Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dáithí
Eoin’s blatant joy prompts pangs of guilt, but I shove them aside. He’s forgiven me, and even if I never quite manage to forgive myself for what I’ve done to him, I won’t let him know. It would just make him feel bad.
We stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, kissing and just enjoying being together.
It feels different now, without the emotional distance I put between us.
I’d hoped the barrier would keep me from being hurt when things ended, but it never worked that way.
I still fell hard for Eoin—the only thing it did was prevent us from being completely happy. That’s done now.
But if kissing Eoin feels more intense and meaningful now that I’m not trying to protect myself, what’s sex going to be like?
No time like the present to find out.
I break away from his mouth, then change my mind and go back for another nibble. He tastes better than anything, ever. But… “Get naked.”
“Huh?” He blinks at me, eyes a little dazed from all the kissing, and triumph fizzles through me. I do that to him—this powerful, respected man. I reduce him to dazed lust.
“Naked,” I repeat. “I want to fuck my boyfriend.” I untangle myself from his arms, stand, grab the hem of my T-shirt, and pull it off over my head. Eoin scrambles to his feet with gratifying speed, and by the time I’ve dropped my pants, he’s nearly caught up.
And then he drops to his knees. It’s a beautiful sight, this strong, powerful man kneeling for me, and my heart clutches in my chest.
“Kneel up on the couch,” he orders, and I frown, trying to work out those logistics. He’s tall, but not that tall. “Facing the back.”
Facing the… oh. Ohhhhh. I turn around so fast, I nearly fall over, then scramble onto the couch and present my ass. For a moment, nothing happens, and I swear I tremble with anticipation.
Eoin’s breath wafts across my most sensitive skin, and my eyes drift closed—only to open when he trails a finger slowly down my cleft.
“You’re going to torture me, aren’t you?”
His chuckle is his only reply as his finger teases my hole… and then it’s replaced by the wet heat of his tongue, and I forget everything I was thinking.
He’s so… damn… good… at this.
Soon the nerve-tingling pleasure morphs into driving need, his talented attention winding me up into nonsensical babble as I push back into his mouth. My hand slides down to grab my cock, squeezing around the base before I pump it once. Too dry… What’s the lube spell? I can’t think.
Then Eoin’s mouth is gone, and I whimper at the loss, but it’s replaced within seconds by the nudge of his hard dick.
“Yesss,” I gasp, pushing out eagerly—not that my muscles have any tension left in them.
He slides in even more easily than an eternity of sloppy rimming should allow, and when his hand comes around to take over working my cock, it’s wet with lube.
Obviously he’s still capable of remembering the spell.
I’ll have to see what I can do to change that.
Bracing my forearms on the back of the couch, I flex my hips, forcing him all the way into me, and his choked gasp is my reward.
“Easy,” he breathes. “You’ll hurt—”
“I won’t. Come on, Eoin. Do me hard. I want to feel like your cock is permanently embedded in me.” Remembering my own drunken rambling from the night at the club, I add, “Merge me with the universe.” I punctuate it by clenching my ass muscles around him.
The sound he makes is part laugh and part groan, but he takes me at my word, pulling back and ramming into me just the way I want it.
I thrust my ass backward to meet him, and he doesn’t even need to jack me off—the tight clasp of his hand and the friction from our movements is going to do the work for him.
I try to focus on making this as good for him as possible. On this first time with us being official boyfriends being special, noteworthy. I have no idea if I hold up my end, but I know I’ll never forget this.
“Fuck, Dáithí, I’m going to come,” he grunts. “Are you close? Please?”
“Come, baby. I love you.”
The low-pitched scream sounds like it’s torn from his throat as his thrusts stutter, and the liquid heat of his cum floods me. That’s all it takes to send me into the best orgasm of my life.
Much later, in bed, I cuddle up to Eoin’s side, secure and warm.
Maybe I still can’t know what the future holds.
Eoin would never deliberately hurt me, but that doesn’t mean his feelings won’t one day change, and if that happens, it will shatter me.
But I don’t need to let fear of something that might never come keep me from basking in his love now.
Even if that means living with the tiny spark of doubt I can’t quite shake.
I trust Eoin, and I trust that one day, that doubt will be buried under all the love he’s given me.
“Dáithí?” he asks, his voice cutting through the darkness.
“Hm?” I thought he was asleep already.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t understand how hard it was for you to give me your trust. I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate the commitment you made to me tonight.”
My heartbeat drums loudly in my ears. “W-Why would I think that?”
“Because I’m going to finish the Summit of Love.”
We’re still arguing about it when we get off the elevator at work the next morning. Eoin refuses to see reason.
“It’s not necessary,” I insist for the millionth time. “I don’t want you to.”
“Uh-huh. I’m still going to, though.”
I stomp over to my desk, unlock the ward on the bottom drawer, and grab my spray bottle.
“So that’s where you put it,” he says from right behind me. Good. Saves me having to walk back to him. I straighten and aim the nozzle at him as I squeeze the handle.
“Hey!” He takes two big steps back, but I follow, spraying again and again. “Stop that! Dáithí!” There’s an edge of laughter in his voice, and I spray him again. He’s getting pretty damp.
“What’s this?”
I glance over at where the king and Brandt have just gotten off the elevator. It’s not the ideal moment for both my bosses to walk in, but I’ve never hidden my habit of using unconventional tactics. I even sprayed Brandt once.
“My boyfriend is being a stubborn, unreasonable ass, so I’m correcting his behavior.” I follow Eoin as he continues backing away from me.
“It’s not going to work,” he insists, and I spritz again. Lucky I refilled not that long ago.
“Make sure you mop up before anyone slips,” the king says mildly, and I cackle at Eoin’s betrayed expression.
“Sir!”
“Boyfriend?” Brandt demands. “I thought Dáithí didn’t use that word.”
“He does now.” Eoin’s grin is huge. “We’re official.”
Aw. I love seeing how happy that makes him. Spritz, spritz. His yelp is deeply rewarding.
“Congratulations!” Brandt whips out his phone and… yep, he starts recording. “Is this your first argument as an official couple?”
“Yes,” Eoin says, lunging toward me in an attempt to grab the bottle. I dance out of his reach.
“It’s not an argument,” I contradict. “That would require us both to be using reason and logic, which he is not.” I dart closer and spray him before scrambling back again.
“Well, now I’m curious,” His Majesty declares, just as the elevator doors open and a group of our coworkers exit—then stop and stare.
The king waves them on, and they reluctantly go, dragging their feet and looking over their shoulders.
Gossip is currency around here, and news is going to spread fast.
I don’t care.
“We’re official now,” I repeat what Eoin already told them, chasing him around my desk, “but this stubborn fool claims he’s still going to continue with the stupid challenges.” I refuse to call it the Summit of Love again. Not in public. It’s bad enough that Eoin heard me say it out loud.
“Why?” Brandt asks. “Speak up, please.” He’s still pointing his phone camera at us.
“Because he’s a fool.” I spritz to punctuate the sentence, even though Eoin’s not close enough to get the benefit of it. It makes me feel better. Maybe I should get the other bottle—the itching one.
“A fool in love, maybe,” he counters, and our bosses both say, “Aww.”
“I’m glad you’re recording,” the king adds. “Jared will want to see this.”
“You’re not helping, sir,” Eoin calls.
“I’m not trying to. After all, you weren’t helpful when Jared and I were first dating.”
It’s true, but the urge to defend Eoin rises strongly in me. “He was looking out for—Hey!” My boyfriend took advantage of my distraction to get close enough to steal the bottle—while I was defending him!
“You can have this back when I go,” he tells me, and I narrow my eyes.
“Excuse me?”
“Run, Eoin,” Brandt suggests, still filming. I ignore him, focusing on my boyfriend.
“I’m not going to let you squirt water at me when I haven’t done anything wrong,” my aforementioned boyfriend asserts. “But I will help you mop up the water.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Why are you doing this?”
Confused, he glances at the floor. “Because it’s wet and we don’t want anyone to slip.”
“No! Not that. This!” I gesture wildly.
Eoin grins, his arms loosely at his sides with my spray bottle dangling from one hand. I eye it and wonder what the chances are of me being able to snatch it back and hit him over the head with it.
“Use more words, Dáithí. ‘This’ is pretty broad.”
The elevator doors open again just in time for everyone inside to hear me shout, “Your asinine insistence on completing the Summit of Love!”
There’s a sudden, blanketing silence, and then someone inside the elevator says, “Hurry, hit the Door Close button.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, heat flooding my cheeks as someone else says, “No! I want to hear. Let me off!”
There’s a jumble of voices, and then I open my eyes to see a few people getting out of the elevator while behind them, a woman stabs repeatedly at the control panel—probably the Door Close button.
“Good morning,” the king says to the newcomers.
“I’m sure you’re eager to get to your desks.
” It’s a thinly veiled order, but from the way all three drag their feet, none of them is eager to leave.
His Majesty keeps an expectant look on them all the way to the security gate, but the second he turns away, a blond elf from Accounting speaks up.
“What’s the Summit of Love? Is that a sex thing? If it’s a sex thing, I’d like to know about it.”
“It’s not a sex thing,” Brandt says, and her face falls in disappointment. “It’s a love thing.”
She opens her mouth, but the king clears his throat, and she changes her mind, following the others through the security gate instead.
I turn my glare on Eoin. “Thanks for that. Becoming a laughingstock has always been high on my to-do list.”
“Anybody who dares to laugh at you will regret it,” he informs me, then shocks me by handing the spray bottle to Brandt, who gasps and studies it like it’s both radioactive and the meaning of life.
I’m still sputtering when Eoin catches me loosely in his arms, leaving just enough space between us so we can see each other’s faces.
“I love you,” he says solemnly. “What you did last night means more to me than any other gift I’ve ever been given. You love me, you trust me, and you’re committing to me, openly and publicly. I know how hard that is for you, and that just makes it mean more.”
“Then—”
“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head. “Let me finish. It’s because of how much it means and how hard it is that I want to finish the challenges. Do you remember the night I said I wanted to do this?”
I’ll never forget. “Yes.”
“Do you remember telling me I didn’t have to, and why I said I wanted to?
” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I want to prove beyond any shadow of doubt that you’ve made the right decision, so that one day in the future, when we have a stupid fight or I forget something that’s important to you or whatever might happen that causes doubt to rear its ugly head in your brain, you can remember the Summit of Love and shove all those fears aside. ”
My breath catches. How can he know me this well? Know what I barely know about myself? “Eoin…” It’s barely a whisper, and I can’t quite manage to put my feelings into words.
He leans in and kisses me, murmuring, “I know,” against my lips.
Whoever said the perfect man didn’t exist was wrong. He does… and he’s mine.