Page 83 of Bargain with the Irish Devil
“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.” He assures me. “You need to be in bed. Aoife told me you didn’t take your nap today.”
“She’s such a snitch. I laid down.” I defend myself. “I was just worried what you’d think about it being a boy.”
“No need for you to be worried. It’s fine. Hopefully, we’ll get a girl next time.”
“I’ll go to bed if you do too.” I run my hand down his chest.
He sighs as he backs away. “No, love. Just you.”
His rejection is as painful as if he smacked me. I blink back the tears. It’s already happening. I don’t know why I thought I’d have more time.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Declan tries to touch me, and I push him away. Hating the idea of his hands on me.
“Whatever. Go away.”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” His hand is rough around my arm.
“What’s the matter is if you’re going to fuck around now, then just go. No reason to?—”
Eyes wide with shock and anger, he pulls me up against him. “Fuck around? Have you lost your mind? I haven’t touched another woman since I laid eyes on you. Jesus, Miranda. I would never do that to you. How the hell do you think I could?” His hands are around my arms, refusing to let me hide. “Look at me, damn it.”
“Right. Whatever. You don’t touch me. You’re out of bed before I wake up. Fine. You didn’t like the idea of going without sex—I got the message loud and clear.” I can’t look him in the eyes. I’m swiping at the tears I hate he’s seeing.
His hands are wrapped around my arms, holding me in place. “Hey, look at me. I’m not a fucking teenager who can’t go a few months without getting his dick wet. With all the changes your body is going through, I find you so fucking sexy I can’t keep my hands off you. Don’t you remember a few weeks ago, when I kept you up all night? I’m trying to not be a lecher and give you some damn room. You fell asleep. I had no idea—I felt like a fucking rapist…”
Oh my god. I remember now. He was quiet for a few days after that, and that’s when it started. I had no idea he felt that way. “I told you?—”
“And I know, I get it. You swore you weren’t asleep for more than a few minutes, but it felt wrong. I’ve been trying to wait until you instigated.”
“I just did. And you back away. I was sure you didn’t find me sexy anymore.”
“But to go to thinking I could touch another woman?” He’s still hurt.
I shrug helplessly. “Nothing good lasts.”
Sighing, his hands slide around me and tighten until I’m pressed into him. “Hey, look at me. We’re not good. We’re amazing. We are the other’s destiny, and our story only ends when one or both of us are gone. We will last. Trust in me. Trust in us.”
I nod and nuzzle into him. Embarrassed and so very grateful for him. “Declan Kelly, if you had asked me, I would have begged you to make love to me in the morning. Please don’t worry. I was worried you didn’t want me that my stomach and I’m too big?—”
One shoulder goes up. “After all night holding you, it kills me not having you in the morning, and it seems like mornings are hardest on you. The doctor told me women get needy around now. But I want you all the damn time. You are so fucking sexy. If I could spend all day in bed with you, I would.” He leans down and kisses my stomach. “I did this. Your body has changed because of me. And there is nothing sexier than that. I love how free you’ve become. I was worried I was taking advantage of you.”
I’m picked up and put down on the bed. Relief fills me when he follows me down. Widening my legs for his large body, I can’t keep the gasp in at what his thickening cock does to me as he settles into the cradle of my body.
“It’s only taking advantage if I don’t get anything in return. Me getting you is all I want.” I run a hand over his face. The way he leans into my touch twists me up inside. “I’m going to need you to show me.”
His smile becomes so wicked. “I will, and from now on, you’re the one to initiate sex. Wherever, whenever, it has to be up to you.”
If he means it, then I envision an erotic and thrilling next few months. “In that case, I need you right now.”
Blue deepens and churns into a rough ocean. “Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”
Every time he calls me his wife, a zip of electricity runs over every nerve in my body. He always says it with pride, smugness, and an ownership that the tiny feminist in me screams is so wrong to love.
In a flash, he’s on his knees. The sundress I’m wearing disappears from my body in seconds. His tongue runs over his lips in a wolfish manner that should scare me but only sends a flood of wet heat to my core at what it promises.
A groan slides from him as his eyes cling to my body. “So fucking sexy. Every inch of you.”
Rough hands squeeze my hips as his mouth presses against the base of my neck, where my heart is pounding. With one flick of his wrist, the silk and chiffon bra I’m wearing is open. Nipples tighten almost to the point of pain from his eyes alone.
