Brielle and tell her that I don’t know when I’ll be coming back but to not hold onto the couch for me.
I text Angie that everything is fine, even though I know she knows things aren’t. She can always tell, even through a text. Fine usually means not fine.
Because they aren’t, not really.
I’m beside myself with joy because I’m in love with Padraig and he loves me. But I don’t know what the future brings us. I don’t know how to get out of this mess that we’re in. When Colin dies, the sham will be over. But that will hurt his nan. And we’re obviously not going to get married, I can’t even think to call us a couple in real life.
So what do we do?
I need to talk to Padraig.
I at least need to be with him. I feel so cold and alone in this room, even though I can hear Nan snoring in the room next to me. These walls are not soundproof.
I get out of bed, put on my slippers and my robe that’s emblazoned with the owl logo of the Shambles B&B and slowly open my door and quietly head down the stairs.
I go to Padraig’s room and cautiously open his door, not wanting to wake anyone else in the house.
“Who’s there?” Padraig says sleepily and in the beam of faint light from the night light in the living room, I can see him, completely naked and trying to reach for his covers that are tangled in his legs.
Jeez. I came here just to sleep but that cock has me thinking other things.
“Sorry,” I whisper, quietly closing the door and plunging us back into darkness. “I couldn’t sleep. Can I sleep with you?”
“Oh, darlin’, like ye even have to ask,” he says, and I hear him shuffling in bed. “Come here.”
I carefully make my way across the dark room and slip under the covers, curling up beside him.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers to me as I lay my head in the crook of his arm. “I could use ye like this every night.”
I smile into him and put my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammering beneath my fingers. I slowly take my hand and trail it down over the ripples of his abs, over his flat stomach, and down, down, until I’m skimming over his cock.
He’s already hard. How about that.
He lets out a low moan, his back arching as I make a fist around his shaft, feeling the heat press into my skin. “I could definitely use ye like this every night.”
I grin, biting my lip, and start taking off my nightgown and underwear. It’s not fair he’s the only one naked.
He brings his body on top of mine, pressing his cock against my hip until I open my legs in anticipation. His fingers then slip between my thighs and start rubbing my clit in circles while his mouth dips down to my nipple to do the same.
“Yes,” I hiss, digging my nails into the muscles of his strong shoulders, wanting more of everything.
He takes his cock and starts rubbing it along my clit, up and down, making me drenched and open and wild for him.
Padraig is the king of blissful torture.
“I want you inside me,” I say through a groan as he flicks my nipple with his tongue. He keeps on licking, sucking it in between his lips, sending sparks of electricity through my body, out into every limb, while his cock continues to tease me.
“Padraig,” I pant. “Come inside me.”
He ignores that and continues to rub at me but the pressure gets less and less.
He lets out a grunt of frustration, like he’s getting annoyed, which takes me by surprise. I reach down for his cock to guide him in but he keeps it away from me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, wishing I could see his face.
“Nothing, nothing, just …” he says, his voice breaking. “Leave me alone.”
Leave me alone?
I blink. “Okay.”
“Just give me a minute.”
Oh.
Oh.
I see.
“Sure,” I say lightly.
He leans back off me and I hear him start jacking himself off, the soft sound of his skin against skin. Another frustrated grunt escapes his lips.
“Fuck!” he cries out and the sound fills the room.
I’m momentarily frozen.
“Padraig,” I hiss at him. “You’re going to wake everyone.”
“Fuck, just FUCK,” he says again, not hearing me or not caring. “Fuck this!”
He gets off of me completely and sits on the edge of the bed.