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Punky’s blue eyes lock on where we join, watching the way we become one. “I love you too,” he says, his smooth accent a punch to my center. “I can’t believe yer mine.”
I love that I belong to him, and he to me because I finally feel whole.
He interlocks our fingers, running his thumb over my ring. I love that he too appreciates the importance of it on my finger as it means more than just marriage.
It signifies that we made it—we survived.
I continue rocking slowly, our passionate moans wrapping us tightly into a world where only we exist. He allows me to take control, trusting me as I trust him.
Our bodies are slick, warm, and when he places a hand to my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh, I increase the rhythm because I want him deeper. I lift my hips, only to lower myself slowly back onto him.
“Fuck, Baby,” he moans, the veins in his neck corded. “Yer goin’ to kill me.”
“What a way to go,” I counter, clenching my muscles around him.
We savor one another for what feels like hours, never breaking contact. I know if anything happened to Punky, the connection is so deep that I wouldn’t survive it.
He leans forward, suckling my breasts as I run my fingers over his chest and his rock-hard abs. I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt this close to him. I fuck him leisurely, rocking back and forth and side to side.
He grips my ass, encouraging me to take him deeper, and when I rearrange my position so I’m squatting over him, I know we’re both ready to come.
Increasing the tempo, I bounce on his cock, using his slick chest as support as I ride him hard. He grips the back of the sofa, almost tearing it to shreds as he raises his hips, meeting me thrust for thrust.
Leaning down, I kiss him passionately while riding him hard. My legs are like Jell-O, but Punky grips my waist with both hands and milks the pleasure we both want. Before long, my body grows lax, and he’s the puppeteer while I’m the marionette as he bends my body how he wants.
He is the one who is now fucking me hard, and when he strokes over my clit in just the right way, over and over again, I throw back my head and see stars as I come with a satisfied cry. My heart threatens to burst free as my body shudders uncontrollably.
With a guttural groan, Punky comes loud and hard and comes inside me. I don’t think twice about the consequences because I want him inside me. I always do.
When my body is spent, I collapse forward, gulping in mouthfuls of air. I’m dizzy because holy shit, that was fucking incredible. Punky holds me tightly against his chest, breathing hard as we both catch our breaths.
We stay interlocked for minutes, simply enjoying the silence. I never want to leave.
Punky runs his fingertips up and down my back, spreading goosebumps from head to toe. I’m almost asleep when his cell rings. He makes no attempts to answer it, but when it rings again and again, he sighs.
“Sorry, Baby.”
With a groan, I slowly lift myself off him, falling back onto the sofa and admiring his firm ass as he hunts for his phone. When he retrieves and answers it, our bliss has come to an end.
“Fuck!” he curses before ending the call.
As he frantically gets dressed, I jump up and follow suit. “What’s wrong?”
Running a hand through his hair, he appears to need a moment before responding. This can’t be good. “It’s Aoife.”
I wait for him to continue, but nothing can prepare me for what he says next.
“She’s dead…and Liam has Shay. We have to go.”
This has to stop.
I can’t take any more.
When Alek phoned and told me what had happened, it was history repeating itself—again and again. But I won’t allow another person to be used as collateral, especially my child.
Alek’s men have followed Liam to his house in Dublin, which is where Cami and I are parked.
Alek’s men didn’t want to intervene, knowing this is my fight. There is no way anyone is taking this away from me. Alek said it was too late for Aoife, but he knew Liam wouldn’t hurt Shay because he needs him; just how Sean needed Babydoll.
