Page 100 of Forget
“I like Domnhall’s crazy,” Aisling purrs, turning in my direction.
“God, you’re a dream come true, Sugar,” I murmur. “I need a cuddle, please.”
Standing smoothly, she walks the short distance to sit in my lap. Wrapping her arms around my neck, her fingers play with the shorter hair there. Her eyes are hooded, and I can see that there’s a small bead of sweat along her hairline. Fuck, she’s not in full blown heat yet, but it’s banked for the moment.
“Hi,” she whispers.
Dragging my hand up her leg, I squeeze her thigh. There’s a slit in her skirt, so my fingers trail higher until I can touch the knife Aiden so foolishly left her. Her stockings are different today, and I can also feel her skin above the top of them. Hmm. Maybe I won’t have to cut them off of her tonight.
“Hi yourself,” I murmur. “Can I show the boys your pretty knife?”
“As long as I get it back,” she says. “I’m kind of attached to that one.”
Dragging my tongue up her neck, I moan. “Fuck me. You taste like my favorite dessert. I want to throw you on the table and bury my face in your cunt.”
“Why can’t you again?” Aisling asks, looking dazed as I pull her knife from its usual strapped place against her thigh. Handing it to Caelin, I decide to indulge in a kiss.
Arm wrapping around her back, I tangle my fingers in her hair.
“You’re right,” I murmur. “There’s no reason I can’t when you’re mine and always have been.”
Kissing her hard, I suck on her tongue. It’s a filthy kiss, one that’s chaotic with a tug and pull between us. We both want to win something that neither of us can explain, but we need it.
“Where did you get this knife, poppet?” Caelin asks, pulling my girl’s attention away. I make a face at him, but his attention is on the knife.
I mentioned the pretty knife she has, but can’t remember if I told them who it belongs to.
“Some jackhole who hurt me,” she says sweetly. “Why?”
“It’s a beautiful knife is all,” he murmurs. “Can I kill him for hurting you?”
Evan leans over to pluck the knife from Caelin, frowning as he looks down at the handle.
“Dad says he needs him,” Aisling sighs. “He helped me fix my nest today because Hayes was pissing him off.”
Evan glances up at me, worry in his gaze. Yeah, this is why Aiden couldn’t be here. Instead, he’s pacing the house, probably grumbling to himself.
Aisling whimpers, plastering her body to mine as she shoves her nose in my throat and breathes deeply.
“Why isn’t this working?” she whispers.
“What’s wrong, baby? Can we fix it?” I ask, knowing it’s a loaded question. I’m leading her in an effort to get her to tell me. I don’t often ask a question I don’t know the answer to. I usually know already.
Though, Aisling keeps surprising me.
“It hurts,” she mutters. “I don’t want to go yet.”
“Sugar, we never want you to leave us,” I growl. “Mine and ours, remember?”
“But I’m… a mess,” Aisling says, raising her face to look at me. Tears are glistening in her beautiful green eyes. They almost look like emeralds right now.
“A fucking gorgeous mess,” Caelin says. “We all are on some level, poppet. All that matters is that you’re ours. I promise. I know it doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m worried because it does make sense,” she says. “Tell me something real.”
“I’ve known you were mine for the past two and a half months, poppet,” he growls. “Ever since you ran into me after that terrible date. You don’t need this dating app, Aisling. We have a chance to be whole. Domh has known ever since you broke shit together at the rage room. No more hiding.”
“No more,” she whispers, eyes closing as her body collapses in pain. It’s as if someone pulled strings to tug her violently in half. Fuck.