“Fuuucccckkkk,” He groans, his thrusts turning choppy before he stills, spilling into me, cock jerking before he relaxes but he doesn’t let go.
I shuffle a little, forcing myself onto my elbows so I can look down on his face, but his arms never truly let go. He runs his fingers down my spine, as soft as a whisper. Whiskey eyes bounce between mine, but everything in him is relaxed, soft,content.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hi, baby.” He grins, giving me those smile lines and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. My heart twists, thumping hard enough I hear it in my ears.
Easing off him, I wince as he slips out of me and I shift until I land on my back beside him, staring up at the ceiling. He reaches for my hand, his thumb seeking the ring on my finger before he lifts and then presses his lips to it.
“You.” He breathes. “It’s you.”
I lazily roll my head toward him. “What’s me?”
“The bigger picture.” He chuckles lightly. “The thing that matters more.”
“More than what?”
“Everything, Niamh,” He sighs, “I got a letter.”
Rolling until I’m on my side, I face him, my hands cupped beneath my cheek, “From who?”
“My grandfather,” He turns to look at me, “He explained why.”
“Why you had to get married?” I frown.
“Mm,” He nods, “And I understand now.”
“Why was it?” I press.
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.” With a gentle hand, he untucks my hand from under my face and fidgets with the ring. “This was my mother’s.”
My eyes widen. “What!?”
“It was my grandmother’s before that.” He continues.
“Roman!” I gasp, “No. You have to take it back.”
The laugh that erupts from him startles me, and I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Maybe he has. There’s no fucking way this man gave me his mother’s ring. Not when this whole thing is —was— fake. I think back to that day, how he had stared at it, the way his eyes had glazed, but he never said anything. I figured he had picked them up from a store; hell, I wasn’t even expecting a damn ring. Now I find out it’s his mother’s —his grandmother’s.
I don’t feel important enough to wear it.
“Roman,” I try to catch his attention, “I’m so fucking serious.”
“I’m not taking it back, you’re keeping it.”
“What the hell!?”
“After my mother died, the ring went to me. It always goes to the oldest in the next generation to be used as their wedding ring. I was never going to getmarried, Niamh, it wasn’t something I sought until I physically had to.”
“But…why?”
“I looked for something else,” He admits. “I was basically bribing you into this, and I wanted you to have something at least, a ring, but nothing fit. I couldn’t find anything. I looked at hundreds of rings online, and in store but nothing was right. They were all beautiful, but they weren’tright. I couldn’t come to you with nothing, not when you saved me.”
“It was an agreement,” I defend.
“No, you saved me. You gave me back something I had worked my whole life for. The money, it didn’t mean anything, what you did was and will always be more. This place, it’s my home. It’s all I know, and I was going to lose it without you.”
“You saved me too,” I remind him.
