My fingers started to move with him.
He hissed as he pummeled deeper. “That’s it, Laney. You feel—oh,Christ—you feel sofucking good.”
“Don’t stop.” I was rocking with him now, chasing that now familiar ledge that fast approached. “Please don’t stop. I’m so—I’m so close again.”
“I know, baby. I know. Let go. I’ve got you.” Balanced on one arm now, he grasped my chin and delivered one more punishing kiss.
It was the final push I needed.
I came for the third time, moaning into his mouth, thrashing underneath his big body in a way that pulled him deeper. He followed with a shout and a bite of my lip before he buried his face in my neck and shook for several long seconds.
“Laney.” A drop of sweat slipped down his forehead and fell onto my shoulder.
“Ronan.” My voice was hoarse, like I’d been shouting for hours.
Eventually, he rolled to the side and slipped out to take care of the condom in my bathroom before returning to the bed. By the time he got back, I had managed to get under the covers, but only just.
“I’m staying the night,” he informed me as he pulled me onto his chest, urging my head over his heart.
There was no room for argument, and I found I didn’t have one as I nestled into his sweet, smoky scent.
Sleep beckoned, and I could tell by the gradual slowing of his heartbeat and breathing that it wasn’t long for him either. I allowed my eyes to shut, though part of me wanted to keep watching my ceiling or even steal a glance out the window.
The stars were out tonight, brighter than usual, even with the city lights.
It was silly, I knew, but part of me wanted to check that they were all there. And see if maybe, just like in the myth, another constellation had appeared with them. One story wasthat Dionysus, after falling in love with his wife, cast a tiara of stars into the heavens in her name.
Ronan Black wasn’t a god, but right now, it felt like he could do anything.
Even rearrange the stars. Just for me.
16
A DIFFERENT KIND OF PROPOSAL
RONAN
It was an eventful night, to say the least. Even with the little false start on the couch.
Funny enough, it hadn’t seemed to matter to either of us. I didn’t have to tell her that had never happened before—well, not since I was a thirteen-year-old kid watching Susanna O’Neill lifeguard at the pool. The thing was that with Laney Fisher, I didn’t feel the need to explain away anything at all. Being with her was totally natural, whether it was dancing at a party, kissing in the night, or, like now, just lying in bed together while the first glow of light appeared through her bedroom window.
She slept like a cat, curled to one side, with her hands scrunched under her chin like paws while her full lips pursed outward. Right now, she was burrowed into my side, where she’d been since our final romp sometime after three.
Not for the first time, I watched her sleep.
God, she was beautiful.
Not just physically, although that was still the case more than ever. But the more I got to know her, the more I recognized the pieces of her personality that made her, well,her. Quietkindness that made her the kind of person who could be a friend for decades. Intelligence that made her quick with her thoughts but careful with her words. Steadiness that most people would underestimate, but which I, with the chaos of my life, valued more than most.
She had freckles, light ones. I found myself wanting to trace them with my finger, like I was connecting the dots in a newspaper puzzle. Unable to help myself, I reached down to brush away an errant lock of near-black hair draped over her cheek.
Those bright green eyes blinked open before she gave the cutest yawn known to man. “I—oh. Good morning.”
I brushed another nonexistent lock out of her face just because I wanted to touch her again. “Morning, gorgeous.”
We just watched each other for a few moments before she looked down, seemed to realize she was naked, and pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts
I stuck out my lower lip.