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With a sigh, I stand up, stretching out my arms as I do so.
“M’lady,” I say with a small bow to Roisin.
She frowns at me suspiciously. “What are you—oof!”
I pick her up, bridal style, from her bed and begin to walk out the door, ignoring her protests and squeals as I kiss her forehead.
“I mean it, Knight,” Aimee calls after us. “She needs to rest.”
“I thought you didn’t care!” I shout back over my shoulder.
“I don’t!” Aimee retorts before pausing for a moment. “But I want to check in on her in the morning.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
There are more than a few people who glance at us as we make our way through the bunker. I’d be lying if I said I knew the entire layout by now, but the path between the infirmary and the quarters Jack had given me has become a well-trodden route.
By the time we reach the door, however, Roisin has fallen asleep in my arms.
I gaze at her fondly as I awkwardly fumble the key out of my pocket and let us in.
Though the decor is minimalist, the grays, whites, and creams come together to create something that feels fresh and modern. I haven’t had a chance to check out the other rooms, but this one at least has a king-size bed built into the concrete foundation. Comfortable enough to lure me to sleep a few hours at a time, even on the brink of utter desperation.
It’s there that I lay Roisin down carefully, tucking her in and sliding a pillow under her head.
She’s so beautiful when she sleeps. Her lips are parted, and her usually furrowed brow lies flat for once. She’d look almost angelic if it weren’t for the mass of flaming red hair that would make Satan himself jealous.
Closing the door and kicking off my shoes, I quickly climb into bed next to her. Content with simply watching her, marveling at every breath she takes.
I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until I feel the gentle nudge against my chest.
Through my blurry vision, I can see the outline of Roisin snuggling in closer. Her soft hair tickles my chin, and I lean in to kiss the crown of her head.
This is the danger that haunted me these last few days. Never being able to just dothiswith Roisin ever again. Never being able to confess my love.
I savor the moment, holding her ever closer. I can’t think of a single compelling reason that I should ever need to move again.
Roisin’s hand trails across my chest absently, seemingly awake but just as content as I am. We don’t need to talk; we just need to lie here blissfully happy and safe in each other’s company.
Roisin, however, seems to have other ideas.
Her fingers work their way further and further down my chest. Unashamedly ghosting over my briefs as if the very thought of her being close to me doesn’t make me rock hard.
If she notices, she doesn’t comment. She merely plays with the elastic, dipping the tips of her finger just below and tracing the line of sensitive skin she finds there.
“Tease,” I whisper, my face still buried in her hair.
This only serves to make her bolder. Pushing down my boxers until my cock is fully exposed and tracing around the tops of my thighs. Touching every part of me except the parts I desperately want her to touch.
“Are you trying to make me go insane?” I chastise in her ear, planting kisses down her neck in encouragement.
She withdraws entirely. Her absence is like a bucket of cold water.
“I’m trying to teach you a little patience,” Roisin counters. “I want to take my time with you.”
I chuckle softly. “You should see the way you writhe when I’m inside you. It’s hardly a masterclass in patience.”
Roisin wraps her hand around my painfully hard cock. “What was that?” she teases softly.
