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“Let me make it up to you then,” he said. Flipping me over before I could even blink, his hands were already pulling my jeans off with ease.


Using his teeth, he pulled at my underwear slowly until they were around my ankles then began kissing his way up.


“Liam…” I bit back a moan when his finger found itself inside me.


“Yes, love?” he said innocently, only stopping his lips to watch me while I moaned under him.


He moved in and out of me slowly…painfully slow, snickering as I rocked against his fingers and tried to force him to move faster.


“Liam…” He kissed me hard, nibbling on my lips while fucking me with his fingers.


“You pissed me off as well. But you’re making up for it.” He stopped momentarily. “I like seeing you squirm under me.”


“Hmmmm…” I moaned again as his fingers went faster, causing me to clench around them.


“All of this because of three fingers, baby?” He laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing. “I wonder how loudly my tongue will make you scream.”


“Liam, just…” He didn’t give me the chance to speak. Pulling his fingers from me, he spread my legs wide before attacking my pussy.


“Oh my God!” I moaned, as I wrapped my legs around his head and reached down to grab hold of his hair.


His tongue…Jesus fucking Christ his tongue. Holding on to my waist, his tongue went deeper inside of me, shaking me to my core as I thrust against his mouth. I couldn’t control myself. I wanted to ride his tongue. I wanted more of him.


“Liam…Fuck…” I screamed out as I came. I held onto him for a moment, trying to breathe before collapsing next to him.


I heard him suck a breath of much needed air into his lungs before crawling up the rest of my body, leaving short, quick, kisses on my skin.


“You definitely made up for it,” I managed to whisper, playing with his soft hair.


He pulled me into his arms before lying back down.


He didn’t say anything; he didn’t even look at me. Instead, he simply stared at the ceiling, playing with my fingers. The look in his eyes bothered me. Truthfully, whatever was preoccupying his mind, taking his attention away from us, was annoying me greatly.


“Please tell me you’re not thinking about Jinx,” I hissed, resting my head on his chest.


Finally looking at me, he chuckled, brushing my hair back behind my ear.


“Love…”


“Liam, I was with others before you. I can’t take it back. I don’t want to take it back, nor should I have to. But there is a distinct difference between you and all others,” I declared, taking his hands into mine.


I stared at our wedding rings. It was so odd to me. Here I was, married, pregnant, in love. Where had the old Mel gone? I was barely able to tell my own father that I loved him when he was alive. Oftentimes, I wasn’t even sure if it was love or just respect. And yet, with him… He made me feel soft. He made it okay for me to be soft.


“And that difference is?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.


Groaning, I leaned up just to bite his nipple.


“Fuck, Mel.”


“You know what it is, ass. I didn’t love them. I really didn’t care about them. They were just men. I love you. I care about you, and you’re my husband. None of them mattered.”


“See, that wasn’t so hard, right?” He laughed. I loved the way he laughed. It was like a chilling wind that always cut right through me.


Trying my best not to smile, I headed towards my clothes.


“Where the hell are you going? We’re not done having sex yet!” he yelled behind me.


“You’re the one who took a break. Now, I want to see this Féile Na Beatha.”


He frowned, his eyes roaming over my skin. “This isn’t over.”


“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I winked, grabbing a dress before heading to the bathroom.


“Mel,” he whispered, so softly I almost missed it.


“Yes?”


“I love you. I care about you, and you are my wife.”


I stood there a moment, just staring at him and him at me.


Who were we?


How did we get here?


When did we become this…in love?


And why wasn’t I more bothered by it?


It was so odd being so open with someone. Trusting someone completely.


“Good,” was all I could manage to say before I locked myself in the bathroom and leaned against the door.


LIAM


Navigating through a sea of drunken Irishmen and women was a skill my wife did not possess. The moment we had made it into the rundown brick town that was nicknamed Killeshin, she was forced to bury her nose into my shirt to keep from getting sick. There was enough alcohol in the air to make an elephant drunk, and if that didn’t bother you, there was always the scent of roasted lamb mixed with the stench of human sweat.


However, you didn’t come here for the food, or even the alcohol. You came for the music; which echoed off every stone, shutter, and living thing.


“We can go back,” I uttered, pulling her into my arms as the herd swallowed us whole.


“I’m fine, I just need a second to adjust,” she mumbled, taking another deep breath in my shirt.


The way she held onto me made her look sweet and innocent, like a gentle cub. It was scary how well she could hide who she really was.


“Liam?”


“Yes.”


“What are your parents doing?” she asked, stopping to stare at my mother and father who stood only a few paces ahead of us, closer to the Celtic band.


Neither of them seemed to notice the idiots around them. They were too busy making love with their eyes. Slowly my father fell to one knee, pulling out a small red box to present to her.


“He’s asking for her hand in marriage again,” Coraline said behind us as she walked up hand in hand with Declan. She grinned so wide her face looked as though it was going to break in half.


“Uncle, the smooth criminal,” Declan winked, wrapping his arms around Coraline.


“He proposed the first time here, right?” asked Coraline.


Why, I’m not sure, for she had to know the answer already.


“Yep, I do believe mom was so pregnant she couldn’t even see her toes let alone the ring he had bought her.”


“At least he had a ring, Declan.”


“You’re never going to let me live that down…”


“Well, if it isn’t the Callahan Clan?” called out Old Man Doyle, and just like that, the music cut, the sea of drunks parted, and his men stalked around us, like vultures to their prey. Blowing smoke out of his nose, his old eyes glanced over Mel in disgust. “And this Italian cunt too.”


His men laughed, and one by one all other bystanders, at least the ones with even the slightest mental capacity, retreated into their homes.


“You should lay off the pipe, old man. You don’t have very many brain-cells left,” Mel hissed, breaking free of me completely to stand on her own.


Using his cane, he stepped forward once more. “In my day, wenches like you kept their mouths zipped and legs opened. Nothing more, nothing less.”


Her hand twitched in the direction of her gun, skillfully hidden at the back of her bra. Stepping forward, I forced myself in between them, my father and Declan were beside me within seconds.

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