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My truck, the one I’d bought after our first big paycheck from Cillian, the one that I’d used on so many jobs that it held most of my adult memories? Gone, collecting dust in my garage, because the thought of Rory stumbling down from the passenger seat hurt me more than giving up my first real adult purchase.
Rory made me feel crazed, made me want to spend every second at her side, making her laugh and smile and look at me with the spark of feeling I’d glimpsed a few times over the past few weeks. I already knew it’d be difficult to win her over. A life of hiding herself away made her unused to the type of devotion she deserved. But I also knew she craved it, her cheeks pinking every time I focused my attention on her.
Not to mention the way she’d danced against me in the dim light of the fire pit, body moving against mine with none of the self-control she tried to implement whenever we were together. The dancing alone was enough to get me so hard I ached, every part of me itching to slip my fingers higher on her torso, or move them in the opposite direction, sliding them under the waistband of her jeans. The whispered, drunken confession that came after, begging me to only be with her, as if anyone else could ever hold my attention.
Then there was this morning, the sound of her gasping my name just as I reached her door. I had to adjust myself in my pants before I could even knock, squeezing myself to the point of pain just to keep myself in control.
Our moment earlier this morning, where I almost allowed every bit of planning fall to the wayside, the need in Rory’s eyes enough to have me wanting to bend her over the bench and fuck her until she screamed so loud everyone in the house could hear.
I wanted to hear her moan my name, taste her arousal on my tongue, feel her come around my cock and on my fingers, know what she looked like when I made her fall apart over and over, when I made her limp with pleasure but still made hercrave more. Her legs opening in permission to let me touch her had stripped away almost every ounce of self-restraint I’d been slowly building up since the first minute I laid my hands on her.
I’d spent half of the last two weeks trying and failing to keep my hands off of my fiancée, using every excuse to get close to her. Pulling her ponytail off her neck when she lifted weights in Alex’s home gym, brushing my lips across her forehead every chance I got, pretending it was for her comfort when really it was to keep me from crawling out of my skin. To settle some of the need that constantly ran rampant in her presence.
I spent the other half with my hand around my cock, biting my lip to keep from shouting Rory’s name loud enough that she could hear me from her bedroom. Even then, I occasionally wondered what would happen if I allowed my voice to carry, if Rory wanted to hear her name on my lips as I spilled over my fist.
I knew she wanted me, even before last night and this morning, knew it in the way she looked at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. How she forced herself to look away, as if I didn't want her attention. As if I didn't want to fucking devour her myself.
The only thing that allowed me to keep my tenuous control was the knowledge that Rorywouldbe mine. It wasn’t a question, wasn’t some vague thought or hope or wish. It was a fact, something I felt in my bones. What I knew even more, though, was that I couldn’t approach Rory with the full force of my want. She was skittish, and even if I didn’t fully understand why, I saw it in her eyes. I couldn’t make the first move, couldn’t risk having her regret giving in to what I offered. I needed her to come to me, to make the choice for herself.
I wasn’t in a rush, spending my time trying to win her over with casual affection and enjoying every moment I spent unraveling the self-control she tried to maintain in my presence.I’d broken tougher men than her, those whose submission meant a fraction of what Rory’s would. And I needed to do it right, break her defenses down so thoroughly she almost felt glad for the fall when it came. Rory would be mine, but I’d give her all the time she needed.
I’d have a lifetime to win her over, as long as I made sure this wedding went off without a hitch.
I’d already threatened those that needed it - namely, the security Cillian had put on the event - making it clear what would happen to their balls if Rory wasn’t tied to me by the end of the day. Alex and Bex hadn’t picked up any intel about another attempt on Rory’s life, but I wouldn’t take any chances, ordering Bex to glue herself to Rory’s side until she had to walk with Wren down the aisle.
I was too eager to take in the decor that Fiona had worked on with Wren and Ames’s help. Couldn’t appreciate the floral scent that suffused the space, didn’t see what the guests were wearing or even who the guests were outside of whether they’d pose a threat to my future. I was coiled tight underneath the relaxed and easygoing veneer I put on in front of the hundred or so guests who had filed into the chapel.
I made casual conversation with the priest, though I wouldn’t have been able to recall what we spoke about or what he wore. My eyes were too focused on the large oak doors at the end of the aisle to take in much else. I barely noticed when the music started, an organ echoing off the gray stones of the ancient church, too consumed by worst-case scenarios.
I didn’t feel like myself, couldn’t remember the last time I expected the worst. But even as I reminded myself that Bex and Alex would never allow it to happen, I imagined the music cutting off suddenly, the crowd whispering that the bride had been stolen or had run away, and I had to force my hands to relax from where they had clenched at my sides.
I didn’t feel an ounce of relief until I stood at the altar and the doors opened, Alex and Ames walking down the aisle arm in arm. Ames had stepped in as Rory’s maid of honor and I hadn’t even needed to ask Alex to be my best man, his place at my side a given.
Bex and Wren came down soon after. Bex gave me a subtle nod as I caught her eye, ensuring that Rory was waiting behind the closed doors, ready to walk down the aisle.
We stood there for a few moments, the five of us. Ames and Wren matching in their forest green bridesmaid dresses, a cluster of white roses and winter greenery clenched in their fists, their newly soldered bracelets shining on their wrists. Alex, Bex, and me, in our gray suits and green ties, guns hidden underneath our clothes in case we needed to protect our women. I took a moment to appreciate the last time we would stand as just the five of us, before the anxiety rushed back in and I rocked onto my toes, ready to run from the altar, down the aisle, and burst through the doors just to see that Rory was safe and sound. But I didn’t, Alex’s hand on my shoulder the only thing keeping me in place.
And then she was there, walking toward me with Cormac at her side, and I took the first full breath I’d taken all day.
My eyes raked over her from head to toe, taking in every piece of her like a snapshot. Her hair, curling in soft waves down her back, a veil tucked into the crown of her head. Her dress, falling off her shoulders and dipping into a vee at her chest, allowing a glimpse of the freckles I’d become obsessed with. The sleeves, sheer and loose around her arms, tightening at her wrists. The corset-like bodice of the dress, wrapped in more sheer fabric that nipped at her waist before flaring into a skirt that dragged along the floor.
She walked to me with steady strides, her chin lifted and her eyes on mine, a soft smile curving her lips even as I watched thebouquet shiver slightly from the shake in her fingers. Her eyes didn’t hold any regret, just stark determination.
She reached me too slowly, every moment with her hand not in mine a torture now that she was so close to being linked to me forever.
Cormac gave her away at the priest’s direction, but my eyes met Cillian’s as I took Rory’s hand in mine. We dipped our chins in mutual thanks, acknowledging that Cillian had kept his daughter safe this long, but I’d be taking up the mantle from this point forward.
And then she was standing in front of me, her bouquet passed to Ames and her hands free for mine to wrap around. I ran my thumb over her engagement ring, which would soon be paired with the ring that bound her to me. I grinned at the reminder that within the next half hour she’d be stuck with me, giving me a lifetime to win her heart, her mind, her body, her soul.
My smile only widened when my touch brought a blush to her cheeks, darkening the skin there. I couldn’t help but reach out, running my thumb over her cheekbone, whispering as the priest began to speak.
“Beautiful.”
Chapter 16
Rory
The wedding was goingoff without a hitch. The morning had gone by slowly after our moment in the gym, my cheeks permanently flushed with thewhat ifsthat ran through my head. Dev and I had awkwardly adjusted ourselves before we headed back to the main floor. Alex and Ames had made breakfast as promised, and Wren and Bex had brought seemingly enough champagne and fruit juice to make mimosas for the entire wedding guest list.
