‘Because I’m not a wee laddie anymore. As well you know.’
‘I… I do.’ Carli couldn’t believe how weak she sounded, but the thrust of Niall’s intent, it completely threw her. If she’d supposed for a moment that his feelings for her weren’t strong enough to withstand whatever else was going on in his life, she was realising that she might very well have underestimated him.
‘I asked myself why I never threw this scrappy wee book away,’ he said, ‘despite everything else from that room being gone. And the answer is simple. Because I never wanted to let go of hope. Of you. I know we can go the distance, but it only works if you believe it too. If you’re going to falter because you’ve got zero faith in me, then we’re fucked, do you understand? And I don’t want us to be fucked.’ Niall took a moment and steadied himself, like his own words were too much for him, but then he regained his momentum and drifted his face to hers. ‘So…’ His words came out on the hot murmur of his out breath, floating to her lips. ‘“Ae fareweel, and then forever”! Right?’
Carli could barely speak. No, scratch that. She couldn’t breathe. Did she want Niall to kiss her and then leave? Say goodbye forever. He was challenging her. Asking if that was whatshewanted.
‘I’m waiting,’ he said, his mouth vibrating with intent at hers. ‘You say it and this will be the last kiss. If you can walk away, I’ll let you. Because if you’re able to let this go, thenmaybe it isn’t what we imagined. But I am telling you something, Carli Caselli, you are not getting out of this thing without me making it abundantly fucking clear just…how…much…I love you.’
Oh, my God. What?Carli’s knees buckled. Niall saw it and caught her, palms gripping her upper arms, questioning flashing in his eyes as if afraid he’d hurt her, but he didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. He was perfectly aware of what his words had done. Oh Jesus. She was done for.
He met her gaze. It was a yes or no he wanted, but it didn’t have to be spoken. Just an assent. An acknowledgement that she trusted he understood his own heart. And she had to. She did. His love was smouldering out of him like smoke out of a volcano.
She nodded.
He smiled, a subtle trace of one. Maybe a little bit cocky, but, oh, he had her crumbling. God, she loved him. So goddamned much.
Niall dipped his head to her neck and murmured into her skin.
‘“But to see her was to love her, love but her and her forever.”’
She closed her eyes, heaved in a breath, heaved in this man that she had loved since she was fifteen years old when he was all long legs and mussed-up hair and misdirected attitude. She would let him love her. There would be no more arguments about that.
Niall brought his face back to hers, the intensity in his irises searing into her. She’d never seen those flecks of green burn so fiercely amidst the blue. Niall the sixteen-year-old had loved with a boyish intensity, this man loved with masculine ferocity. And she loved him back like a series of arrows right to the centre of his heart, for everything he wasand everything he wanted to be, for her and for both of them. And he deserved to know that. He truly did.
‘Oh, Niall, I?—’
‘Shh,’ he said, for some reason blocking her words, even though his need for them was flaming through his whole being, holding unremitting tension in his shoulders. ‘Don’t say it.’
‘But—’
‘Shh.’ He grasped the hem of her jumper, tugged it up over her head. Did the same with the layers she wore underneath until she was in only her bra and leggings. He yanked off his own top and for a moment roamed his gaze over her body, her face. Then it was back to the clothes: her bra, her leggings, his jeans, his underwear until the only piece of clothing between them was her panties, and the way he felt about her was unmistakable.
He pulled cushions from the nearby couch onto the floor. ‘Lie down on the cushions,’ he said.
Every fragmentary motion of Carli’s was conducted by the electricity in Niall’s words; in one fluid movement she was on her back on the soft velvet, and Niall in all his magnificent, naked glory was there facing her. Tenderly, he reached for her panties, pulled them down over her ankles and cast them aside. He moved over her, broad and heavy but taking enough of his own weight so as not to hurt her. Taking care of her.
When his eyes met hers, he asked only one question. ‘Okay?’
She nodded assent. Everything that had gone between them was foreplay enough, his words rendering her more than ready.
Niall reached for his jeans, but Carli stopped him.
‘We don’t have to use one. I’m on the pill cause it helpswith my Fibro symptoms. If we’re all good and clean then let’s go bare?’
‘Aye, Cass. We are all good here.’
And then he was back, gaze locked on her, urging his thickness into her soaking, swollen core, a near silent ‘fuck’ rasping out of him, the only loss of control she’d seen him elicit this whole time.
Carli swelled even more as he filled her.
He found her hand with his own, raised it to the side of her head, slipped his fingers between hers and squeezed.
She squeezed right back.
Niall moved slow. Oh, so slow. And it drove everything through Carli. Each millimetre he moved into her broke her for him a little more and her experience was being mirrored right back to her. Neither of them exchanged a word. They didn’t need to.
She was inflamed everywhere for him. Not only between her legs, but her whole being. If love could have cured illness, he’d have mended her in moments.
