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26
NIALL
I’d made another fucking mistake.
I can’t stop thinking about it the next morning, all through the process of waking up and getting dressed and heading out again, a stony silence between us on my part and a tentative one on Isabella’s. I’d lost control—again.
I’d wanted to punish her. I’d thought she’d hate it, having me edge her like that, torturing her to the point of tears with gentle, teasing pleasure. When she’d begged so sweetly, so pleadingly, when she’d come so hard for me when I’d allowed it, I’d lost all my control. I’d had to have her. Past my own body’s limitations with my injuries, even, I had to fuck her as hard and rough as she deserved, like I haven’t been able to stop imagining. And I had.
I’d also felt like my fucking soul was being ripped out of my body when I’d come, harder than I ever had before, and realized that it was probably the last time I’d come with her.
It needed to be.
In a few hours, we’ll be at the airfield. I’ll get us both on the plane, and then we’ll be on our way to freedom—for both of us.
I’m a bloody fucking fool, though, if I think I can ever really put all of this behind me.
We’re almost to the airfield when I hear the cars.
Fucking hell.
It’s almost enough to make me wonder if Diego had planned it, chosen to wait until we’d almost reached freedom before making that last bid to attack. As my motorcycle nearly reaches the tarmac, two cars speed onto it, blocking the path between us and the airplane waiting.
“Hang on!” I shout, loud enough for Isabella to hear, and I grab the pistol from the waistband of my jeans.
It’s no small feat to shoot a gun while riding a motorcycle, but it’s not the first time I’ve done it, either. I swerve to one side, feeling Isabella cling to me, hearing her cry of fear as the cars skid across the tarmac, too, sliding to a stop as armed men spill out.
“Niall!” She screams my name as the gunshots start, as I weave and dip, shooting towards the men as I try to keep us both from getting hit. I see two of the men go down, blood spattering across the tarmac and their car, and Isabella screams again.
I’m not letting them stop us.
“Don’t fight me!” I shout as I lower the bike, as low as I can without throwing both of us off, and Isabella leans with me as I shoot again, bullets bringing down their targets each time. I weave around one car, watching out of the corner of my eye as the men try to take cover and then shoot again, and I see the side door of one open as Diego steps out.
“Give me back my bride, Flanagan!” he shouts, and I laugh, almost loud enough to be heard over the gunfire and the roar of my engine.
I drop the bike, grabbing Isabella around the waist as I drag her off it with me, leaping free as it spins across the tarmac. I shoot again, just barely missing this time. “Not a bloody fucking chance in hell, Gonzalez!” I shout back. “I’ve married her, so you’ve lost your chance! She’s mine now, and I’m taking her home. You can rot in fucking hell.”
I aim for him, but he ducks just in time. “Kill them both!” he shouts, all of his remaining men surging forward as one, and I shove Isabella towards the plane.
“Run!” I shout, and she obeys, fleeing towards the plane, ducking as the bullets ring out. They’re more focused on me than her, though, and rightfully so. I’m the one that’s lethal, the one that can bring them all down, and I fucking will, if it means keeping my wife and child safe.
My wife.
Two more bullets ring out from my gun as I near the plane. Isabella is already scrambling aboard, and I leap on with her, sliding into the doorway as I fire again. A bullet hits the side, glancing off, and I shout at the pilot to take off, but the plane is already starting to taxi.
I throw myself into the plane fully, nearly falling onto Isabella as I keep myself in front of her, shielding her from any stray gunfire as the plane pulls away from the still-firing men. Diego is shouting, and cursing, but he can’t stop us now.
We’re free.
Gasping for breath, I turn towards Isabella, who looks like she’s about to pass out. She’s panting, too, her mouth open as she tries to get enough air, and she stares up at me wide-eyed. We’re on a cargo plane with very little actual seating to speak of, and the cargo shakes in its webbing as the plane starts to take off.
“You said I was yours,” Isabella whispers, staring up at me. Her hand rises slowly, brushing against the stubble on my cheek. “Did you mean it?”
I close my eyes, wanting to lean into her caress. My entire body is vibrating with adrenaline and fear, and as I open my eyes and look down at her, I can feel the nearness with which I almost lost her. It was so fucking close, and the vision of her bleeding out on the tarmac, clutching her stomach, is so vivid that it’s almost as if it really happened.
It’s so vivid, the feeling of loss so strong, that I can’t stop what happens next.
I lean down, crushing my mouth against hers as I bury my hands in her hair, pulling her up off the floor. Her lips open for me, my tongue tangling with hers as I groan, not caring if the pilot can hear. I half rise, half stumble towards one of the few seats near the window, and pull Isabella onto my lap as I keep kissing her fiercely, madly, wanting to imprint the feeling of her mouth onto mine forever.
“I wish I could mean it,” I whisper against her lips, running my fingers through her thick hair, devouring the softness of her lips. “But for now, you are mine, Isabella. And I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”
She’s reaching between us before I can, fumbling with my belt, and the adrenaline takes over as she frees my cock, straddling my lap. Her skirt falls around my hips, shielding us as I thrust into her, my groan of pleasure swallowed up in her kiss as I take what I want, what I need, what I so desperately crave. I thrust up into her, the hot, wet, welcoming tightness of her, and I kiss her mouth, her throat, and the tops of her breasts as I hold onto her hips and fuck her like a man possessed, acutely aware of how close we came to death.
I feel her hands on my face, her mouth on mine as she shudders around me, clenching, orgasming on my cock, and that pulls my release out of me, spurting into her hot and thick as I fill her up, wanting her to be full of me forever, to never leave me, never go anywhere but where she is right now.
Mine.
I shouldn’t mean it, but I did. I do.
I just can’t let her know the truth.
