you don’t like it, we can find somewhere else. There are other—”
“I love it,” I say as I cross the creaking floor to his side, careful not to trip on the half-completed step up to the office. “It’s perfect. But you didn’t have to do this. I would have gotten over my issues with the house. It already doesn’t bother me as much.”
I’m not trying to bullshit him. Each day since we’ve been back from Ireland has been a little easier now that I know the truth about what happened to my mother.
Now that I have justice for her. Of course, considering the circumstances, it wasn’t like I could go to the police.
That would have put Aiden in an uncomfortable position.
I suppose what I really needed more than justice was the truth.
Now that I have it, it feels like the puzzle inside of my chest has been solved.
There isn’t an aching emptiness where the pieces should be, waiting to be filled.
Aiden pulls me to him when I get within reaching distance.
His expression is solemn as he takes in the tears I’m just now realizing are streaking down my cheeks.
I expect him to get awkward in the face of my uncharacteristic display, but he doesn’t.
In fact, he shifts closer to me, hands drifting up my throat to cup my jaw.
He tilts my face up, and uneasiness crawls through me at being so exposed to him.
More so than I’ve ever been when he had me stripped completely to the skin.
“It’s okay to let it go. You’ve done what you set out to do. I want to make this home with you. For our future. I want to build a life with you, Catriona.”
He lowers his head until his lips press to my skin, following the trail of tears.
He erases each one until my hands are gripping his wrists to keep from trembling.
When he’s done, my breath shudders over his mouth as it lowers to mine.
A needy sound escapes from my throat, and it’s all the invitation he needs to press me against the wall of shelves behind me.
If they bite into my back, I don’t notice.
God, I’ve missed him. I’ve needed this. So much.
My arms go around his waist, needing something to hold on to as I’m rocked off center. His tongue invades and conquers, and I relent, letting him plunder until I’m a needy mess under him.
When I try to press closer, drown out my thoughts in the taste and impossible hardness of him against me, he pulls away, and I find myself leaning toward him, hazy and confused.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
It takes me a minute to remember what he asked. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” My words are watery. I push to my toes and sob against his mouth. “Yes.”
He kisses me until I’m trembling, then pulls away.
His silver eyes ignite, and his body shudders with the effort of his eagerness and restraint.
“Take off your clothes,” he says, releasing my hands.
Taking two steps back so he can watch me, he rests a shoulder on the wall to my left, arms crossed over his chest, legs at the ankles.
I don’t think about it as I draw the baby pink dress up my thighs to tease the sight of my panties.
Thank God it’s a rare warm day. The sun coming through the windows keeps the interior at the perfect temperature.
I can practically feel Aiden begging me to go faster.
Just for that, I change direction and undo the buttons at my chest, letting the dress gape away nearly to my navel to expose the pale blush lingerie I have on underneath.
Aiden straightens, pushing away from the wall, but doesn’t come closer yet. His gaze is fixated to the sliver of skin exposed down my ribs.
Moving from the buttons to my hair, I unwind it from the claw clip at the top of my head and shake the length out over my shoulders.
In the past year, I haven’t had much time to focus on personal care, so it’s grown out nearly down to my waist. His eyes caress my exposed skin, trailing from my face to my dress to where it splits over my breasts.
“The longer you make me wait, the longer I’m going to tease you,” Aiden says in a low rumble.
Sending him a wicked grin, I say, “Maybe that’s my plan.”
“My wife’s a masochist,” he murmurs.
I pull the dress over my head and let it fall to the floor by my feet—not because he tells me to, but because I’m eager to see what he has planned for me. He contemplates my half-naked body like it’s his new favorite meal.
“This new?” he asks with faux innocence.
“You know damn well it’s new, Aiden O’Connor. You had a truck full of lingerie delivered to the house last week. Do you like it?”
“I love it, bhean chéile. Now take it off, or I’m going to rip it off, and I’d hate to do that because I know how much you hate it when I ruin them.”
Because he’s right, I unhook the shelf bra and let it fall on top of my dress.
I shimmy out of my panties next and kick them toward him.
He catches them and shoves them in his pocket before he prowls to me.
Delicious, dark fear rolls through me, causing my heart to kick up and my breath to come faster.
He doesn’t say a word as he studies me, his gaze hard and hot. Pinned in place, I can only submit to his observation, my nipples pinching under his perusal.
Does it make me a terrible person that I enjoy his attention after all that he’s done? Probably.
Does it make me enjoy it any less? Absolutely the fuck not.
His lips draw into a smirk, and heat pools low and thick in my belly. He takes my wrists one at a time and presses them into the shelves behind me. “Hold on to these and don’t let go. Can you do that?”
What I want to say is, Please, go faster, you’re killing me, but what I force out of my mouth is, “Yes.” There is a delicious ache in my shoulders, but no pain.
I am blissfully at his mercy. Thoughts muddled.
Worries eased. His touch is magic, and all my urgent concerns melt away.
I whimper at the rush, already putty in his capable hands.
“Good. You’ll tell me if it becomes so uncomfortable you stop enjoying it.” It’s not a question.
“I will. I promise.”
At my words, Aiden inches closer. “Have I told you how beautiful you are, little wife?” One hand traces the curve of my body from my hip to my throat.
How can one touch steal the very voice from my throat?
“Hmm? Have I told you? Or are you not answering because you want my hands on you? Want me to make you feel good so you don’t have to think about anything else? ”
A desperate whimper is his answer, making him smile in understanding.
“Poor, sweet baby. I’ll take care of you.
Don’t worry.” I expect him to use his hand, to get a weapon of some kind to abuse my body into submission.
But what he does instead rocks me more than anything else ever could. He gets on his knees.
“Aiden, I—” He has to know how much this kills me. How heady it is to see him, a powerful, dangerous man, kneeling in front of me.
“I’m going to ask again. Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“I don’t… No, I don’t think so.”
He plants a kiss above my clit. A gentle, teasing thing. So opposite to everything I’ve ever been told about the ruthless man in front of me that it knocks away the first lines of my defense, and I begin to tremble in his arms.
Aiden grins up at me as though he can read the panic flaring in my mind, and, fuck him, he probably can.
“You’re beautiful, Catriona. Every part of you. Want to know why I get on my knees for you the way I have no other person? Why you could run to the ends of the earth, and I’d follow you there?”
His arms wrap around my legs, and his tongue delves into the cleft between.
The frustration at not being able to move, at only being able to accept what he gives me, has me throwing my head back and panting at the ceiling.
I forget his question as he devours my pussy for several bone-melting minutes.
He stops to kiss my thigh. “Because I’m yours.
I’ve been yours since the first moment I saw you.
I’ve been chasing you since that morning when I woke up and found my bed empty of you.
You’re a beautiful, vicious thing, and as much as I’ve fought it, it turns out my wanting you is the one thing in this world I can’t seem to kill. So I’ve given up.”
“Aiden,” I gasp on a ragged breath. I’m hot all over.
The bundle of nerves between my legs is screaming for his attention, and my heart pounds in my chest like it wants to break out from the cage of my ribs.
I swallow hard and try to marshal my thoughts back into order, but I can’t help looking down at him, where he’s still kneeling for me, eyes on my face.
“I’m yours, Catriona. On my knees for you. I’d do anything for you, love. You understand?”
“I understand,” I breathe even though it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to hear from anyone. Pressure builds in my chest, and I realize how terrible an idea it was to let a man like him inside my heart. Not because I think he might hurt me; he wouldn’t need to overpower me to do that.
No, because he sees me in a way no one else ever has, and now there’s no more running from him. No more hiding.
His hands cup my ass cheeks and lift me to his mouth, where he licks at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
The groan rumbling from him is buried in my pussy, against my sensitive clit, and I squeal at the rush of sensation.
He’s mumbling against me, one word, over and over, but I can barely hear him over the thundering in my ears and my own bellowing lungs.
It feels like I’ve run a mile, but I’ve barely moved a muscle.
The word he’s chanting finally registers. Yours.
Yours.
Yours.
Yours.