“I don’t want to know.” I put my hands up. “You guys have done a fantastic job so far and given that I thought I’d be having just a quick Registry Office wedding, I’m happy to go along with everything.”

Letting the groom organise everything would be most bride’s idea of hell. But the thing was, Con always wanted better for me than I wanted for myself.

“Marie, I hardly know anyone here, and it would be great to get to know you better, so if you’d like to come, you’re more than welcome. I have no idea where or when the party is, but if you give Kieran your number he can let you know.”

“I’d like that,” she replied genuinely. Handing him a business card, she confirmed that the boutique’s number and email address were on the card if he’d like to let her know when and where. It was a way of giving Kieran a way to get in touch, whilst still keeping it cool and professional. For someone who was used to women hanging all over him and trying to tattoo him with their numbers, Keiran seemed baffled by her cool indifference. He knew that she was as attracted to him as he was to her, but kudos to her for not giving into him. Kieran needed the chase until her got to know her better. He was O’Connell’s best friend and brother. I wanted for him the same happiness that we’d found.

“Not that this hasn’t been really fun, but can we go now?” Tommy whined.

Marie looked at her diary and booked me in another dress fitting for the day before the wedding so she could do any on the spot alterations at that time.

“Come on then, Tommy, let’s go,” I told him, which earned me a resounding, “yes!” and him a frown from Marie.

We all told her goodbye, and after a few more minutes procrastination from Kieran, left the shop.

“DID YOU GET A GREAT DRESS, BABE?” O’Connell mumbled sleepily as he fell into bed next to me and hauled me up against him.

“I got a beautiful dress. But I feel bad putting Danny to all that expense for a dress I’ll only wear once,” I admitted.

“You bet your arse you’ll only wear it once,” he told me as he rubbed his hands on the outside of my thigh making me smile.

“I thought you were tired?” I told him.

“Sunshine, the day I’m too tired to get hard around you, is the day you get to put me in the ground.”

He pulled me back even harder as he pushed against me, and I groaned. As tired as I was, I couldn’t get enough of this man. Shocking the hell out of him, I flipped over, pushed him on his back and threw my legs over his hips to straddle him. My confidence with sex was growing every day that we were together. He picked me up by the waist, like I weighed nothing at all, and adjusted me so that I was pressed hard against his cock. Sitting up, his mouth latched onto mine, and he speared his hand in my hair, pulling me toward him. With his free hand, he pushed up his t-shirt that I’d commandeered for bed and palmed my breast, scraping the pad of his thumb against my nipple and making me groan.

“Naked. Now,” he commanded caveman style. Flipping me onto the bed, he dragged the t-shirt over my head and my panties down my legs until I was naked and exposed beneath his huge, cut torso. His eyes travelled their way down my body, and like every time we made love, no matter how hot and heavy, his gaze was so reverent I felt like he was worshipping me. I committed every angle and curve of his body to memory, counting my blessings anew that we’d found each other. His dark skin against my pale, his hard body against my softness, his straight dark hair against my wild blond curls, he was my complete opposite in every way, but his soul was the other half of mine. He was the loud to my quiet, the confidence to my shyness, the rage to my pain. Separately, we were broken and alone. Together, we were blissfully happy and complete and every time that we made love was a celebration of that. Right now, and every time that we were together, I felt like I could take on the world. His lust-filled eyes raked themselves over me as he pulled down his boxers. The instant that he was naked and protected, he was inside of me. His thumb gently stroked my nipple as he thrust slowly in and out. The combined sensation sent tremors shooting straight to my core. His dark head replaced his hand, and he pulled my hardened nipple into the warmth of his mouth and tenderly teased it with his tongue. I was so close that I arched my back, pushing my breast deeper into his mouth. I was desperately close to release when he abruptly pulled out and effortlessly flipped me onto my stomach. We’ve never made love like this, and I was nervous but excited. Not being able to see his face added to the anticipation of what he might do next, but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. His touch gently skimmed my thighs, and he parted my legs carefully as he encouraged me up onto my knees.

“I love your arse,” he told me, smoothing his hand over it.

His hand was so close to touching me where I needed it most that a little shiver ran through my body. The anticipation hightened everything, and I felt like I was standing on the edge of the abyss, waiting for O’Connell to grab my hand and pull me in. Sensing my need, he pushed two fingers gently in and out of me, and I cried out. His other hand reached around and thumbed my clit in small circles. It was too much and too deep, and I felt myself climbing that invisible wall, desperately chasing my orgasm. I was almost there when he pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his cock, thrusting hard until he was fully seated inside me. It was too much, and I whimpered, pleading with him to let me come. He pounded into me relentlessly, and I pushed back with every thrust, wanting this as much as he did. I begged that I couldn’t take anymore, when he rubbed one last gentle circle around my clit, and I was done. My orgasm crashed over me in waves that seemed to go on forever and as though my release had triggered something in O’Connell, he covered my breasts with his dark calloused hands and pulled my body hard against his, riding the crest of his own orgasm and filling me with his heat. I collapsed onto the bed, boneless and sated, and he did the same, pulling me into his body.

“I can’t believe I get to do this forever,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I wake up and I see your beautiful hair spread across the pillow, and I think I’ve dreamt you. I’m too scared to go back to sleep, or leave for training, in case you disappear and then I remember that you’re mine, and suddenly it’s a brand new day.”

I didn’t have the words to tell him that I felt the same. If only maths was a language, you could speak, I’d be a poet.