Bargain with the Irish Devil

Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

M iranda

Our wedding day is better than I dreamed. Declan turned the backyard into a wonderland filled with so many flowers I don’t want to even think of what it costs.

The wedding is small, which I appreciate. I would never have been comfortable with a hundred guests. We only have a little more than fifty people in total.

Lydia is here with her husband and helped me get dressed. The dress was one she helped me pick out. It’s a frothy chiffon, beaded, and lace wedding dress that only needed minimal alterations to fit. Thankfully, Lydia knew someone who was willing to do them in the time I needed.

Brenna is also here with baby Kieran and a glowing Colm. I’ve talked with Brenna, and she apologized for her misunderstanding and the break it caused between me and Declan. But Declan refused to allow her to take the blame, telling her it was his own fault .

Aoife and her daughter are guests. As well as Dominic and Tony Sabatini. I’m introduced to a very large man, Milos Levin. He gives me the shivers, no matter how handsome he is, with his eerie yellow eyes and all-black suit, shirt, and tie. I’m almost positive his beard is hiding scarring from a gunshot wound. But don’t dare stare for long enough to confirm it.

I feel bad for being scared of Milos Levin when I find out it’s his private plane we use to visit Ireland to see Declan’s family. His gran, as she demands I call her, is a sweet woman. I’m buried under hand-knit sweaters and beautiful quilts to bring home.

We spent a week in Ireland. Then, a week on a beach in Greece. Both were fun—in very different ways.

When we get back to Chicago, I’m tasked with updating the house to whatever I want. At first, I feel self-conscious and worried Declan won’t like it until he gives me a spanking for not having gotten anything done in a week.

The check-in with the doctor goes well. But the best part is getting to see the 3D sonogram. This time, I don’t need anyone to point out what I’m supposed to be seeing. Although I am disappointed, it isn’t a whole lot bigger than it was the last time.

Aoife is a sweetheart, helping me decide to tackle the living room first. She also ensures I’m eating all the salmon I don’t like and my vitamins every day. I only eat broccoli in the broccoli cheddar soup she makes, which we have on a weekly basis. But I find myself loving the spinach souffle that she makes nearly every day.

It’s sweet the way she and Declan indulge me in all the little cravings that crop up. Declan finds himself at the grocery store and in the kitchen, often in the middle of the night. And gorgeous man that he is, he never complains once. In fact, I get a spanking when trying to ignore a craving for tiramisu that I wake up to at midnight.

Declan makes a call, and two pans of tiramisu arrive only twenty minutes later. I’m in heaven. When I—just once—worry about the way the sweets will end up on my thighs, Declan takes me in a greedy, painful showing of how much he loves my body and all the changes happening to it.

I decided to print out the pictures we took of his family and use them to put up around the house. I’m in the kitchen with Aoife, trying to decide the layout of the pictures, when Ryan comes in after Declan.

“Ryan is in need of some home-cooking, Aoife. He complained all morning. It’s been weeks since he had shepherd’s pie.” Declan shakes his head as he kisses my cheek.

“That one with Aisling and Poppy came out well.” Declan points at the picture of his cousin and her daughter.

Ryan looks over my shoulder, and I feel him go still. “Who is Poppy?”

Declan shrugs, “Aisling’s babe. I told you that Aisling had Poppy. Didn’t I? Her ma went ballistic. Kicked her out of the house and she went to live with my gran.”

I don’t miss the way Ryan has lost all color.

“I need to talk to you, Dec.” Then Ryan walks out of the room.

Uh oh. Declan is frozen, then his jaw hardens. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Watching Declan leave, I look to Aoife. “He isn’t going to really kill him, is he? ”

Aoife shakes her head. “Even though he deserves it, he won’t.”

“What? Why does Ryan deserve it?” I’m confused.

“Because he’s married.” Aoife nods at my gasp. “It’s a bad marriage. They haven’t lived together going on six or seven years now. Both of them hate each other. But still, he’s a married man. It’s the only reason why Declan picked Ryan to take Aisling around Chicago when she visited.”

“Should I?—”

“No, don’t think it. Let them be.” Aoife’s hand on my shoulder stills me.

Declan doesn’t kill Ryan, but his hand is bruised from multiple punches thrown.

The next few days are busy for Declan as he works to get ahold of Ryan’s wife, and the divorce is agreed on with Ryan’s father-in-law, who is unwilling to allow it to go through without financial compensation.

Aisling arrives determined to stay with us. And I’m happy to have her and her sweet daughter Poppy, but on the second day, Ryan arrives and carries her out of the house with Poppy trailing after them.

Almost a month later, while I’m sitting through the wedding ceremony for Ryan and Aisling, I come to the realization Declan isn’t much different than a small-town mayor, as I once thought he was. People have come up to him before the ceremony to share concerns and squabbles, and he’s promised to look into them.

While we were on our honeymoon, there was no issue with Ryan taking care of things because there weren’t any issues to be handled. Little by little, the fear I had of Declan’s life, and by extension, mine being a dangerous one, has eased until it’s all but gone.

Yet, as I’m being asked questions by the women as their men talk to Declan about my dress, where I’m shopping, and my pregnancy, it comes home to me that I have a role to play. One I’ve been neglecting.

The day after the wedding, I sit down with Aoife in the kitchen.

“Yes, dear. You’re looking serious.” Aoife sets down the snack she was encouraging me to eat, a spinach dip with thick, crusty bread.

“I was thinking, it feels like I should be doing more to support Declan’s place. Or am I wrong, and I should stay in the background?”

Aoife’s relief is clear. “Oh, thank goodness. Yes, my dear. I was so worried. While I wanted to say something I’m aware of how shy you are and your own concern over your pregnancy. It’s why Orla and Brenna were picked as probable women for Declan. They were raised to know they needed to be a part of the community and suffering with our old customs and ideals.”

I’m stunned. “Brenna was supposed to be with Declan?”

Her wince tells me all I need to know. “Yes, but my dear they only met all of two times. Declan wasn’t interested in the girl. I was so grateful when Declan showed interest in you. Brenna would not have fit him at all the way you do.”

“Did they…”

“Dear, they had a conversation in a coffee shop and lunch once. He didn’t even kiss the girl. Don’t be resenting her or him for a bad idea they abandoned before it got very far at all. ”

Giving in, I nod. “Okay, so… What should I do? And how do I do it?”

“I believe it starts with the wives of Declan’s men. We’ll have them around and do more of an introduction than you’ve had so far. You will be much like Declan. Listen to their concerns and complaints. Then you take them to Declan, if there is something that can be done to help them or you want to help them, you let Declan know, He’ll tell you what to do or take care of the matter himself.”

Aoife sets a date for almost two weeks from the day. Once Aisling is back from her honeymoon.

When I talk to Declan about it that night, his head falls to mine. “Thank you. I appreciate you more than you could ever know.”

“Even more than you would have been if you’d married Brenna?” I ask.

He sighs and closes his eyes. When he opens them, they’re glowing a fierce bright blue. He nudges his head deeper into mine. “I didn’t want her. And she didn’t want me. All she wanted was a means to have a family and stay in Chicago instead of going back to Ireland. We both were a means to an end for each other.”

A means to an end? What did Declan want… “You wanted a family.”

His hand goes around my neck. “Yes, I wanted a family. But it’s like I said. If the choice was between you or a child—I pick you every damn time.”

He wanted a family. I told him, because I believed I couldn’t, that I couldn’t have children. And he still picked me over her. “ M’fhiorghra.” I whisper .

“From the first moment I met you, m’fhiorghra.”

It isn’t until five months along after our appointment to confirm the baby’s sex that we have our first argument. I was certain it was a boy, and although the remarkably clear sonograms we’ve been getting might have shown it last month, the baby wouldn’t cooperate.

At our appointment, it’s confirmed I was right.

“And we have a boy.” The woman sonographer declares, even if we could clearly see for ourselves.

Declan sighs.

I smile up at him. “I told you.”

Shaking his head, he chuckles. “Aye, you did.”

Once we’re home, he urges me up the stairs. “It’s time for your nap. You didn’t sleep last night. Now that it’s confirmed, you can redo the guest room for your boy.”

I hesitate. “What’s the rush?”

“Love, it’s silly to wait to redo the room. What are we going to bring him home to? He needs the basics, at least. I don’t want you worrying about paint colors with a new baby in the house.”

“I’m silly? It’s silly for you to listen to my fears and not at least give it a few more months?” I’m so annoyed I want to hit him.

Sighing, he attempts to put his hands on my arms. I’m too pissed and back away into our bedroom, as far away from our bed as I can get. “I’m mad at you. Don’t do that thing you do. ”

“Miranda, the sonograms have been great. He is perfect. You’re out of the first trimester. Why can’t you let yourself believe in this?”

I sag into him. When his arms go around me, I welcome how tight they are. The fear of losing the baby has passed. But I can’t explain why I feel something is still off about my pregnancy—it’s nothing I can even pinpoint myself. If I say it, he’ll think I’m crazy.

“Okay,” I give in. “How mad are you that it’s not a girl?”

“I’m not mad. Just disappointed.” He assures me. “You need to be in bed. Aoife told me you didn’t take your nap today.”

“She’s such a snitch. I laid down.” I defend myself. “I was just worried what you’d think about it being a boy.”

“No need for you to be worried. It’s fine. Hopefully, we’ll get a girl next time.”

“I’ll go to bed if you do too.” I run my hand down his chest.

He sighs as he backs away. “No, love. Just you.”

His rejection is as painful as if he smacked me. I blink back the tears. It’s already happening. I don’t know why I thought I’d have more time.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Declan tries to touch me, and I push him away. Hating the idea of his hands on me.

“Whatever. Go away.”

“What the hell is the matter with you?” His hand is rough around my arm.

“What’s the matter is if you’re going to fuck around now, then just go. No reason to?— ”

Eyes wide with shock and anger, he pulls me up against him. “Fuck around? Have you lost your mind? I haven’t touched another woman since I laid eyes on you. Jesus, Miranda. I would never do that to you. How the hell do you think I could?” His hands are around my arms, refusing to let me hide. “Look at me, damn it.”

“Right. Whatever. You don’t touch me. You’re out of bed before I wake up. Fine. You didn’t like the idea of going without sex—I got the message loud and clear.” I can’t look him in the eyes. I’m swiping at the tears I hate he’s seeing.

His hands are wrapped around my arms, holding me in place. “Hey, look at me. I’m not a fucking teenager who can’t go a few months without getting his dick wet. With all the changes your body is going through, I find you so fucking sexy I can’t keep my hands off you. Don’t you remember a few weeks ago, when I kept you up all night? I’m trying to not be a lecher and give you some damn room. You fell asleep. I had no idea—I felt like a fucking rapist…”

Oh my god. I remember now. He was quiet for a few days after that, and that’s when it started. I had no idea he felt that way. “I told you?—”

“And I know, I get it. You swore you weren’t asleep for more than a few minutes, but it felt wrong. I’ve been trying to wait until you instigated.”

“I just did. And you back away. I was sure you didn’t find me sexy anymore.”

“But to go to thinking I could touch another woman?” He’s still hurt.

I shrug helplessly. “Nothing good lasts. ”

Sighing, his hands slide around me and tighten until I’m pressed into him. “Hey, look at me. We’re not good. We’re amazing. We are the other’s destiny, and our story only ends when one or both of us are gone. We will last. Trust in me. Trust in us.”

I nod and nuzzle into him. Embarrassed and so very grateful for him. “Declan Kelly, if you had asked me, I would have begged you to make love to me in the morning. Please don’t worry. I was worried you didn’t want me that my stomach and I’m too big?—”

One shoulder goes up. “After all night holding you, it kills me not having you in the morning, and it seems like mornings are hardest on you. The doctor told me women get needy around now. But I want you all the damn time. You are so fucking sexy. If I could spend all day in bed with you, I would.” He leans down and kisses my stomach. “I did this. Your body has changed because of me. And there is nothing sexier than that. I love how free you’ve become. I was worried I was taking advantage of you.”

I’m picked up and put down on the bed. Relief fills me when he follows me down. Widening my legs for his large body, I can’t keep the gasp in at what his thickening cock does to me as he settles into the cradle of my body.

“It’s only taking advantage if I don’t get anything in return. Me getting you is all I want.” I run a hand over his face. The way he leans into my touch twists me up inside. “I’m going to need you to show me.”

His smile becomes so wicked. “I will, and from now on, you’re the one to initiate sex. Wherever, whenever, it has to be up to you.”

If he means it, then I envision an erotic and thrilling next few months. “In that case, I need you right now. ”

Blue deepens and churns into a rough ocean. “Whatever my wife wants, she gets.”

Every time he calls me his wife, a zip of electricity runs over every nerve in my body. He always says it with pride, smugness, and an ownership that the tiny feminist in me screams is so wrong to love.

In a flash, he’s on his knees. The sundress I’m wearing disappears from my body in seconds. His tongue runs over his lips in a wolfish manner that should scare me but only sends a flood of wet heat to my core at what it promises.

A groan slides from him as his eyes cling to my body. “So fucking sexy. Every inch of you.”

Rough hands squeeze my hips as his mouth presses against the base of my neck, where my heart is pounding. With one flick of his wrist, the silk and chiffon bra I’m wearing is open. Nipples tighten almost to the point of pain from his eyes alone.

“It feels so wrong to love how your breasts have changed, not only loving how you’ve grown but the way you’ve darkened and—” his mouth is greedy. There is no teasing as he opens as wide as he can and takes all the flesh he can fit into the hot cavern of his mouth and sucks.

Oh god. Oh god. As the weeks have passed, everything has grown more sensitive, from the skin across my fingertips to my nipples. I’ve come six or seven times from his mouth on my breasts when I only had once since the first time he did it. The whimpers escaping me fill the room around us until they become cries.

Deeper and deeper, he sucks until I’m right there on the edge. When he stops, I can’t contain the scream of anger. His chuckle is cruel as he moves to my other breast .

Harder, fuck yes. Please more.

His hum of pleasure adds to mine, and I crash hard into the waves of pleasure. I want them to carry me away on them, only his mouth sucking deeper keeps me trapped in the overwhelming pleasure .

It’s too much. Please, no. Oh god .

“Come for me, damn it. I need to see it again.” He growls low in his chest before two fingers press deep into me, finding that glorious spot. At the same time, his thumb runs over the tight bundle of nerves.

The waves are scalding as they wash over me.

I’m coming down, drifting in the waves of pleasure when I feel the slick head of his cock running over my lips.

“Your mouth, love. I’m not going to last long. Let me in.” Is tight with need.

I open my mouth. Deep, so damn deep, he thrusts his cock. I’m gagging, but don’t dare try to push him away. I want this. I want to give him the pleasure he gives me. I’m working to get him down my throat. We both moan when he’s in.

“Fuck. Fuck. What you do to me.” I don’t understand his anger—until I remember he hates being out of control. And holy shit he’s out of control as he ravages my throat.

I don’t care if it’s wrong. I love the way he’s savage. The way he’s clearly desperate for control and can’t find it. Adding to his pleasure and mine, I moan low and hum around his cock. With a litany of curses in English, Irish, and, I think, Italian, he comes down my throat .

“God damn it, Miranda. How do you do that to me?” He moans as he slides out of my throat and mouth.

Like I always do, I suck as he’s almost out to taste the last of his come. And we both moan.

Our son is doing flips inside me. My hand goes to my stomach.

Declan’s hand covers mine. “All right, love?”

I nod. Sliding my hand out from under his, I press it down harder than he had ever felt safe doing before—when I asked him to in the last few weeks. “Can you feel him? He’s flipping around in there. Oh, ow, now he’s kicking.”

The awe on Declan’s face is something I will never forget. “I can feel him. The little bugger is kicking up a storm.” His laugh is rich and brings out a smile in me. “He’s going to have to get used to it. Something tells me his mommy is about to be a greedy girl.”

I pull his mouth to mine. “Very greedy. I need you inside me.”

His kiss is sweet at first. Yet in only seconds, he sends the world spinning around us until it blurs into nothing. It’s just us in this big, wide world. Only Declan matters—the pounding of his heart beneath my hand, the taste of his need, and the love I feel in his touch.

The nudge of his knee between my thighs is a cruel fiction because it’s not his cock at my lower lips, it’s his fingers. Using the moisture on his finger, he coats a tight nipple. “I hate the idea of sharing this with anyone, my wain or not.”

Hot, so hot, his tongue tastes the slick wetness off me. “ Delicious . It’s wrong. It has to be wrong to love the changes this much.”

Down his mouth trails over my stomach, cradling me beneath the mound of our son. His kiss is merely the press of his lips to where he felt the kick. Rough hands go to my hips, his mouth finds my lower lips, and that velvet tongue slides along the seam of me.

“Even this is different, sweeter, tangy, so fucking good.” He murmurs low as his tongue laps at me. Deeper and deeper, that velvet tongue becomes a torture device. Until I want to scream for more—more of his tongue, of his fingers—just more .

Finally, his fingers are there, fucking into me. Powerfully, deep, so damn deep. No, I want his cock. I need his cock. Please. Please. Please .

It’s there, yes. Yes, his cock is thrusting inside me with a force that catches my breath and holds it suspended. Oh god. So fucking good.

Harder, fuck me harder it’s been too long. Two days that have felt endless. Fuck me harder. Please Declan. I need all of you.

Every plea is answered. Every need is fulfilled. And oh god the sun bursts into a million pieces, hitting me, burning me, turning me into tiny pieces of fire.

When he comes inside me, the wet heat shocks me into the moment. Into the feeling of Declan all around me, holding me close as we both shake and tremble from our orgasm.

This moment is always the best one. From deep inside me, our hearts beat in perfect timing. Soothing the tumult inside me. This is ours, Declan’s, and mine. He didn’t lie. We aren’t good. We’re amazing. We are the other’s destiny, and our story only ends when one or both of us are gone. We will last forever.

I believe in him. In us.