She nods slowly. “I see,” she finally says. “Fair enough, then.” She chews her lip and then nods. “Okay, then. We fake my death. How?”
I hold her hand tighter as we make our plans.
* * *
She sleeps like a baby beside me that night, the day before we enact our plan. I hold her to me and dream of the plan we hatched. Car accident. A pronouncement that she’s found dead on arrival. Carson’s wife, clan cousin Megan, works at the hospital and has a friend who will aid us for a sum. We hold a funeral, we fake her death. Aisling has very few friends and family left who will mourn her passing.
And she’s got a new family here with us.
I expect she’ll be troubled by the plan, but she hasn’t looked this relaxed since she came here. I wonder why. I finally fall asleep myself.
The next morning, I wake with her between my legs, her mouth working wonders on my cock.
“Christ, woman,” I say, my words slurred from sleep. “What magic are you doing?”
“Giving you an early morning blow job,” she says with a wicked grin. “Any objection, sir?”
I groan as her tongue laps down the veined length.
“Just relax, Tiernan. You’ve earned this.”
“How?” I ask, my voice barely more than a groan.
She grins around my cock. “By being so bloody sexy.”
I reach for her hair and weave my fingers through it, tugging it just enough to elicit that little squeal and moan that vibrates straight through me. She cups my bollox and laps at the tip before she takes me fully in and sucks me hard.
“Jesus,” I groan. “Christtt…”
She moans, closes her eyes, and immerses fully in this, until I’m ready to come.
Her eyes meet mine in challenge, as I drag my cock out of her mouth. It feels so fucking good, but today I want to feel her wrapped around me. I want her pussy hugging my cock when I claim her.
“On your knees,” I groan. “Fucking now.”
She scrambles to get on her knees, and I give her arse a sharp slap before I drag my cock through her slick folds.
“Finger yourself,” I say, as I line my cock up at her entrance. “Fucking do it.”
She reaches for her pussy and strokes her clit, her back arching at the sudden pressure just as I impale her with my cock. She moans and grinds against me as I slam into her. I don’t hold back, but give her the full force of my hard cock. She doesn’t quake, but braces for every sharp thrust.
“Oh God,” she groans. “Tiernan, I’m going to come.”
“Ask me.”
“Please?”
Thrust.
Slap.
My handprint blooms against her pale white skin.
“Pleasseeee,” she moans.
I thrust again.
“Beg me. Tell me why you deserve it.”
She grips the bedclothes so tightly her knuckles whiten, and she pants as I thrust in and out of her.
“Because I love you!” her voice pitches off into a moan. “Because you love me.”
I brush her hair off her shoulder and kiss the sensitive skin.
“Good answer, Aisling. Come for me.”
She screams in release, spasms overtaking her as my own pleasure rips through me with the force of a tornado. Fuck, she’s so tight, so hot, so wet, gripping my cock as my come marks her. I close my eyes to the power of my climax as her own pleasure overtakes her until we’re panting and spent. My heart melts at the look of pure bliss on her beautiful face.
I pull out with reluctance, but we have to go.
“Soon,” I whisper in her ear. “We’ll do this again soon, and I’ll take you to places you’ve never been. I love you, Aisling.”
She sighs. “And I love you.”
“When our next job is done, I’ll have my way with you, until you’re boneless and fucking giddy.”
She rolls over and tangles herself in the sheets, drawing them up to her chin.
“Good,” she says. “I’m ready.”
“Are you? Ready for what?”
“Everything.”
Christ, I love how bold and fearless she can be. I don’t quite know why she’s embraced the idea of faking her death so well, but I’m glad she has.
The day passes in a blur while we make our plan. I send her to our room with the girls, and they make their plans.
Tonight we’ll fake her death.
We’ll have a funeral, a proper burial.
The world will know that Aisling is gone.
I’ll claim her. Put my ring on her finger. And her life as she knew it will be over. Her new life will begin.
Chapter 21
Aisling
I’m filled with nervous excitement as I pace the room. Maeve sits on the couch, her legs tucked under her. Caitlin’s taking large, decadent chocolate biscuits out of a white pastry box and lining them up on a plate. Fiona’s rubbing my shoulder, like I’m about to enter a ring.
“Megan says they’re good to go,” she says, looking at me seriously. “You ready to go, Ais?”
I nod and blow out a breath. “Aye.”
We’ve been here for hours while the Clan men orchestrated everything for tonight. We’ve chatted about babies and pregnancies, childbirth and teething, school and recipes and whether or not Keenan should get a tattoo with his wife and children’s names in the little space he has left on his back. Maeve has laughed and joked and chided and shared, made us excellent cups of tea, and Fiona’s poured us sparkling water from Paris, one of her favorite places to go with Lachlan on holiday. I’ve decided it’s best I don’t drink, and they’ve honored that.
But now it’s time.
“You look actually a little excited,” Caitlin notes in her bold, honest way.
I nod. “I am. I’m so ready to be another person.” I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. “The old Aisling dies tonight, girls.”
Maeve smiles at me proudly.
“Good lass,” she says. “It’s time to turn over a new leaf, isn’t it? And then after we’ve
