My cheeks flame. I squeeze my eyes shut. He’s not wrong. The thought crossed my mind too.
Dominic’s thick fingers squeeze my shoulder reassuringly. ‘No, Mama K, Aoife isn’t pregnant.’ His lips graze my temple. ‘Yet.’
I gasp and he laughs. He’s joking, right?
Glasses clink. Conversation resumes. Rapid-fired questions fire our way.
Where did we meet?
How long have we been together?
Are we going on honeymoon?
Dominic answers smoothly when I hesitate. His hand still doesn’t drift from my body, and I’m so grateful for it, because even though our relationship has shifted, himchoosing this hotel, inviting this crowd, was strategic. A declaration.
Along the street, through the tall front windows, I can see it—the faint outline of Rory Kavanagh’s Victorian mansion.
Close enough to taunt.
Close enough to provoke.
We’ve started a war.
And all I can do is pray my husband is not one of the casualties.
Because I am head over heels in love with him.
35
DOMINIC
It’s a battle to sit through dinner when the only thing I want to eat is my wife’s pussy. The scent of her perfume wafts beneath my nose every time she flicks her curls back from her face. I can’t stop touching her. I even ate my dinner with one hand so I could keep the other on her thigh beneath the table.
She’s given herself to me.
I knew this was fate.
Finally, the plates are cleared, the tables are taken away, and the hotel staff begin to turn the room around for the evening entertainment. I hired Amber, the band that Aoife was swaying her hips to in the kitchen a few weeks ago. She’s going to go crazy when she sees them.
‘Come on.’ I grab her hand and dip out of the double doors, pulling her up the wide staircase towards our suite. I can’t take it any longer; I need a few minutes alone with her.
‘Won’t we be missed?’ She glances back over her shoulder, but her fingers tighten around mine.
‘I don’t give a fuck. They won’t start without us. Not until we do the first dance. I need to touch you, Aoife,’ a growlrumbles in the back of my throat. ‘And I think you need it too.’
She wets her lips. ‘Dominic,’ my name rolls from her tongue like a plea and a prayer.
We reach the suite door. I pull the keycard from my pocket and open the door without breaking eye contact. She steps inside the bedroom, glancing around at the high ceilings and opulent décor, before meeting my eye again.
I prowl closer to stand in front of her, cradling her face in my hand. Heat and hunger burn in her irises, but there’s no missing she’s nervous too.
Her throat works as she swallows. ‘I want you, Dom,’ she admits. ‘I wanted you even at the bar the day I ran into you. I kept telling myself it was wrong. That you were everything I didn’t need in my life.’
I inch my lips closer to hers. ‘And now?’
‘Now, you’re the only thing I need,’ she whispers.
‘I love you.’ It’s the second time I’ve said it out loud.
