Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9 (11 page)

Kathleen stepped out of the car and looked doubtfully at the old building. A big “closed for renovation” sign hung haphazardly upon the back door. “Finnegan’s Pub?” she asked, confused.

“Aye,” Jack said, fishing out his keys. His shaking fingers fumbled the key several times before he coaxed the ancient lock open and tugged her inside. “Privacy. No one will bother us here.”

“But -—”

“No buts,” he said, leaning down for another kiss. “Now stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Just trust me, Kathleen. Please.”

Her features softened. “Always.”

The look she gave him seared into his soul, filled with so much trust, so much love. His heart felt like it just might explode.

Jack left her in the kitchen, disappearing behind the door that led to the private living quarters upstairs. He took the steps two at a time, hurrying to complete the final preparations as quickly as possible. He’d set up as much as he could earlier, so it was only a matter of minutes before he re-emerged.

Kathleen was looking around the kitchen with interest, curiosity in her bright green eyes. He hoped that was a good sign. But for now, they had more important things to do.

In one swift move, one arm hooked beneath her knees, the other supported her back. Jack swept her up against his chest.

“Now close your eyes.”

“Jack,” she began to protest.

“Hush, Kathleen. It’s a surprise.”

The corners of her mouth curled at the ends and her lashes dutifully shuttered. Jack practically ran across the kitchen and up the narrow staircase, emerging on the second floor. The place wouldn’t win any interior decorating contests, but he’d done the best he could. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

The room had a fresh coat of paint, and the floor had been swept and buffed. A brand new bed made up with silk sheets and the best pillows and comforter he could find commanded the eye. A fire blazed in the scrubbed stone hearth. Fragrant candles of various sizes and shapes sat on every available surface. Fresh flower petals had been dropped around the bed, their fragrance filling the room.

“Oh, Jack,” she breathed. “You did all of this?”

“Do you like it?” he asked softly.

“It’s
perfect
.”

Jack carried his new bride to the bed and set her down gently. He pulled the bottle of chilled champagne from the bucket on the bedside table and poured them each a glass. Slipping off his shoes, he joined her in bed and sat down beside her.

“To my beautiful wife,” he began, curling his arm with hers so they drank from each other’s glasses. “
Mo croie beloved
. I will love you, always.”

“As I will love you,
mo croie beloved
,” she answered.

“Want more?” Jack asked, taking her empty glass.

“Yes,” she answered, “but not champagne.”

He grinned wolfishly, answering the desire in her eyes with his own. “Let me get right on that.”

“Yes, please do.”

He laughed, setting the glasses off to the side. “Are you warm enough?” he asked, kissing the bare skin of her shoulders as he removed the jacket he’d lent her. His hands were shaking; not with fear, but with anticipation. It was an effort to move slowly when all he wanted to do was rip that thin strip of silk from her body and claim it the way he’d dreamed.

“Aye,” she whispered.

The flickering candlelight danced over her skin, so smooth and fragrant, unmarred and perfect. Her unique scent was firmly ingrained in his olfactory memory, synonymous with everything good in his world. He didn’t know what kind of body lotion or perfume she wore, but whatever it was, he was going to buy her cases of it.

Jack tugged at the delicate straps of her slip, dragging it down to reveal full breasts encased in yet more white satin. “Are you nervous?”

“No. Just anxious.”

He pressed kisses to her skin, tracing the outline of lace. With each one, her breasts heaved a bit more. She arched toward him, her nipples now clearly visible. It was more temptation than a man could take. He tugged that down, too, the breath escaping his lungs in a whoosh when the tips pebbled beneath his gaze.

His mouth closed around one even as his hands began to blindly work at the clasp. She gasped and thrust her fingers into his hair.

“Ah, Jack. You have the right of it,” she hummed, her natural brogue rising to the surface and coloring her words. It sent yet another bolt of lusty desire straight into his groin. He gently nipped and sucked in reward.

Her nails scraped against his scalp as his hands continued their mission to remove anything between them. With his mouth happily teasing her breasts, he mapped out the rest of her curves and dips, committing them to memory. His easy exploration should have ratcheted his desire to unbearable levels, but it didn’t. Secure in the knowledge that she was now his, he could take his time and savor her with the reverence she deserved.

Tingling fingers trailed down the outside of her thigh. As if pulled by a string, her knee lifted and rubbed against him. “You have far too many clothes on, Mr. Callaghan,” she observed.

Jack wasn’t ready to lay skin to skin with her just yet. His control, while on a tight leash, was manageable; but if his bare cock touched any of that soft, creamy flesh, it would snap completely.

“Please, Jack,” she begged. Her hands left his head and made quick work of his black tie, then moved down to his starched white shirt, opening the buttons with skill and dexterity until she reached his cummerbund. A brief feminine grunt of frustration bubbled over her lips before she simply yanked the fabric free.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm, but that sound became a hiss when her hands raked across his chest. Who could have foreseen such pleasure from such a simple touch? As he had explored her, so she returned the favor. She moved over his pecs with a purr of satisfaction. Any worries he might have had about her being put off by his scars were quickly cast aside. Her gentle fingers found every one, claiming and rebranding it as her own. Her eyes flashed with desire, pure and possessive, letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that he was hers, scars and all.

To punctuate that, she palmed and then scraped his male nipples, then moved downward. Before he knew it, his clever bride had managed to unfasten his cummerbund and was working on his trousers.

Clearly he’d underestimated her; before his next full breath, she was reaching in and curling her glorious hand around him. Reflexively, his hips bucked of their own accord, thrusting into her palm. With small, torturous circular movements, she spread the thick wetness around with her thumb, lubricating the tip of his shaft. Though they had refrained from penetrative sex prior to their wedding, he was intimately familiar with her handiwork. As good as it felt, he couldn’t allow her to continue. He was already far too close.

Distraction, that’s what he needed. Intent on her task, she didn’t take notice of his wandering fingers until they stroked between her slick, wet folds. Kathleen’s hand clenched in a tight squeeze at the same time her head fell back and she cried out.

“Christ, Kathleen,” he breathed. “You are so wet for me.”

“I’ve been waiting for seven years, Jack,” she countered huskily. “I’m more than ready.”

His middle finger teased around her entrance, strokes meant to test her claim. Perhaps she was mentally prepared for this, but not physically. He eased inside, tiny thrusts with a single digit. Imagining himself inside that perfect, tight, wet heat was too much; instead, he concentrated only on giving her pleasure.

When she began rolling her hips against his hand, he added another finger and pushed deeper. Encountering the thin membrane that marked her innocence helped him focus. Yes, he would have her. And yes, they would be joined. But he would make it as painless as possible.

The rhythmic rocking of her hips increased in tempo and he felt her begin to tighten around his fingers. Jack pressed his thumb against her sensitive nub while matching his thrust to the pace she had set, and within seconds, her entirely body tensed and she cried out his name.

She clamped down on his fingers so hard he felt it in his groin. A telltale tingle fired to life at the base of his spine and he clenched his teeth and willed it away. He could wait. He would wait. And when he finally did allow himself that glorious release, it was going to be deep within his
croie
.

Jack eased her down from her climax, massaging her with gentle pressure from his palm and kissing her, long and deep.

“Enough stalling.
Now
, Jack.”

Unable to deny her any longer, Jack pulled away only long enough to divest himself of his clothes, tossing each item into a rumpled heap on the floor. Kathleen watched him intently, raking her gaze over his shoulders, his chest, his abs. He held his breath as she roamed over his many scars, but he needn’t have worried. Not once did he see an ounce of pity; only approval blazed in her eyes.

Approval. And desire.

When he shucked the last of his clothing, she lifted up higher on her elbows for a better look. His turgid cock bobbed toward her in a bid for attention, successfully drawing her gaze. Her eyes widened and her tongue peeked out and licked her lips.

Her eyes met his again, now darkened to a deep emerald green. Silently, he climbed onto the bed. Kathleen lay back and parted her legs, opening her arms in welcome.

Jack moved over her, lowering himself until he was seated between her thighs and her lush, full breasts pressed against his chest. He held himself there, poised at her entrance, savoring the moment.

“
Is breá liom tú
,” he whispered.
I love you
.

“
Is breá liom tú
.”

“Breathe.”

As air entered her body, so did he. Jack rocked his hips and pressed forward as gently as he could, spearing through her innocence. Her sheath clutched around him, briefly protesting the sudden invasion. Her pearly white fingernails, poised at his shoulders, dug into his skin and pierced him.

After seven years of waiting, it was done. Kathleen was his. If he could have spared her the pain, he would have, but he was also grateful for it, for it meant that no other man would ever receive this precious gift.

“Are you all right?” he whispered, holding himself deep within. Her eyes blinked rapidly once or twice before she smiled.

“Never better.”

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, making love to her mouth as he made love to her body: slowly, and with great care and tenderness.

“Why do you keep stopping?” she asked one of the several times he’d had to pause. He made the most of the time by fondling her breasts, rasping his calloused hands over her stiff nipples, trailing kisses beneath her jaw.

“Impatient, Mrs. Callaghan?” he chuckled.

“A little,” she admitted. It was the worry in her voice that penetrated the haze of need. He pulled his mouth away from her collar bone and looked into her face. “Look at me, Kathleen.”

Her lashes fluttered, then opened as she met his eyes. He was stunned by what he saw there – love, yes, but also doubt and worry. “What is it, Kathleen?”

“Why aren’t you...?”

She couldn’t say the words. It took him a few moments to understand, and when he did, he was floored. “My sweet, beautiful bride. I have never felt anything as good as being inside you. Ever. It is precisely for that reason that I have to stop.” He smiled wryly. “I don’t want your memories of tonight to include how your new husband lasted less than a minute. Because if I wasn’t forcing myself to stop, that is exactly what would have happened.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And this first time, I want us to reach paradise together.”

Her arms entwined around his neck. She smiled and pulled him back for a kiss, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting her heels on his ass. At the same time, she tilted her hips upward, deepening his penetration.

“Then let’s be getting on with it.”

He loved her smart, sassy mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

Obediently he began moving inside her, anxious to put his words into action. He pumped with slightly more force than before, rolling his hips to maximize her pleasure. He knew he’d found just the right spot when she sucked in a breath and tightened her hold.

“Look at me, Kathleen,” he breathed. “I want to see your face when I come inside you.”

She moaned, but did as he commanded. All too soon he felt the pressure building again. He clenched his teeth, determined to bring her with him. When her lips parted and her nails scored his back, he increased the speed and power of his strokes. He hoped to hell she was as close as he thought she was, because there was no stopping now.

Kathleen’s mouth opened on a silent scream as her body arched beneath him. Thank God. He released the tether on his control and gave himself over to her, thrusting once, twice and then exploding in a burst of light.

He held on tight, surrendering to her as her body assumed control, squeezing around him, drawing forth everything he had. White hot heat pulsed out from him and into her, and it was better than anything he had imagined.

Pushing her hair away from her face, he looked down to find her features softened in ecstasy. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” she purred. “I’m so glad you waited for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you,” he promised. He rolled to the side, pulling her with him so they remained joined. He wasn’t sure he’d ever let her go.

“Can we stay here for a little?” she asked sleepily, her voice was thick with satisfaction.

Jack tucked her head against his neck, “Of course we can stay.”

“Good,” she mumbled. “We’ll get an early start in the morning...”

“W
hat time is it?” Kathleen asked groggily. “And what are you doing all the way over there?”

“About nine,” Jack chuckled, pleased that she seemed a bit miffed with him for leaving their marriage bed. “And I’m throwing a few more logs on the fire.”

Kathleen rubbed her eyes, then leaned up on one elbow to see him better. “Should you be doing that? We need to get on the road soon, don’t we?”