Chapter Fifteen

Choices

Hands roused her a few hours later, roaming her curves, lips coaxing the side of her neck. In truth, Lark had already been stirring, but she let him carry on until she opened her eyes.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He nodded to the fire, which had gone out. It was still morning, judging by the darkness outside the curtains. “What’s the time?” she asked, sitting up.

“Half past three. I figured you may want to go somewhere more comfortable.”

Lark rolled her stiff neck, touching his forearm. “And private. My room?”

“Sure,” he whispered, gathering their clothes and helping her stand. They dressed against the morning chill and walked into the kitchen. Lark turned the stove light on and poured them both glasses of water. Niall searched the fridge and took a small plate of chicken legs out, then followed her upstairs.

Pam’s room was on the opposite side of the house, and she took something to help her sleep, but as a precaution, Lark locked her bedroom door behind them once they were inside and propped the top of her vanity chair against the handle so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Niall set his glass and food on the nightstand and turned on her bedside lamp, surveying the room as he ate a bite of chicken.

“You’re the first guy I’ve made love to in this house.” She draped her arms around his torso.

“I’m honored,” he assured her, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her mouth up for a quick kiss. “In fact, we should christen your room.”

She wasn’t about to say no. She blushed, touching his cheek. “Okay, but let’s clean first. C’mon.” She took his hand and led him into the bathroom.

Lark looked in the mirror. Her pupils were dilated with arousal and a puffy from lack of sleep. Niall sported a morning stubble. Several splotchy red marks garnished her neck and his from their exertions, and their hair was disheveled. Kissing the top of her hair, Niall wound his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on top of her head, cradling her to him. Their reflections swayed. She closed her eyes and placed her hands over his on her stomach.

“I don’t want this night to end.”

Niall clutched her tighter to him and spoke softly in her ear. “It’s not over yet. I’ve got plans for you, love, and they involve lots of time in your bed.”

When they’d both cleaned up, she hugged him, kissing beneath his jaw. “You’re so much more than I ever imagined. You make me feel special.”

He pulled back, his eyes drinking her in. “You are special.” His hands caressed her face, neck, and shoulders, and then slid to her waist as he kissed her. “I love talking to you, and you feel so good whenever I touch you. All I want to do is be near you, Lark.”

She hugged him. What would happen now? She’d bared herself to him, and it was more than simple physical intimacy. It was emotional nakedness of the soul.

Despite the uncertainty of what would come, she believed without question she was in safe hands with Niall. Being with him soothed her. As though to reassure her, he turned her to the side and lifted her, his arm beneath her knees as she clung to his neck. To be able to be picked up was gratification in and of itself, but more so was the solid strength of his arms as he carried her to the bed. He lay her on the coverlet and stretched out over her, kissing her again.

She glanced at the nightstand. “Turn off the light.”

He shook his head. “No. I want to see you.” The mattress dipped beneath their weight, and he pressed into her, piquant and heavy, the hard line of his body molding to hers. His tongue slid into the cavern of her mouth, exploring and tasting her. The savory flavor of chicken lingered on his tongue, and she dived in for more, eliciting a low rumble from him.

“If you keep that up, Shakespeare, you’ll get your comeuppance.”

He grabbed her ass and rolled them over, and she squealed in delight. He moved her legs apart, so she straddled him on top. Lark sat up. His erection pressed between their layers of clothes, and her eyes fluttered at the sensation. He grinned, rubbing the tops of her thighs, her hips, pushing up beneath the hem of her shirt. She helped him take it off and tossed it over her shoulder. His hands came to rest at her breasts, and he traced her nipples over her bra with his thumbs.

“Your breasts are so lovely, Lark.” She shivered, leaning forward as he pressed his thumbs in and lightly kneaded them. “I love the way they fit in my hands. I swear I’ll never have enough of you.”

She bit her lip, and he sat upright, attacking her neck with his mouth, his teeth plucking her skin, sending tiny shivers down her throat.

“I dreamed of this.” Her voice sounded husky.

“Oh, yeah? You dreamed I was in your room?”

He slid the strap of her bra off one shoulder, freeing her breast to latch on to it with his lips. He licked it lovingly, and she moaned, grinding her hips against him. He yanked her other bra strap, not so gentle this time, taking her nipple into his mouth. He sucked harder, tugging it with tender insistence, and then laved the underside with his tongue.

Lark unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. “Mmm. Yes.”

“Interesting.”

Preoccupied, he slid his hand along her upper thigh, spreading and sliding his fingers along her leg. Each time he got higher, his thumb abraded her pussy, taunting it as he used more and more pressure in his touch with each visit. She raised herself on her knees, gazing at him as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her sweats and panties, helping push them off and toss them to the floor. She leaned forward to kiss his chest, his stomach, and down his navel. His breathing grew harsh, and he lifted up, grinding his covered cock against her.

She helped him take off his pajama bottoms, and kick them off the bed. He wore no underwear. His cock sprang free, hard and ready, and he stroked himself, a roguish gleam in his eyes as he looked at her.

“Touch yourself, Lark. Please. For me. Spread your gorgeous pussy and let me see you.”

She wasn’t an exhibitionist by any stretch. If anything, she still had severe body issues she’d carry forever. But something about the weight of his stare, the way he asked, prompted her to put a hand to her pussy. She used her middle finger to coax her clit. She moved toward him, rubbing her wet pussy against his sac, her mouth open at the roughness against her. She gathered her moisture and spread it over him.

He inhaled unsteadily and joined her hand as he stroked her wetness, spreading it around his cock and breathing through his teeth as he worked himself with one hand, touching her with the other, his fingers smearing her clit even as she teased it.

“Oh, yes. Touch your clit. I want you so much, Lark. I look and you just—have no idea what you do to me. Please keep doing that. God, you’re so beautiful and brilliant, and you don’t even know.” He groaned and circled her entrance with two fingers. He slid them forward, filling her pussy. She lifted her hips and moaned. “I think of you every minute.” She moved her hips to the flow of his hand, her eyes closed and her head thrown back. “Every second.”

“I think of you too, Niall.”

“I’m serious. I never thought I’d find someone again,” he breathed, fucking her with his hand. She rolled her hips against him. “I love who you are, and when you’re spread out for me like this, so beautiful, all I want to do is fill you up with my hard cock, ram it into you until your hot, wet pussy shatters around me. I like knowing it’s me you come apart for. I like making love to you.” He curled his fingers inside her, and she cried out, palming her breasts and arching her back.

She was so turned on, it made her almost angry.

“Yes, love.” He slammed his fingers into her back wall, and she let out a primal grunt. “You’re so stunning. I like watching you burn like this.”

Lark clenched her inner walls around his fingers in response. She moved his hands, and unable to wait any longer, she slid forward, positioning his wet tip at her entrance, and she sank down on him, impaling herself to the brim. The depth of him inside consumed her. It bordered on pain but was on the best side of pleasure. They both breathed in, and he fell back with his eyes shut, caressing her hips, threading his fingers through hers. He raised his ass, lifting her, and she swayed.

“You feel so good inside me,” she gasped, savoring the sensation. She raised up and slid back down, a spirited cry escaping her lips. He bucked beneath her, hands gripping her thighs harder each time. It amazed her he filled her so completely, to the point where she didn’t know where either of them ended or began.

She held a hand over his as he cupped and kneaded her tender breasts, offering words of encouragement, words of love the faster her pace became. Her thighs were on fire, but the cataclysm of ecstasy and heady power drove her on, flowing into her like an ocean current as she rode his hard, wet cock. He enticed her clit with his thumb when she tensed up. He took control and sat forward, clutching her to him. He thrust up with a demented fervency, his cock pushing farther into her, his fingers abandoning her breast to grab her ass. His thighs smacked into hers with each impact, and she bounced with rapture as he thrust harder. She couldn’t speak. His other hand traveled from her clit to cup her breast. She put her hand over his, rubbing the hard ridges of his knuckles, which shouldn’t have seemed sexy but were the sexiest knuckles ever. “Ahh…”

“Yes. Come on, Lark! Fall apart. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Delicious spasms shot through her pussy. A wicked pressure built inside her, contracting the muscles of her pelvis. He drove her with the honest intensity of his love and moved his hand to torture her clit with his thumb again. Instead of calling out when she came, Lark exhaled into his ear, a gentle whisper, like she was telling him her deepest secret. He groaned as her wetness gushed forth, bathing them both in the essence of their love. She wrapped her body around him, her inner walls clenching around his cock, milking it. He came, whispering her name like a prayer.

They sat tangled in each other, trembling. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her tenderly, pushing the damp hair away from her face. He put his forehead to hers as she fought to catch her breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for tonight, for opening your heart to me. I’ll always cherish it. Always.”

****

For surviving on about two to three hours of sleep, Lark felt pretty damn good, all things considered, without even having had any coffee yet to give her a boost. She’d donned the sundress Niall liked. He was upstairs getting ready in her bathroom as she wandered through the house, clearheaded and pleased.

The cogs in her brain had kicked in, but she was still too gratified from the night before to consider engaging any kind of guilt. Niall had given her the greatest sex of her life in the space of mere hours, and she didn’t know what to do with that, or how to hold on to something as raw and beautiful as his love.

She entered the kitchen. A few large pots and pans commanded attention, sticking out of the sink as they were from the previous night. Her mother stayed on a roll when it came to having everything tidy, but the last several weeks must have overloaded her.

In a gracious mood, she donned the yellow rubber gloves draped over the edge of the sink. With the dishwasher full of clean dishes that still needed putting away, she squirted lemon-scented dishwashing liquid into the stainless-steel basin and filled it with warm water from the faucet.

She dampened a blue-and-green sponge and scoured a deep pan, smiling and humming beneath her breath. Niall was a cuddler. Waking up lying on his chest, in the warmth of his arms, had been like taking a soothing, hot bath after a long day.

The back door opened, and Pam came in. She paused to unlace and remove her dirty sneakers. “It’s getting cold out there.” She grabbed a tissue from the box on the kitchen counter and blew her nose. “I’ll have to use the treadmill soon. You may want to change into something warmer if you’re going out. Oh, you’re doing the dishes? Thanks, hon, it saves me time.”

Lark glanced over her shoulder. “It’s the least I can do.”

If her mother noticed a difference in her, she hid it tactfully. She gave Lark a small hug from behind. “I’m glad you’ve decided to stay longer.” Pam put her hands on the back of Lark’s shoulders, and she leaned into the backward hug. “I didn’t like leaving things the way we did last night.”

“Neither did I. I love you, Mom. I’m sorry I’ve been so hardheaded.”

“We both have. Why don’t we pitch the white flags and call it square?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You take after me in so many ways.” Pam touched Lark’s hair. “Thanks for cleaning up. I’m going to go take a shower. I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Okay.”

Pam’s footsteps retreated on the stairs and then, a few minutes later, large, strong hands slid around the curves of her waist. She’d smelled his earthy aftershave when he entered the kitchen. Since the first time she met him, she sensed when he was in a room with her.

Niall set his cell phone on the counter and drew close behind her as she placed the pan she’d scrubbed into the drying rack. He traced his fingers down her left arm, humming against her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying being held close.

“I want to take you out.”

She smiled. “They have hit men for that, you know.”

He laughed low and rubbed the tip of his nose against the back of her loose hair. “I do my own dirty work. Hit men are overrated.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Cute, though. Where’s your mam?”

“In the shower. Do you want breakfast?”

“A kiss’ll do,” he said, trying to turn her to face to him.

She giggled, resisting. She had dragon breath. “You don’t want to kiss me right now. Trust me. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” She dodged him when he tried again, turning her head. Niall reached over her and shut off the faucet. He turned her around and put his hand on the side of her neck.

“No, don’t. Morning breath is hot.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“It is. I’ll show you how much.”

He smirked and unbuttoned the front of her dress. He hit the fourth button, and it slid from her shoulders onto the floor with a gentle whisper. Lark took off the dishwashing gloves and tried to pick up the dress, but he grasped her hips, turned around with her, and walked her backward to the kitchen table.

“What are you, like, a button ninja? Niall, my mom’s upstairs taking a shower.”

He wasn’t listening. His twinkling eyes focused on her lace bra and panties. He loosened his tie and yanked it off over his head, then swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor.

“Well, we best be quick about it, then,” he murmured.

He moved forward without preamble to cup her pussy as he kissed her, his tongue attacking her mouth, waking it with the shock of spearmint flavor. His fingers moved against the thin fabric of her panties, massaging her clit, and she flushed with embarrassment. Her panties were already damp. She couldn’t believe he wanted to do this here with her mother upstairs. Her ears burned as he thumbed her clit and stepped in to assault her neck with his lips, and she wrapped her arms around him, despite herself, laughing nervously.

“You’re insatiable. You know that, right? Don’t you at least want to get breakfast? Mmm?” He took her earlobe in his mouth, pressing against her. Lark held on to his arms for leverage, dizzy with pleasure.

“Sod breakfast,” he mumbled into her neck, undoing his trousers and yanking them down along with his boxers. They pooled above his shoes. “You’re my breakfast.” His cock jutted out, ready for action. He lifted her onto the table with whip-smooth speed, then parted her legs with eager fervor. He moved the barrier of her panties to the side and drove into her in one solid, quick stroke, his eyes on hers.

A rough breath escaped her, and she closed her eyes, putting her arms around his shoulders as he moved inside her, thrusting his tongue into her willing mouth in the same sensuous manner that he took her. His pace slowed and then grew determined, and Lark braced her hands against the wobbling table as he built a delicious, burning friction between them, his sac smacking the flesh of her ass as he sank deep into her tender, craving flesh.

“I love being a part of you. Watch, Lark. Look at what I’m doing to you. Look.”

Lark leaned back, watching as his long, wet shaft pulled out of her soaked pussy lips, coated with her juices, and then plunged back in, jostling the table and disappearing to the hilt inside her as his crisp black hairs blended with hers. She gulped, shaking from the impact and powerful sight of it.

“Watch,” he breathed again.

She did and gasped when he pulled out and stroked them both where they were joined with his fingers, before thrusting back into her. He slowed down, taking her hand and entwining their fingers and kissing her palm, sucking on the tip of her finger as his hips rotated into hers, slow and intoxicating.

“This is us, right now,” he whispered, his eyes on hers. “You’re mine.” He sped up, letting go of their fingers, grabbing her hips and pummeling her hard. “Mine!”

“Yes.” She was his, heart and body and soul. She threw her head back, unable to articulate anything but gasps of air and grunts as he fucked her into the table.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he breathed, kissing her with a slow drag of lips.

He drove in deep, clutching the back of her thigh, and Lark cried out against his mouth as she came. She soared into the sky like a bird, her body free of inhibition and full of life. He didn’t slow, though. He continued to take her, his hips freezing when his seed spurted into her. She clenched her thighs around him and milked him with her throbbing pussy, wanting every last drop inside her.

The tendons in his neck stretched when he threw his head back as he poured into her, his broad shoulders and chest glistening with sweat. Aware of him all the way to her womb, Lark lay back as he slid out, dazed and spent as he stood there, breathing harshly, like a man who’d just conquered a mountain.

He helped her sit up and slide off the table, kissing her hand.

“Sorry to attack, but I told you, you’re like a drug. I can’t stop touching you.” He wiped his glistening forehead with his forearm.

She smiled, something she hadn’t been able to stop doing since last night. “I’m not complaining. At all. But we should get dressed.”

He nodded, gathering their clothes. They dressed in cheerful silence, and Lark cleared her throat as she straightened her dress. “Now, Mr. O’Hagan, if you’d be so kind as to grab the Clorox wipes under the sink and clean the table, I’ll get you something to eat.” He did as told, slapping her ass in passing as she put a few on-the-go pastries in the toaster. She loved how he got her; they moved in tandem.

“Clean as a whistle,” he murmured a few minutes later, putting his arms around her from behind as she finished making them both plates. “Last night was amazing. You were amazing.”

Lark leaned back in his arms, pleased. “Thank you. I do have me moments,” she teased, with a surprisingly decent imitation of Niall’s Irish brogue.

He kissed the top of her head while he rubbed her arms. “I have to go, unfortunately, but I’ll be back later on tonight, around six or so. I’d like to take you out on a proper date if that’s all right.”

She nodded. “I’d like that.”

His cell phone went off and danced along the kitchen counter. Niall parted her hair and kissed her once on the back of her neck, then checked his phone. “Work. I’ve got to take this. Thanks for, erm, breakfast. I’ll eat on the way there,” he said as he scooped the cooled toaster pastries off his plate. “See you tonight. We can talk about everything then.”

“Sounds good,” she said as he backed off, answering his phone with his free hand, his eyes trained on hers.

****

Her mother wasn’t an idiot. Of course she knew something was going on. She sprayed air freshener in the kitchen when she came down, then carried on her usual morning routine and didn’t saying anything about the matter. Niall had left the final drawn-up probate paperwork on the counter, ready for signatures, but Lark moved it out of the way during lunch and avoided discussing it.

She reveled in the peaceful, happy state he’d left her in. It lasted for a few hours. But being without Niall after last night was torture. His scent and seed, the feel of him on her, in her, still lingered after her shower and as she went about her day. She kept her phone off and set it on her nightstand to avoid the elephant in the room. In the late afternoon, wanting to text him, Lark turned her cell phone back on. Her stomach sank as several icons popped up for missed calls and texts from Charles, the most recent being two hours ago. The subject line said: Read this NOW.

She had taken no action to get another plane ticket, but they expected her back to work next Thursday. She sighed. Soon she would have to either rebook her ticket or forfeit its cost. Everything had happened so fast. She held off checking Charles’s messages until tomorrow. It was avoiding the unavoidable, yes, but she didn’t want to disturb the magic between her and Niall.

It clouded and rained all day, and she stayed in the living room, napping on and off, curled on the couch with a soft, cream-colored fleece blanket. When she wasn’t dozing, she perused the book Niall had read last night, which turned out to be her favorite play by Ibsen, A Doll’s House.

Pam seemed extrasensitive to whatever she suspected was happening, and she let Lark have breathing room, which she appreciated. Her mom had always been emotionally intelligent. Pam popped her head into the living room around four.

“Hey, hon. I thought I’d let you know. I’m going to go out to dinner tonight with my friend Sue. She’s been concerned about me, and I want the word spread that I haven’t become a complete recluse, and am okay. Sue’s a damn gossip, and I trust her to blab about it. I’ll be home pretty late, so you and Niall have the house to yourselves.” Before Lark managed to deny anything, Pam smiled and left her in peace.

Her mother hadn’t been gone long when Niall came to pick her up after six. It rained cats and dogs outside. Lark met him at the front door, ready to go in a warm jacket she’d borrowed from her mother. They were both dressed in casual jeans and tops.

Before he uttered a word, she put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. He supported her back and drew her to him. Satisfying chills shot up her spine.

“Now, that’s what I call a nice welcome home.” He splayed his hands over her back and drew her close. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.”

His eyes were bright gems, and warmth spread through her body as he put his hand to her cheek. She wanted to bottle the warmth and keep it forever. A rumble of thunder sounded, and the pitter-patter of the rain changed to a torrential downpour, hard and bulletlike drops that sounded more like hail as they pounded on the porch awning. They both turned and looked out on the balcony, where it rained hard.

“Crazy,” she murmured. “Do you want to wait before we go, and kill fifteen minutes or so?”

Niall nodded. “Sure. The Explorer almost got stuck in the mud on the dirt stretch out from the highway.” His phone went off, and he pulled it from his jacket as Lark closed the door. He answered it, mouthing Jake from the office to her as he took it, walking through the hallway as he spoke.

Lark took off her jacket and followed him into the library. He’d stopped by the bookshelves, his back turned when she entered.

“Well, thank you for all you’ve done,” he said into the phone. “I’m glad we were able to get this taken care of. Aye, I’ll be there to drop the papers off tomorrow after they sign them. Uh-huh.”

He looked over his shoulder, and Lark gave him a flirty little wave as she poured a glass of white wine at the minibar. She licked her lips slowly, teasing him, and he prowled toward her with the phone still to his ear and a look which spelled trouble.

“Listen, Jake, something’s come up which needs tending to, but I’ll be in touch and let you know how the signing goes. Yeah.”

She took a slow sip of wine as Jake’s garbled voice from the other end echoed a bit. Niall ended the call and threw the phone on the couch, hauling her to him with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he set the stemmed glass down and walked her over to the bookshelves.

“Well now, aren’t you the naughty one,” he murmured. “That deserves a reprimand, wouldn’t you say?”

A thrill of excitement surged through her. A second later, he’d pinned her against the bookshelf, and they kissed each other full-on. He seemed to enjoy the lingering sweetness of the wine on her tongue from the way he engulfed it with his own.

She slid off his leather jacket, moving it down his shirt, and her mouth watered at the outline of hard muscle beneath. Even after meeting him and knowing him for over a week, she couldn’t believe he was hers. She slid her arms around Niall’s torso, rubbing her hands up his warm back. He groaned and kicked between her feet, pinioning his thigh between her legs. The pressure at her apex set off a steady throb, and she hooked her right leg over his hip, rubbing against him as he engaged her tongue in a wicked duel. He grabbed her ass, clutching and kneading it as she ground against him.

If this gave any kind of glimpse into their future, she was all for it.

His cell phone went off again, but they were both too involved to move away, kissing each other with a fiery passion. If the way he devoured her served as any indication, last night had been a mere taste. He curved his hand around the side of her slim waist, tracing his fingers over her blouse. The cell phone went off again, and Lark broke her lips free, delirious.

“Are you going to get that?” She breathed as his fingers explored her left breast, a tingling, tantalizing caress. His touch surrendered and commandeered at once, and she loved being able to give control to him but still be empowered.

He held and kissed her palm, attending to each finger with full, hungry lips. “I’m busy,” he muttered.

She sucked in her breath as she held the back of his neck and closed her eyes. Tingly endorphins raced through her.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

She touched his jaw, where the stubble lent a hint of danger to his striking features. “Neither have I. Last night was—”

Niall shut his eyes and nodded. “It was. It’s safe to say you’ve got me where you want me, Shakespeare. I’ve no words for what being with you does to me.”

He unbuttoned her jeans and kissed her earlobe, then tugged on it, whispering poetry to her of her gracefulness, muttering in his melodic Irish of the crook of her arm, the camber of her neck, her softness and strength, the loveliness of her spirit.

He made her come alive in a way she never had before, and she wanted him again. “Niall,” she pleaded as he teased her, nibbling her earlobe and kissing her neck in turns.

“What have you done to me,” he murmured, falling to his knees. “It’s like I’m spellbound. I swear, I’ll do anything you ask. Anything you want.”

He tugged at her waist; her jeans pooled at her ankles, and his hands slowly slid her panties to her thighs. He kissed her mound with devotion and slid his fingers between her wet folds. She sighed, opening her thighs to him like a flower to the sun. He licked her clit, caressing every inch of flesh his hands came into contact with.

Lark leaned her head back at the pressure of his mouth, drunk on sensation. “Make love to me.”

“Yes. A thousand times over.”

He lightly suckled her clit. She wound her fingers into his curls as his fingers slid into her pussy, soaking in and spreading her wetness all over her hypersensitive, glistening folds. He took his time, caressing her backside as he sought out her most responsive places. His tongue stroked her like velvet, coaxing her toward him, his long, slow sweeps evocative and lovely.

“Niall, that feels so nice. So good,” she breathed.

He hummed against her, and then he stood, his mouth claiming hers. His tongue slid against hers, unhurried and searching, and she tasted herself on him. She worked his belt, unbuckling it and undoing his button and zipper. She needed to feel him again. She slid her hands beneath the hem of his T-shirt, putting her arms around his solid torso to draw him closer as he touched her. His hand travelled down, and he reentered her with two fingers, whispering in Irish Gaelic between impassioned kisses.

“I’m going to take you,” he murmured, pumping his fingers in and out of her pussy as he thumbed her clit. “And I’m going to do it right here. Put your legs around me, Lark.” He tugged his jeans and boxers down with his free hand. She lifted her other leg, he withdrew his fingers from her, lifting her ass to meet him at his full height. The tip of his steel-hard cock pressed through the wet folds of her sensitive flesh, and he drove forward, pushing her into the bookshelf as he filled her. She tilted her head back and shut her eyes.

“No. Look at me,” he breathed, driving forward until he came flush against her.

She did, and he was less than an inch from her face, his eyes like green flames. He flushed red from their exertion, and his fingers gripped her bottom. He pinned her there and didn’t move. “Tell me we weren’t made for each other.” He pulled out to the tip and slammed back into her hard, jostling the books behind her. Lark cried out and clutched his shoulders.

“Niall!”

“Tell me you don’t think this is meant to be, right now,” he demanded, repeating his actions. Lark kissed him, wanted to suck his tongue, but he moved his head back. “Say it.” He reared back and slammed into her again. It was too much, and yet never enough.

“We’re destined,” he urged.

She sucked in her breath, held there by his weight and filled to the brim with his long cock.

“I…yes.” He sped up his actions, cushioning the brunt of the shelves by shielding her with the backs of his hands.

“Say it,” he rasped, fucking her hard into the bookshelf.

Lark gasped as his frantic thrusting grew erratic. She pushed her heels against his thighs. “We—ah…”

He slowed, punishing her with long, slow thrusts that threatened to make her come apart. He put his lips against her ear. “Tell me we belong together like you know we do,” he whispered, working his hips in and out of her. “Those dreams weren’t for nothing. Tell me, Lark.”

“We do,” she whispered as he circled his hips and slowly took her. “We belong together.”

He kissed her longingly and moved her away from the bookshelf, carrying her to the couch. The love in his eyes, the rapture on his face, overwhelmed her. How, in the space of a couple of weeks, had this man come to love her so much? To adore her as he did? It was like receiving a magnificent Christmas present and not knowing how to thank someone. She touched his lips as he lay her down on the couch and crawled over her.

The rain pounded on the roof, the tinkling music of it echoing throughout the house. Niall caressed her hair, his eyes gentle.

“Lark, I want to bury myself in you and never resurface.”

“Come into me.” She opened her legs to him with unreserved trust. He reentered her in one swift move, sinking his cock deep into the cradle of her hips. She wrapped her legs around him, wanting to cry at the tenderness and vulnerability in his eyes. He’d lost so much, and, it seemed, loved so deeply. He moved within her, slow and thorough, and she raised her hips to meet his.

“I love you. Oh God, I love you.”

Lark shivered at the rough emotion in his voice. Saying it had cost him something, and she wound her arms around his neck, bringing him close, bucking her hips in response to show him she was grateful for such a precious gift, even if her lips weren’t ready to reciprocate yet.

Thorough and deliberate, he pulled back only to surge into her again, nourishing her hungry heart with the food of love. Blood rushed to her core, and she needed what he could give her. “Niall.” She lifted her hips. “More. Faster. Please.”

“Soon, Lark. Soon.”

He put a hand to her hip and then quickened his pace, growling and screwing her into the couch. She couldn’t speak beyond cut-off, unintelligible words and throaty cries as he pounded her. She hooked her legs at the ankles over his back, moving in time to the plink plink of the rain on the roof as he relentlessly took her. The couch moved with each thrust.

“I’m not letting you go, Lark,” he said against her ear, and his fingers moved between their bodies, finding her clit. She surrendered to his touch, arching into his body and throwing her head back against the throw pillow, baring her neck.

His lips adored her bare throat, and he sucked the skin there as they both came, his seed exquisitely warming her insides.

Niall collapsed against her, and she caressed the muscles of his back. She carded her fingers through his hair as he breathed against her neck and kept a heavy hand on her hip. The beat of his heart thumped above her rib cage, his face against her breast. He propped his elbow up and leaned his head on his hand as he drank her in.

“You need a poem. An ode.”

Her breathing back to normal, she smiled. “There once was a girl named Lark, who had so much grapefruit, she let out a fart.”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t quite work, does it? Let’s try something else. Your hair is like burnished copper, so soft I could fall into it at night.”

Lark turned her head to the side as her face burned. He smiled gently when she looked back at him, but the intensity in his eyes meant business, and she stirred again. How the hell was that even possible? Did he drug her?

“Your eyes remind me of delicious chocolate—smooth, heavenly, delectable.” He drew his finger down her face. “Melting.”

“Oh please.” She giggled.

He rocked his hips into her, a warning, and a pleasant hot spurt warmed her insides. “Mmm.”

He kissed her cheek, his lips lingering. “Your cheeks are beautiful, lofty pillars that bloom like fragrant, dusky roses.”

She grinned. “This is good stuff, Niall. Don’t stop.”

He interlaced his fingers with hers and traced her palm lightly with his thumb. “I don’t intend to anytime soon. Your hands are soft conduits by which I can read and navigate your deepest emotions, hidden like a sunken, buried treasure.”

Her breath came quicker. He glided his hand over her left breast, his thumb caressing her soft nipple, then past the curve of her waist to her leg, where he reached between where they were joined to stroke her inner thigh as his eyes devoured hers. Tingles shot through her pussy.

“Your legs are sylphlike guardians of your most coveted sanctuary, tightening and writhing against mine in a tempestuous dance for passage when we mate.”

She opened her mouth, her breath coming out labored as her breasts rose and fell beneath him, her tightening nipples grazing his own. He hardened inside her, his cock stirring against her walls.

“Your mouth is a stocked vessel of compassion and kindness, yet capable of wielding words sharper than any sword.” He paused, and chuckled. “And that’s all I’ve got for now.”

“Thank you. That was wonderful,” she admitted, smiling like a lunatic. “I don’t think anyone’s given me an ode before.”

“Anything with you is wonderful,” he purred, kissing her. She pulled him in and embraced him. His cock relaxed within her. She sighed contentedly. They needed a break.

“Why don’t we go out soon, though, hmm?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “It can’t spit like this forever. Let’s wait for it to lighten up, and then we’ll go. I could easily stay like this, but I want a proper date with you. I want to treat you like you deserve.”

Lark smiled, serene. “You just did, Niall. Let’s get cleaned up, and we can head out.”

He withdrew slowly, his semen rolling deliciously down her pussy. He watched it a moment, smiling, and lifted himself. He kissed her again and grabbed a box of tissues. He helped her clean up as she lay there. He touched her tenderly as he wiped her with the tissue, and she loved how he seemed to know when to be soft, and when to be rough. After they cleaned up, they got dressed, touching each other with little strokes and random nuzzling. She had no idea sex could be so intimate, so exceptional. She’d never known the emotional aspect to it, and it made for an entirely different experience, especially because it was Niall. Lark finished her glass of wine, then followed Niall as he opened the front door to check on the rain. He took her hand as he leaned his forearm on the doorjamb. “All right, come on, you old storm. Get a move on so Lark ‘n I can hit the road.”

“Let me go use the bathroom. Maybe it will let up, and then we can go.” She slipped her hand out of his and handed him the house keys so she wouldn’t forget them in the bathroom. She kissed him. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded, smiling warmly at her.

After using the toilet, she looked in the mirror. Her reflection sported a huge, goofy grin, her skin flushed from their exertions. She studied her eyes. They’d never caught the light so much before. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said out loud, “but I don’t ever want it to stop.” Tears of joy sprang to her eyes, and she blinked them away, smiling at herself. Shrugging and taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked—twitterpated—down the hall toward the front door.

Niall was nowhere in sight, and the door was closed. She walked into the library. He might have gone back inside as it still rained outside. Huh. Vacant. She checked the kitchen and the stairs; still dark. A loud crash reverberated throughout the house, and she jumped, shaking. It came from the front. She turned and walked toward the visiting room and the front door. Another crash sounded as she turned into the room. She found the front window smashed in, Niall in a chokehold, and Charles standing above him.

“Charles,” she gasped. She rushed forward. “Get off him! What are you doing?” Charles lifted his head, distracted, and Niall took the opportunity to punch him in the face. Charles retreated, and Niall got up, moving away from the bashed-in window to the porch. Lark ran over, careful not to step on the glass, and stuck her head out the window. The porch light was on via the automatic timer. “Stop it,” she screamed, watching in horror as Charles swung an uppercut with his large, muscular fist, and sunk it into Niall’s stomach. It knocked the wind out of him, and he doubled over as his face went a frightening purplish-blue.

“Niall,” she shouted. She ripped the front door open.

Niall regained his feet, gulping, and pointed at her. “Close the door. Stay in there—” He went silent as Charles’s shoes kicked him hard in the ribs. He curled into a defensive ball on the porch floor.

“That’s right. Stay…there,” Charles bellowed, and with each word he kicked Niall, who cried out in pain from the strong blows, shielding his head with his hands. “Watch me kick the shite out of him. You can have ringside seats, you lying bitch!”

Niall howled on the fourth blow, and Lark couldn’t watch anymore. Roaring, she hurried onto the porch and grabbed Charles from behind by the waist, tugging him as hard as possible away from Niall. “Charles, stop it,” she begged. “You’ll kill him.”

Charles stopped, turning incredulously to her. He had a black eye, and his lip bled. His eyes were wide and excited, and darkness possessed his smile. “Oh, this is good. What—now you’re standing up for your lover?” He sneered with a strangled sort of voice. “Tell me, did you wait until I’d gone, or did you bang each other while I was still around?”

Standing in front of the curled-up figure of Niall on the floor, Lark tried to get Charles away from him and did her best to appeal to him. “Let’s talk about this, okay? We don’t have to hurt anyone. Let’s try to deal with this without—”

In one swift movement, from the corner of her eye, Niall lifted both his feet high in the air while Charles was distracted, and he kicked hard on the front of Charles’s shins.

Charles screamed in pain and almost fell headfirst down the stairs, but he caught himself on his hands on the top of the porch, wincing in agony.

Lark wasted no time in crouching down, helping Niall to stand.

His attention focused with a concentrated frown on Charles, who lay prone on the porch floor as he held a hand to his ribs. Lark brushed the tears from her cheeks and held the crook of his arm as he regained his footing.

“Niall, are you okay?” He pushed her down onto the porch swing with a surprising amount of force. She fell against the pillows, grateful they were there to cushion her.

“Stay there no matter what happens. I don’t want you hurt.” He pointed at her in a contained way, then staggered to Charles.

While the latter struggled to get up, Niall scoffed at him with disgust, as one might consider a pile of animal droppings on the road. Wincing with pain, he sat on Charles and put his full weight on him, straddling his back and pinning him to the porch floor while rain pounded their heads.

Charles remained still and then rolled over, catching Niall off guard. He got to his knees and punched Niall hard in the face.

Lark shouted Niall’s name again, wanting to jump on Charles and wring his neck. She made a move to get up, but then reality dawned as she watched them struggle. They were two full-grown, angry men fighting with each other, and she was significantly smaller, with no experience in fighting, despite how riled up she was. She searched around for something to use as a weapon if she needed to.

Charles turned his head toward her, and Niall surprised them both by bringing his fist up, landing a blow in Charles’s undamaged eye. Charles howled, standing and covering his eye with his hand, staggering backward.

“Lark, stay there,” Niall told her firmly. Bright headlights beamed through the porch railing, the rain pouring in front of a taxi cab.

Charles swung his fist out as Niall struggled to stand, and his blow found its mark as Niall tried to steady himself. He moved in time to miss it, leaning to the side, still favoring the right side of his ribs. He grabbed Charles’s other hand, and in the blink of an eye, he pressed Charles’s knuckles down toward his wrist and pushed it into him. Charles cried out, crumbling to his knees as Niall grunted and winced. He brought Charles’s arm behind his back and moved around him.

“Charles,” he said with restraint. His face contorted with pain. He winced but didn’t let go. “It’s over. You are going to leave now, and you’re not coming back here.” He held Charles down, and Lark watched, amazed at his steady tone of voice despite the pain he must be in.

“I’m going to tear you apart, you son of a bitch,” Charles yelled through gritted teeth. Blood trickled down the side of his mouth as Niall held him there.

Lark had never seen Charles so angry, so violent. Ice-cold prickles of fear and guilt seeped through her. Was this her fault? Could she have done anything differently in handling the breakup with Charles to prevent this? She couldn’t, but it had only been twenty minutes ago she’d been on fire from Niall’s touch, and now here he was, fighting for her.

“That’s not going to happen.”

Niall sounded as calm as he could, and Lark marveled at his restraint. His head bowed as he held Charles there despite his struggles, but Niall’s face twisted as he fought to control his pain. Charles continued to wriggle to get free, but Niall pressed against Charles’s pressure points in his hand, causing Charles to howl.

“Let me go. Right now, you bastard.”

Niall was quiet, though a muscle in his jaw ticked. “I won’t until I know you’ve calmed down.” Charles struggled, and then exhaled when he couldn’t move.

“Should I call the police?” Lark asked, standing. They both seemed injured.

“No,” Charles sneered at her. “The last thing UY needs is my face on the news. Let me go, O’Hagan. I’m calm. I’m calm.”

Niall searched her eyes, then focused on the man in his charge. She crossed her arms and rubbed her dry throat.

“It’s not your company’s reputation I’m concerned with, mate,” Niall grunted. “And I hate to point out the obvious, but you’re the one on the ground here, not me. I want your word you won’t harm her. You’ll leave here, and never come back.”

“I would never hurt Lark, and she knows it,” Charles snarled. He tried to look at Lark from his kneeling position, but Niall had him locked up tight. “Lark, tell this bastard to let me go.”

She glanced away, not wanting to.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” shouted the cab driver, poking his head out the window. “Mister, do you want me to call the cops?” he directed at Charles.

“Niall,” she urged. “For heaven’s sake, please.”

Niall raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded, knowing Charles would not do anything else to put his work reputation at risk. Niall let Charles’s arm go and moved in front of Lark, safeguarding her like a German shepherd.

Charles stood to his full height, rubbing his arm and wrist. He sneered vindictively at them both from a few feet away.

“The hell with this, and the hell with you,” he said to Lark. “And you.” He pointed at Niall. “This isn’t over.” Charles burned his hate-filled glare into her, and she took a step behind Niall, closer to his back. Niall stood his ground, taking her hand from behind, his eyes fixed on Charles, who limped as he made his way to the cab.

“Airport,” he barked before he slammed the door.

As the cab drove off, Lark stepped closer behind Niall and put her hands on his shoulders, laying her cheek against his back and closing her eyes. He placed a hand over hers, and he let out a low breath, his body sagged with fatigue.

“Niall, are you all right?” He turned around to face her. His right temple sported a large red mark which would leave a bruise.

“Aye. Can’t say I’ve had worse, but I’ll survive. You?”

Lark nodded. “Let’s go inside.” She stopped to collect his wallet and her mother’s keys from where they’d fallen on the porch, pretending not to notice the droplets of blood by the window. Whether Charles’s or Niall’s, she didn’t know.

They went in and locked the door. Rain dripped into the living room from the broken window. She focused first on rendering first aid and spent a good deal of time in the kitchen cleaning him and tending to his bruises. She’d helped him slowly peel off his damp shirt, and nasty, black-and-blue marks bloomed where Charles had kicked him. She cringed.

“Oh, Niall. Your ribs might be broken. He’s so horrible. I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she pressed an ice pack to his forehead. The meager things she did were not helping, as much as she wanted to heal him. She had no knowledge of first aid beyond the basics. Her mother, on the other hand, a seasoned homeopathic expert, would know exactly what to do.

“You need to go to the emergency room.”

“I’ll wait a few hours to see if I get any better. I can breathe fine. These rib bruises might be superficial.”

Lark preferred he go to the ER rather than wait. The fight scared her and shook her to the core. She changed the subject.

“I didn’t know you knew self-defense.” After cleaning and disinfecting the cut on his arm where he’d encountered the glass, she applied a dollop of aloe vera gel. Thank God her mom had a whole pot full of the stuff.

“I don’t. It’s pressure points. Before I left for college, my brother Frank was goin’ through the Police Academy, and he used me as his practice dummy when he came home on the weekends. He beat me up so he could pass his classes, and in exchange, I learned stuff. Guess it’s stuck with me. I’ll have to tell him.”

“Well, it showed.”

Niall took her hand with concern. She stopped treating him and met his gaze. “Lark, why don’t we go patch up the window and then light a fire and sit for a bit, hmm? I’ll pay to have it replaced tomorrow.”

She complied, searching the garage for plastic sheeting and duct tape. She did most of it herself, as he had a hard time moving, but there seemed to be enough to seal the windowpane and keep the cold air and rain out. How she planned to explain to Pam what had happened, she didn’t know.

Done, she changed into tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt. She searched Aaron’s room and brought back a pair of her brother’s old sweats for Niall. She returned to the kitchen to get him and then supported him as they walked into the living room.

“Here,” she said, kneeling before him. “I’ve got a towel. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes and dry you off.” Careful of his ribs, she helped Niall step into the sweatpants, but he resisted peeling off his shirt. He winced.

“Leave it for now.”

“Okay.” She wrapped the towel around his shoulders to help sop up his T-shirt and helped him sit on the sofa, then threw a lit match onto the logs in the hearth. Leave it to her mom to have the fire ready to go. The cream-colored fleece throw she’d used earlier still lay across the top of the couch. Niall gingerly pulled it down, mindful of his ribs, and spread it out. Lark handed him two Excedrin and a glass of water she’d poured in the bathroom. “Here. Take these.” He swallowed the pills, then turned sideways. She frowned and folded her arms. “Niall, you shouldn’t be sitting here. We need to take you to get checked out.”

He sighed and held out his hand. “Come sit with me. Let’s stay here a little longer and cool down, okay? I’ll see if the pain subsides. If it doesn’t, there’s an InstaCare close to my office, about an hour from here. If I do have to go, I want to wait till the roads clear, or I can go first thing in the morning. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, that’s stupid. Let me drive you, and we can go right now,” she insisted, reaching for the keys to his SUV he’d left on the end table next to the couch.

“Lark,” he chided, putting his hand on hers and taking the keys back. “It’s late, and these may be surface bruises.”

“But they may not. Niall, you need to get checked out.”

He sighed. “Listen up, milady, I’m breathin’ fine right now, so long as I don’t move around too much, and nothing feels too out of place. This isn’t the first fight I’ve ever had, after all. I had about a hundred of ’em growing up with my brothers, though they never kicked me when I was down. That plonker’s a nasty piece o’ work. Fights dirty. Also, I don’t want you to sit there in a crowded emergency room, worrying about me. You’re upset enough as it is.”

“I’m not upset, I’m angry. I can’t believe him,” Lark said. Tears stung her eyes. She paced, furious. Charles appalled her, kicking Niall like he was a rugby ball.

“Aye, but who won?” he offered, a hint of laughter in his emerald eyes.

She gave him an exasperated look.

“Please, don’t worry.”

Lark knelt and put her hand on top of his thigh, stroking it as she gazed at him, concerned.

“Mmm… Feels nice,” he said as he slid his hand around the back of her neck. “’Tis a shame I’m in no shape to take you, now that I’ve got you right where I want you. Let’s sit here a while and try to unwind, eh? Maybe watch a movie on Netflix? I wouldn’t be opposed to Rocky.”

Lark tried, but her nerves hopped in every which direction, and she struggled to keep her hands from fidgeting. Spotting her cell phone on the lamp table, she grabbed it and turned it on.

His breathing steadied beside her, and she went to her in-box, wishing she had checked her messages sooner. The most recent text message from Charles read: In the taxi on way to ranch. Y haven’t u answered v/m or texts? I’ll see u when I get there. 7ish. She deleted his other messages without reading them. He was gone now; that’s what mattered. Her phone rang as she finished deleting Charles’s messages, and she scrolled back to answer the call.

Niall shifted. “If it’s Charles, send him my love.”

“No,” she guffawed, reading the Caller ID. “It’s my mom.” Lark answered her phone and said hello. Ladies’ laughter and country music played in the background.

“Hi, hon, it’s me. I wanted to give you a head’s up that I’m staying out later with the girls than I planned. They’ve been so darling. We’re going to go play a board game at Sue’s, so I should be back pretty late.”

“Okay.”

“How are things there? Sounds quiet.”

Lark drew a breath, debating whether or not to tell her. “We’re on the couch.”

“Ohh,” said Pam, and Lark cringed as she mistook her meaning. “I’ll stay out later tonight, then. You two have fun.”

“Oh no, Mom, I didn’t mean— You don’t need to—”

“I insist,” Pam said. “Talk to you later.”

The line clicked, and Lark turned to Niall in disbelief. “What an entirely one-sided conversation. I’m sure she thinks we’re going at it like rabbits.”

Niall chuckled, holding a hand against his side with a wince. “Argh, if only it were true. I’d take some TLC over aches ‘n pains right now.” He took the cell phone from her hand and set it aside, massaging her palm. “You didn’t tell her about the window?”

“Nope.”

“I guess she’ll find out when she comes home.”

“Most likely. Niall?”

“Hmm?”

Lark blinked at their joined hands. “What—what’s going to happen to us now? I mean, I’m going to be going back to work soon. Charles and I are over, but with you in Oregon and me in England, how is this supposed to work, exactly?”

His thumb stroked her fingers, and he pushed hair away from her eyes. “We’re going to make it work. I’d never ask you to give up anything for me, Lark. I realize how fast this happened, but I want to be with you. I’ll move for you if it comes to it.”

She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t ask you to—”

“To what? Reinvent my life with an incredible woman somewhere fresh? I’d do it, you know, if you want me in your life.”

Lark bit her lip. “I have no idea what to say. This is so—”

“Crazy?” He kissed her. “Insane?”

Lark nodded, smiling as he tugged on her lower lip with his own.

“Amazing?” He kissed her again but then pulled back, wincing.

She frowned again. “Okay, no. Niall, you need to go to the hospital and get checked out. What if it’s something internal or a broken rib?”

“I’m still breathin’, aren’t I?” he wheezed. “Let’s hold off.”

Unsatisfied, Lark sank back against the couch cushion and held his hand, staring into the fire. “No. If you’re not better in the next hour, we’re going. I still can’t believe how he was. Charles, I mean.”

“Well, would you rather have found out after you married him?”

She shuddered and shook her head. They would have had such a messed-up marriage, him shagging anyone he wanted and treating her like a consolation prize. She’d dodged a major bullet, and she was glad to be done with it.

Niall stroked her palm. “You don’t think he’s coming back, do you?”

“No.” She sighed. “Trust me. He’s at the airport right now, demanding business class, hopping on the next flight home.”

Niall lifted his eyebrows. “Well, maybe he’ll broaden his mind at the airport with a few hundred drinks and grow a new personality. Good bleedin’ riddance.”

“You got that right.” Lark rested her head against Niall’s shoulder. “I love being with you.” Somewhere between the crackling of the fire and his fingers entwined with her own, she drifted off.