Becoming the Whiskey Princess (9 page)

I
want to tell her no.

I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do any of it. That all she has to do is be with me. Love me. But even I know that all this goes with being an O’Callaghan woman. They go to tea with stuck-up old ladies, they shop for expensive clothes that half the time don’t even look good on them, and they plan parties. I know that this isn’t what Amberlyn’s scene is, and that makes me a bit nervous. How much is she gonna take before it’s too much? I’m going to have to have a talk with my family.

And her.

I really don’t want to upset her though. She is happy for the most part but still in some pain, something I still blame myself for. Not that I would admit it to her. I just don’t know anymore. I am tiptoeing on the line between knowing what is right and not knowing at all. I know I want to marry her, be with her forever, but can I do that and still keep her happy? I want to think I can, trust I can. But I can’t help but realize she isn’t from my world, and I am plucking her from hers and putting her in mine, expecting it to all go well.

Glancing over at her, I see that she is watching me, a little smile on her beautiful lips as she holds my hand with both of hers. She looks gorgeous tonight; the skirt she’s wearing is long, and it almost seems as if she is floating through the halls of my home. I love walking with her like this, but more so, I love seeing her in my home. I can’t wait until the moment that she never leaves. That when I come home, she’s here, waiting for me. We will bring our children here, raise them. I can see it. I can.

“You’re quiet.”

I smile, squeezing her hand as I nod. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Us.”

Leaning her head on my shoulder, she says, “Good thing to think about.”

“I think so too,” I say. “I’m sorry if my family offended ya.”

“They didn’t.” She looks up at me and shrugs. “It’s just weird.”

“It’s going to take some getting used to,” I say, but then I pause. Something flickers in her eyes, something almost like resistance. Like she wanted to say something but is holding back. “What?”

She shakes her head, but I push on. “Tell me.”

Meeting my gaze again, she goes, “Fiona says that you guys are going to change me. That I can’t be me and be an O’Callaghan.”

I nod before stopping and turning to her. “I mean, there are expectations of us.”

She watches me for a moment and asks, “What kind of expectations?”

I bite my lip and let out a long breath. “You have to dress the part, go to tea with people you don’t know or like. You have to, shite, I don’t know, Amberlyn. I don’t care about that stuff. All I care about is you. I want you.”

“I want that too,” she says quietly as she looks down, lacing her fingers together. “I’ll admit they make me nervous. I don’t want to change me. I love me, but I also don’t want to live a moment without you.”

“I love you too, and I would never ask you to be something you’re not. My parents might try though; I’m not going to lie. I’ll talk to them, and hopefully, it won’t be that bad.”

She still looks unsure, so I say, “But Amberlyn, things are going to change. You won’t be Amberlyn Reilly anymore. You’ll be Amberlyn O’Callaghan, my wife, and with that, we have to do parties and stupid shite, when really, I’d rather lie in bed with you and never leave. So, this is your out, my love. I tried to get a year so that you could see more of my life and how it works, but I couldn’t. If you’re not ready for it, please, tell me, and I’ll let you go. I want you to be happy. I want you to live the life you deserve.”

With a grin, she steps to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’m not going anywhere. The life I deserve is with you.”

“Ya sure?” I ask ’cause I’m sure that I see differently in her sweet eyes.

“Very. I know you won’t make me do something I don’t want to do.”

“I won’t,” I promise.

“So we’re good. I’ll go with it, but the moment I feel something isn’t right, I’ll say something.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“So, while we are discussing that, I don’t want to move in here.”

My brows come together as I eye her. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to move in with your parents. That’s weird. We are adults. We have to have our own place.”

What?

I see Lena and Micah coming toward us over her shoulder, and I don’t want them to hear us. Taking her hand in mine, I lead her down the hall and up the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

I look back at her. “My room.”

“Oh,” is her answer as we go down another hall.

“My family lives in the North Wing, which is eight rooms, twelve bathrooms, two dining rooms, a huge kitchen, and three studies. It is also broken up into the three stories. My room is at the top with no one else. Lena is on the second, and my parents are on the main. I’ll have to take you on a tour of the whole house,” I say as I reach for my door and push it open.

I move to the side and watch her face as she enters. “Holy crap, it’s a like a penthouse.”

I smile. “Yeah. Have my own bathroom, balcony, and sitting area. Through that door is the bedroom,” I say, walking past her to open the door to my bedroom. The room is large with big stained glass windows and another door that leads to the bathroom. In the middle is a huge four-poster bed that is fit for a king, as my ma always says. I’ve slept in that bed since I was a baby. Amberlyn walks in, an expression of awe on her face as she looks around.

“I like the blue.”

“It’s my favorite color.”

She smiles back at me before pointing the door to the right. “What’s in there?”

“I wish I could say it was something cool like a room of sex toys, but no, it’s a closet,” I joke as I push the door open. She peeks in, her eyes going wide.

“This is a whole other room! Why do you need all this space?”

I laugh as she goes in, hitting the light. One side is full of all my suits, hung in order by color. Below them are all my shoes. On the other rack are all my shirts and shorts and a few pair of jeans and slacks. More shoes and some of my winter equipment. The other side, though, is completely bare.

“For my wife,” I say, answering her question. “This closet was redone when I turned sixteen since that’s when I started looking for a wife. Or so my parents thought. I think my mom’s goal was to lure a woman with a huge closet if she married me. I was a little dorky back then.”

She laughs, “I highly doubt that.”

“Ah, let’s say the curls weren’t tamed then. Pretty sure I have a Brillo pad head.”

She turns to me, wrapping her arms around my midsection. “I would still find you crazy hot and want you. Brillo pad head and all.”

I chuckle as I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. My body catches fire immediately, as always. There is something about this gorgeous girl’s body against mine that drives me mad. Insanely mad. Capturing her mouth with mine, I hold her to me as my mouth works with hers. I gasp against her lips as her fingers move up my neck, as my hands drift down her arse. Squeezing the two globes, I lift her up without really thinking. Am I sure about this?

When her legs wrap around my waist, her tongue moving into my mouth, I know I am.

Carrying her to my bed, I lay her down, kissing down her jaw and neck as I press myself into her. She is so soft, while I am beyond hard. I can feel the heat coming off her in waves, and I don’t know if I can handle this. Kissing down her neck to her chest, I pause at the gunshot wound and close my eyes. This spot will always remind me of what Casey’s arse did to her, but it will also always remind me of the unconditional love she has for me.

Kissing the spot below it, I move up so I can look down into her flushed face. Pressing my hard cock into her, I am rewarded with a gasp as her face reddens more.

“I need ya, Amberlyn,” I say, my voice raspy and full of desire.

“I’m yours,” she answers, moving her hand up to my face, running her thumb along my jaw.

“Are ya sure?” I ask, my control slipping as I wait for the answer I need. Maybe she wants to wait until we are married or something. Shite, I don’t know, I just fucking want her.

“Yeah.”

Fuck. Thank God.

Dropping my mouth to hers, I kiss her long and hard as my other hand moves her skirt up her thighs so I can cup her bare arse. Grunting against her lips, I squeeze her as I press into her, wanting her so bad, I am shaking. Pulling back, I go up on my knees and then pull her up to me. Her lips meet mine as I gather her dress in my hands before pulling away so I can slowly lift the dress up her body. Throwing it to the side, I take in the beauty of my fiancée. Her skin is as white as December but with splotches of red from her desire for me. This is the first time I’ve seen her almost completely naked for me, so perfect and all wanton just for me.

It’s a sight that I’ll hold in my mind for the rest of my life.

“You are stunning, my love,” I whisper against her lips as I pull the cups of her bra down, taking her nipple into my mouth. Swirling my tongue along it, my hand creeps down her ribs to her hips when the lace of her panties lies. I push them down as I kiss from her breast down her stomach to the spot above her pussy. She is wet, her desire all over the hair along her lips.

Looking up at her, I say, “I’m going to take you in my mouth,
mo stór.”

She nods, her breathing labored and her eyes blazing with need. Watching her, I drop my head and take her into my mouth. Her eyes roll back as I move my tongue along her, opening her farther so I can get to all of her. Her fingers bite into my shoulders when I start to flick my tongue against her clit, her cries getting louder with each flick. She is squirming, crying out, and I know I’m about to lose it. She is so hot, so responsive, and I want her so damn bad.

Coming undone, she tries to squeezes her thighs shut, but I hold them open, pressing my tongue to her clit to lengthen the orgasm. Her legs are shaking against my elbows as I slowly run my tongue along her, licking up her desire. She tastes like heaven, and the thought that I get to do this for the rest of my life is a little mind-blowing. How does one get this lucky? To find someone who completes them?

I’m not sure, but I know I have to be in her. Though I know if I do, I’m going to come the second I am inside. Going up on my knees again, I release my cock from my pants and take it in my hand as I stare down at her. Reaching down for her, I bring her to me, moving my mouth with hers. I need to come real quick, and then I’ll get in her. I should have done this before I took her to bed, but I wasn’t thinking clearly then. Now, I have to take care of this before I embarrass myself.

“What are you doing?” she asks, moving her hands along my chest under my shirt. “Aren’t I supposed to do that?”

I smile shyly before pausing my stroke to take my jacket off and then my shirt. Shaking my head, I say, “Just kiss me. It’ll be quick, and then I’ll take care of you again.”

“But aren’t you supposed to be inside me now?” she asks as I start to stroke myself again.

“No, if I get in you, I’ll be done. Gotta get this first one out,” I pant as my body goes taut. I want to come so badly, but she is looking at me like I have three heads!

“Well, let me do it, then.”

“No, not yet. Soon,” I say, picking up speed. “Kiss me.”

I don’t know why I thought she’d do as I said. With a sneaky grin on her face, she stops my strokes and takes my cock into her hand. Everything goes still—my body, my mind, everything as I watch her discover me. She runs her hand along me, cupping my balls, but then she goes to lower her mouth to me, and I don’t know why, but I stop her.