I can feel him losing control a little, not able to be quite so careful, and that electrifies me even more. I stroke the base of his cock in short movements, timing it with my sucking, keeping him from going as deep as he wants, enjoying tormenting him more than a little. I hear Niall’s growl, and look up to see the expression of blissful frustration on his face.
“I fucking love and hate that all at once,” he groans. “I want you to keep doing that, lass, and at the same time I want to fuck your face until I come so hard there’s not a drop left in my balls, aye?”
I grin around his cock, stretching my lips as I take more of him, and Niall’s fingers thread through my hair as he groans with satisfaction. “Aye, that’s right, take as much of my cock as you can, lass. Take it deep—ohfuck--”
Another inch, and another, and then I can feel him sliding into my throat. The tip rubs me there, making my throat spasm and clench around him, tight as my pussy as I rub my tongue over his shaft. I can feel his hips starting to jerk as he loses a fraction of control, his hand tightening in my hair. I’ve gotten better at not scratching him with my teeth, and I bob my head, mimicking the shallow thrusts of him fucking me as I squeeze my thighs together, resisting the urge to reach down and touch myself. I want to focus on him, but my own arousal is peaking, shudders of pleasure rippling through me at his reactions to me sucking his cock.
He starts to thrust into my mouth, not so gentle now, the bed shaking a little as he throws his head back with a strangled groan. I’m so wet that I can feel it slick on my thighs, and I feel myself clenching as Niall fucks my throat, choking around his thick, throbbing length. I want to keep going, but I know he’s close as he rocks deeper, pulling free after a moment to give me a chance to breathe.
“I’m so close to coming, lass—” He growls the words, every muscle straining. “Take it in your mouth for me and swallow, like a good girl?”
I moan helplessly, nodding as he starts to push deeply into my mouth again, feeling wild with desire. I’m hot all over, aching for him, and I suck him harder still, wanting his cum. He feeds me his cock again, thrusting in short jerks into my mouth, his control on a knife’s edge. “Fuck, I’m going to come—” he groans, and I feel him swell larger still, harder than ever, all salty, hard flesh in my mouth as he pushes into my throat and I feel the first hot, thick burst of it.
“Fuck,Isabella!” He cries out my name, clutching my hair, panting as his cock jerks and spurts in my mouth again and again, filling it with his cum. “Such a good girl, swallow it all,fuckyes—”
I take every drop, swallowing convulsively as he shoots down my throat, and I grip his thigh, sucking and swallowing until he’s twitching and groaning, pulling his cock free from my lips.
“Too much—” he laughs, looking down at me as he pushes himself up. “God, lass, you suck cock better than anyone I’ve ever known. I’d marry you just for that.”
He grabs me by the waist, flipping me onto my back as he pushes my thighs wide, diving between them without preamble. “I’m going to make you come so hard you scream,” he tells me, his voice that thick lustful burr,” and then he presses his mouth between my thighs, pushing his tongue deeply inside of me as if he doesn’t care a whit that he came in me not long ago.
He fucks me with his tongue for a moment, short, curling strokes that leave me gasping, and then slides it up to my clit. The moment his tongue flicks over my aching clit, sliding through all the slick wetness left from going down on him, I clutch the blankets and let out a shrieking moan as my delayed orgasm crashes over me, hard and unexpected.
Niall presses his mouth tighter against me, licking and sucking through the climax as I thrash and moan beneath him, losing myself entirely to the pleasure. I’d been so close just from his cock in my mouth, and now I come wildly, gushing over his tongue and chin as he urges me through it.
Even when the waves of pleasure subside, he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, rubbing his tongue over my clit, pushing two fingers inside my still-fluttering pussy as I grind against his hand, wild with the ceaseless pleasure. “You’re going to come for me again,” Niall murmurs, looking up at me with those piercing eyes, and the command sends a shudder through me as I ride his fingers and his tongue, shamelessly grinding to the climax that I want all over again.
I lose track of how many times he makes me come like that. When I’m finally boneless and exhausted, he stretches out next to me, cradling me in his arms.
We fall asleep like that, naked and tangled together, in the bed that will be ours.I’m never replacing this bed,I think to myself, and I might have said it out loud, because Niall chuckles as he kisses my hair lightly.
“Whatever pleases you, lass,” he murmurs against my forehead, pulling me closer as I nestle into him. “Forever, my love.”
20
ISABELLA
Niall is insistent that we have our “real” wedding well before the baby comes, which means that the next weeks are a flurry of activity. He’s also insistent that I have as little stress as possible, which surprisingly is easy, given that there won’t be many people at our wedding. There are no families to argue with and please, given that mine are back in Mexico and unaware, and Niall’s family is gone. It’s just us, the Kings that Niall has a close rapport with and their families, and Liam and Ana who will be in attendance. Ana, for her part, is ecstatic at the idea of helping me get ready for a wedding, and Niall’s black credit card gets plenty of use between that and changes to the house.
I insist, over and over, that I love the house just as it is, but Niall is equally insistent that I make it my own, too. “I want you to feel at home here,” he tells me over and over again, and finally I relent and make a few changes.
I don’t spend another night at my own apartment in the high rise after the afternoon Niall brought me to the house, and I can’t get over the guilt at what a colossal waste it is to keep renting it. As a result, we bring the furniture pieces that I loved most to the new house, primarily the couch I’d chosen. I’d fallen in love with the dove grey velvet piece the instant I’d seen it, as well as the black slate and gold-edged coffee table, and between Niall and I we quickly redo the living room of the house to fit the aesthetic of those two pieces. “That old couch that was there is well and truly worn out,” he tells me when the movers arrive with my sofa, but I insist on moving the old couch down to the basement.
A lot of the furniture in the house feels sentimental to me, something I love, because nothing in my childhood home ever felt that way. My mother loved spending money, constantly redecorating, and I never knew what it was like to have a soft worn piece of furniture that I sank into, embedded with years’ worth of memories, or a dining table with burn marks from hot pots of stew and scratches from children banging silverware. The dining room table in particular is one piece I absolutely refuse to replace, and Niall finally gives in when he sees how much it means to me.
“I don’t have much of a family history in way of things to give our children,” I tell him, thinking of the ruby set of my mother’s that I lost at Diego’s, the carved jewelry box in my old bedroom, the stacks of well-loved books. “You have that, and I don’t want to just get rid of all of it.”
Privately, I think Niall is happy I’ve formed an attachment to parts of his family home. We spend long afternoons in hardware stores choosing paint colors, new lighting fixtures, cupboards and tiles and anything else that we feel like changing, but we keep plenty of other things, like the bed where we spent that first afternoon, the dining room set, and the door to the kitchen pantry where his mother left marks recording Niall’s height as he grew. We meet with a landscaper to discuss the garden, which makes me happier than anything else, remembering the garden behind my house in Mexico that Elena and I used to spend so much time in, day after day.
Ana takes me wedding dress shopping, cajoling me into trying on gown after gown, everything from princess-style ball gowns to sleek silk sheath dresses. “You know this is going to be a small wedding, right?” I ask her jokingly as I come out in a gown with a strapless lace bodice, grosgrain ribbon that ties in a huge bow in the back with the tails streaming down the fluffy tulle skirt. “There’s no way I’m wearing this.”
“I know,” she says with a cheeky grin. “I just wanted to get to see you try it on.”
In those weeks between my release from the hospital and the wedding, my friendship with Ana grows by leaps and bounds. I find her to be kind, sweet, and surprisingly funny and energetic for someone who has endured so much. Liam often offers to watch Brigit so that we can go out when he’s not busy with Kings business, and when I ask him about it one day, he almost looks misty-eyed as he answers.
“It breaks my heart often to think of how hard Ana’s life has been before this,” he tells me, standing just outside the door of the McGregor estate as I wait for my car. “I know she’s lonely here sometimes, especially without Sofia, and yet she’s never complained. She knows this is where we have to be. I’ve seen videos of her before—” he pauses. “What happened. Since she’s been friends with you, I’ve seen more glimpses of the old Ana than ever before—her the way she used to be, the way she usually only is with Sofia. It makes me happier than I can possibly tell you that she has that here with you all of the time, and not just when Sofia is in town visiting.”
Ana and I were already spending plenty of time together, but after that I make a point to make as much time for her as possible. She starts to spend some afternoons at the house while I dig in the garden, letting Brigit play in the dirt while we talk about everything and nothing. We don’t often talk about the bad things that have happened in the past, preferring to let that rest, but when it does come up I feel glad that I know someone who understands. Niall supports me through everything, holds me when the nightmares come and dries all of my tears, but he can never truly understand it in the way that Ana does—the fear of being a woman entirely under the power of a cruel man.