“To my parful wife, thank you for makin’ today one of the best days of my life.”
We clink glasses.
The French champagne is delicious, but when I see the array of food Aine packed, I swap the booze for the homemade onion and goat’s cheese tarts.
Punky and I eat happily in silence, enjoying not only the food but our company as well. We haven’t had a day when we’ve focused solely on us, so it’s nice to get away—even for a few hours. I’m not sure when we’ll have the opportunity again, so I try not to think about what tomorrow holds.
But Punky can read me like a book. “It’s goin’ to be all right. We’re goin’ to be all right.”
I want to believe him, but history proves that a curveball is always around the corner.
With my appetite shot, I reach for my glass of champagne and toss it back quickly. I wish I could conceal my feelings better, but I can’t hide anything from Punky.
“Let’s go for a swim.”
He stands, taking me with him as he walks us toward the lake’s edge. I’m holding him tightly, never feeling safer than I do right now.
“I don’t want to ruin yer pretty dress,” he says, lowering my feet to the ground.
He doesn’t hesitate and kicks off his socks and boots before unfastening the buttons on his shirt. When it parts and his smooth flesh is exposed, I forget to swallow. He slips it off while I stand motionless, ogling my very hot husband.
The sunlight illuminates him in a way that’s almost godlike, and that’s because he is—my own personal god.
He pauses from undoing his fly when he notices I’m still dressed. He stands before me with the top button of his jeans undone, revealing his defined V muscle and that soft trail of hair leading from his navel down into his pants.
My mouth waters because I know where it leads.
“See anythin’ ya like then?” he teases, his muscled body taunting me as much as his words.
I’m like a kid in a candy store because I don’t know where to start. Every part of him is delicious, and I want to taste it all.
Without thought, I slip my dress over my head and stand before Punky in my underwear and bra. It’s nothing fancy, but the way those piercing blue eyes eat me up from head to toe, you’d think I was in expensive French lingerie.
Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra, but I hold the cups to my breasts, keeping them concealed. Punky grins, a promise of things to come.
He takes off his jeans, allowing me to see his huge hard-on. I remove my hands, the bra falling to the grass. Now, we’re both topless.
His cock jerks as he examines me slowly and instinctively, and I rub my thighs together because I am so turned on. When he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs and lowers them a few inches, a whimper escapes me because the unseen is just as hot as seeing him naked.
He turns around and removes his underwear, gracing me with the sight of his glorious ass. It’s firm and rounded, and I swear to God, every part of him looks to be carved from marble. His back is just as sexy as his front, and I watch as he enters the water, submerging himself fully.
It’s sensory overload when he re-emerges, wet and oh-so fucking hot.
His biceps ripple as he runs his hands through his long hair. I am envious of every water drop clinging to his skin. I want to be each one, slipping and sliding through a muscled heaven. He beckons me to join him with a curl of his finger.
I am in so much trouble.
I relish in the mayhem and take off my underwear. The water is cool and invigorating as I dip my toes in. Punky watches me, skimming the water with his hands. How I wish those hands were all over me, in me.
“C’mere to me.”
His smooth accent is like an electrical shock to my core, and I do as he commands.
The water isn’t deep, so we’re submerged to our waists. Punky reaches out and wraps an arm around me, drawing me toward him. We are inches apart, our lips a hair’s breadth away.
“Yer shakin’,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. “Are ye cold?”
“No,” I reply, leaning into his touch.
“Then what’s the matter?”
I wish I could forget that tomorrow has the potential to take all of this away. “I’m worried about tomorrow. I know we have the numbers on our side, but I can’t help but feel a plot twist looms.”
“Whatever happens, we have one another. Always. And forever.” He links our left hands together, our rings united.
“Do you think we will win?”
“There’s never a winner in war,” he wisely says. “But come nightfall, we’ll be free.”
I don’t know in what sense he means, and that’s what scares me.
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. No self-sacrifice bullshit.”
He smirks. “Define stupid ’cause our standards may differ.”
I playfully slap his chest. “I’m serious, Puck. Please don’t do anything that will tear us apart. You have a tendency to put everyone’s needs before your own. All I ask is that tomorrow, you put us first.”
I know it’s a big ask, and I’m being incredibly selfish, but I won’t stand back and watch him sacrifice himself, which he has a tendency to do.
“I’ll try my best,” he confesses, which isn’t promising. But it’s honest. “My hope is that tomorrow, I’m able to say goodbye to the past. Northern Ireland will have a new leader, and you and I, we will have the world.”
I understand this is his choice, but I still think it’s the wrong one. This country runs through his blood and I don’t think he will be able to give it up as easily as he thinks. Which leads us to another problem—the deal he made with the Russian drug lord was sealed in blood.
“But—”
“Enough talkin’,” Punky says, leaning down to kiss over my throat.
It’s a sweet distraction. “Don’t you dare leave me,” I warn, threading my fingers through his wet hair.
“I would never,” he promises, laying a trail of kisses down my neck and over my chest. “I just made an honest woman out of ye.”
A chuckle turns into a moan when he takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. I arch back, granting him permission to devour me whole, and he does. His hands and mouth work in unison, touching and sucking to send me over the edge.
I grip his shaft and stroke him, the water a perfect lubricant as I jerk him off. I will never tire of him. I’ll never have my fill because no matter how much he gives, I always want more.
We savor each other, taking our time to explore, but when Punky lifts me, supporting my weight as he suspends me over his cock, I know we’re both impatient for more.
He rubs me over his cock, teasing me as he inches his head in and out of my sex. My greedy muscles beg for more.
“You want more, wife?”
“I want so much more, husband.”
He grins, both of us appearing to cherish our new titles immensely.
“All right, Baby. Hold on tight.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, shuddering as he enters me painfully slow. He controls the speed, which, to my surprise, is slow. Usually, we’re caught up in a frantic sweaty mess, but this is different. Punky allows me to feel every hard inch of him, and when he hits the hilt, he doesn’t move.