How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(53)

His gaze burned hot. I swore the dark blue of his irises flashed black for a second when I said those words. “You love me?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I answered. “I love you, Dylan O’Dea. I always have.”

There was no stopping him then. He lifted my dress over my head, pulled down my tights and did away with my bra. I was left in nothing but my knickers, and he was still fully dressed. I glanced briefly at the unlocked door, hoping nobody decided to come find us. If they did, well, they were in for quite a shock.

I reached again for his buckle and this time he let me. A moment later his pants were pushed down over his hips and his cock was free. I pulled my knickers off and guided him into me. We both gasped at the sensation of being skin to skin. When he moved his hips, I moaned and bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet.

He caught my mouth and slid his tongue along mine, at the same time as he thrust inside me deeply. His eyes were open while he kissed me, taking in my every reaction. I grew so, so wet and his masculine sounds enveloped the room. He pulled away and gently clasped his hand around my neck. It was a possessive move, and every part of me pulsated with pleasure.

He drove us to dizzying heights, and when he saw on I was on the edge, he reached down between our bodies and brought me to orgasm with his fingers. I came while he was still inside me. He immediately bent and kissed my breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth and then the other. He lapped at me until I was ready to come all over again.

A deep, raspy groan escaped him, and I knew he was almost there. I made sure I was looking deep into his eyes when he came with a shuddering expletive. He pulled out and pressed his lips to my mouth, my jaw and neck. He peppered my entire body with kisses until there wasn’t an inch left untouched.

Dylan folded me in his arms, draped his shirt over our naked bodies and held me until we both fell asleep. I woke a little while later, warm from his arms around me but still chilly in the cold study. Dylan stirred, palming my breast and dipping his mouth to nibble on my ear.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

I batted his hand away. “We can’t. Everybody’s probably wondering where we’ve been.”

“Let them wonder. Your mine now.”

I let those words sink in. You’re mine now.

It was true. I was his, and he was mine. When he started kissing me again, I knew it was time to get dressed, otherwise we were in danger of spending the rest of the evening in here, and probably the night, too. Only a small portion of my brain insisted that wasn’t a good idea.

I swiped his hand away when he playfully pinched my hip, while I tried to put my clothes back on. I finally managed to get dressed and took a peek at myself in the small mirror on the wall, making sure I didn’t look too dishevelled.

Dylan took my hand in his and I tried to ignore those pesky butterflies he always managed to solicit. I’d be ninety and still feeling belly flutters when he looked at me.

He led me back out into the living room, where Yvonne and Conor sat on the couch watching TV. They sat just a little distance apart and it made me wonder if maybe they’d grown closer over the last day and a half. There was something between them now, something new, but I couldn’t quiet put my finger on it.

Tommy was napping on the armchair, while Bridget and Bethany played a game of Scrabble. I thought Conor’s parents must’ve gone downstairs for a rest.

Conor glanced from me to Dylan and then to our clasped hands. He let out a loud, “Well, it’s about time.” And we both laughed at his enthusiasm. Yvonne smiled in that fond way she did, coming to give me a small hug.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered in my ear, and it meant a lot to hear her say that. She was the only family I had left worth caring about.

We spent the rest of the evening playing board games, drinking wine and eating mince pies. When it was time for bed, I didn’t give a single protest as Dylan led me to his room, laid me down, and made love to me until my body ached in the most wonderful way.

Best. Christmas. Ever.





Chapter 17





“Marry me.”

“Shut up.”

“Ev, I’m being serious.”

“No, you’re not.”

Dylan flipped us so he was on top, the sheets tangled between us. It was early morning, the day after Christmas, and we’d hardly gotten a wink of sleep. I was fairly sure we woke half the house during the night, in spite of our efforts to stay quiet.

“You’re overtired and not thinking clearly. Give it a few hours,” I said, pulse thrumming.

On the inside, I felt manic, because there was a small part of me—okay, a big part—that wanted him to be serious. I was head over heels in love with him and his proposal made me feel a little crazy.

Like I might do something spontaneous.

Like actually say yes.

He looked deep into my eyes, cupped my cheeks and spoke with a quiet passion that sent my nerve endings tingling.

“I’ve spent so many years without you. I missed you every single day. I don’t want to spend a single second longer without you. Please, Ev, be my wife.”

My throat ran dry as I swallowed, emotion catching right in my epiglottis. “Okay,” I whispered.

He stared at me like he couldn’t believe he heard me right. “Okay?”

I smiled so wide my face hurt. “Okay, Dylan. Yes, I’ll marry you.”