30. Liam

Chapter thirty

Liam

I normally spend my days here working—but with Shiloh, I’m playing tourist.

And it’s actually… fun.

"Hey, you're not having wine?" I ask her as we sit down in a local restaurant that boasts the best seafood on the island.

The place is cozy, wrapped in the warm glow of twinkle lights and filled with the soft murmur of other diners. The sun has just begun to set, painting the island in vivid autumn tones.

Shiloh glances at her glass of water and then up at me, her eyes holding that spark I've come to adore. "I'm just not feeling it tonight." She shrugs, but there’s a tired edge to her voice that prickles my concern.

"Sure you're okay?" I lean forward, searching her face for signs of the illness she'd been fighting off before we came here.

She gives me a reassuring smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, just enjoying the food more without it, you know?"

I'm not convinced, but I let it go. For now.

As we walk back to the house after dinner, the question burning inside me feels like it might just leap off my tongue. Dublin. Shiloh's dream of studying at Trinity College, and suddenly, my dream too.

But can I really ask her to move to another country with me? It's been a whirlwind since she stumbled into my world—or crashed back into it, more accurately. Each day with her only cements what I already know—I want her in every part of my life.

Hand in hand, we stroll along the beach, the crunch of sand under our feet syncing with the rhythmic crash of waves. Autumn's touch has painted the leaves a brilliant gold, creating a striking pathway to our right.

To our left, the sea mirrors the sunset, glistening like a jeweled blanket over the earth. It's breathtaking, this scene, and I find myself caught between two desires: to share my whole world with Shiloh or to preserve this perfect moment without the weight of my confession.

"Thinking about Trinity?" I venture, hoping to steer us toward the topic of the future—a future I desperately want to be part of.

Shiloh nods, casting her gaze toward the horizon. "Yeah, Dublin seems so real now. I guess I'll just move in with Nadia. It’s what we always talked about.”

Her words feel like a punch to the gut. Nadia is her friend from college, the one with the apartment near Trinity. My grip on her hand tightens ever so slightly, but I keep my face neutral. She's young and full of life, and she should experience everything that comes her way—even if it means living with someone else, even if it means stepping away from me.

Even if she doesn’t want me to live with her, I can still visit.

"What do you think Chris would say about all this?" I ask, changing the subject.

That’s another thing that’s been on my mind—Thanksgiving. She’d mentioned that Chris discouraged her from applying to graduate school, and it feels like a major victory for her to have gotten in.

Shiloh laughs, a sound that seems to dance with the sea breeze. "Chris? He always said I wasn't smart enough to do... well, anything really." She shrugs, and I feel the sting of her words. "I don't know how he'd even find out."

"Actually," I start, heart beating a little faster, "that's what I wanted to ask you about. Thanksgiving dinner at my father’s house. I want you there, with me." My voice is steady, but there's an undercurrent of something else—hope, fear, maybe both.

"Thanksgiving?" Her eyebrows rise in surprise, and her pace slows as she turns to face me. "With your family?"

"Okay... why?" Her voice carries an edge of disbelief, and she looks like she's bracing herself for a punchline that will never come.

"Because you're a diamond, Shiloh," I say with conviction, my hands finding hers. "You've always been one. And Chris is a fool who didn't see it." My grip tightens as I draw in a deep breath, ready to lay it all on the line. "And because that dinner, two years ago, was when I realized something important about you."

Her eyes lock onto mine, wide and expectant. The moment feels charged, the air around us almost crackling with the weight of my next words.

"That's where I fell in love with you, Shiloh." The admission is a risk, but it feels right—like it's been sitting at the tip of my tongue, just waiting for this perfect, raw moment.

We’ve reached the stretch of beach just outside my house, where waves lazily kiss the shore, and seagulls cry their harsh lullabies. The sun dips lower, casting us in a soft, golden hue. Shiloh turns to me, her hand still locked in mine, her eyes reflecting the fading light.

"Did you really fall in love with me back then?" she asks, her voice a mix of wonder and vulnerability.

I don't hesitate.

"Yes," I say, and it feels like a vow. My hands slide from hers to her hips, traveling up her sides, memorizing every curve as if for the first time. "Your charm, your smile, your mind," I list, each word imbued with the depth of my feelings. "You captivated me completely."

My thumbs brush against the fabric of her shirt, tracing the outline of her body beneath. "And your body," I confess, looking into her eyes, needing her to see the truth in mine. "I fell for that too. For the idea of showing you off, of letting everyone know you belong with me." It's raw, this need to claim her, to mark her as mine in the eyes of the world.

"Back at the office, when you walked in, I was cruel because..." I trail off, searching for the words to explain how her very presence tilted my universe. "Because you've floored me. You knocked my world off its axis." I draw her closer until there's barely any space left between us. "Now, my world revolves around you, Shiloh."

Her reaction is immediate and intense. She gasps, a sharp intake of air that seems to fill the space around us with its significance. Then she's up on her tiptoes, her lips finding mine in a kiss that starts sweet and quickly deepens. "I love you," she murmurs between kisses. "I love you too."

My heart clenches at her words, every kiss sealing those words. The world falls away until it's just Shiloh and me, our hearts beating in tandem. I wrap my arms around her tighter; the need to protect her, to keep her close, overpowering.

The kiss grows hotter, more passionate. I'm lost in the feel of her lips, the taste of her mouth. My hands roam her back, drawing her even closer if that's possible. A voice inside me shouts, a voice filled with conviction and longing, demanding that I make this forever.

I want to get down on my knees right here on this beach, with the autumn leaves and the glittering sea as witnesses, and beg her to be mine for good. I don't just want a fling or a brief affair; I want her as my partner, my equal, my everything.

The realization hits me like a wave: I'm going to propose. And I'm going to do it as soon as humanly possible. Because a life without Shiloh isn't something I want to contemplate. She's the dream I didn't dare to have, but now, she's my reality, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her.

Lifting Shiloh into my arms, a burst of laughter escapes her, the sound like music to my ears. Her joy is infectious, and I can't help but grin as I trudge through the sand, feeling its grainy texture against my foot. The door closes behind us with a soft thud, muted by the sand that clings to my skin.

"Watch your head," I murmur as we navigate the narrow hallway, her smile never fading. It's a perfect moment, one I'll lock away in my memory forever.

When I gently set her down on the bed, her laugh still echoes in the room. I step back, pulling my sweater over my head and tossing it aside, followed by my shirt, which joins the growing pile of discarded clothing.

On my knees now, the space between us is charged with an energy that has become familiar, yet it thrills me every time. My fingers work the buttons of her oversized flannel, each one slipping free effortlessly until the fabric falls open to reveal a delicate bralette hugging her curves.

These damn things always drove me crazy when she’s come into the office wearing one under her blouse… now, I love them.

Because she’s mine.

Leaning in, my lips find the lace-covered peaks, and she moans—a sound of pure pleasure that sends a jolt straight to my core. But as I grow bolder, her hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Be gentle," she whispers, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "I'm sensitive."

I nod, my breath hitching with the weight of her trust. I retreat to her lips, pressing mine softly against hers, feeling the heat radiate between us. My hands move with purpose, fingers tracing the delicate line of her spine until they find the clasp of her bra. It gives way under my touch, and the bralette falls away, leaving her bare beneath me.

"Shiloh," I breathe out, my voice rough with desire as I lean down once more.

This time, my mouth is tender on her skin, suckling at her nipples with the softness she craves. Her response is immediate—she groans, a deep, guttural sound that fills the room and wraps around me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me to explore further.

I can't deny her; I can't deny myself.

With a growl of need, my hands slip to her waist, fingers hooking into the band of her leggings and panties. A quick tug and the last barriers between us are gone. She's exposed, vulnerable, and achingly beautiful.

I lower my head, my mouth hovering just above the sweetest part of her. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating, overwhelming. I can't wait any longer—I dive in, my tongue flickering out to taste her. She's exquisite, addictive, everything.

"God, yes..." she breathes out as my mouth works its magic. Her legs fall open wider, an invitation I accept without hesitation. I hold her inner thighs gently but firmly, refusing to let anything interrupt this moment. My lips kiss her, then my tongue swirls around her clit, drawing soft, desperate cries from her lips.

"Please, don't stop," Shiloh begs, her voice laced with pleasure and need.

I wouldn't dream of it.

Her hips rock up toward me, her body seeking more of the pleasure I'm giving her. I oblige, knowing exactly how she likes it. The pressure builds inside her, and then it crests, washing over her in a tidal wave of release.

She cries out, a sound so raw and pure that it echoes off the walls. It's the sound of her freedom, her pleasure, her trust in me to take her to these heights.

"Scream for me, Shiloh," I urge, my voice rough with my own arousal. "Let me know how good it feels."

She does, again and again, until her voice breaks and her body shudders beneath my mouth. No secrets between us, not anymore—not when we're this close, not when I've stripped away everything but her ecstasy.

I rise from my knees, my hands shaking slightly as I fumble with the button on my pants. Her eyes follow every movement, dark with desire and something deeper, something that ties my stomach in knots and makes my heart feel like it's about to burst through my chest.

I shed my pants, kicking them aside, and she crawls backward toward the pillows. Our gazes lock—a silent conversation in the space between us. I follow her, each movement fueled by the magnetic pull of her presence.

Once she's against the pillows, I box her in with my elbows, our breaths mingling in the charged air. My eyes stay locked on hers, reading every flicker of emotion, every hint of need. And then, with a steadiness that belies the storm raging inside me, I slide into her.

"Shiloh..." It's all I can manage—a whisper that's both a prayer and a claim.

She holds my gaze, her eyes reflecting back all the love and desperation I feel for her. This is where I belong—in this embrace, in the warmth of her body, in the unspoken promises we make with each touch, each breath, each heartbeat.

"Shiloh," I repeat because her name is a talisman against the chaos of the world… saying it anchors me to the most real thing I've ever known—us.

Her response comes not in words but in a soft groan that vibrates through me as we join, her body welcoming me home. It's an indescribable sensation, one that transcends pleasure and touches something primal, something sacred.

I love her so much it hurts. The thought of proposing to her right now flashes through my mind—a fierce, sudden urge to lock down this certainty, to claim her for life.

But the words get stuck somewhere on their way out, choked by the overwhelming tide of emotion that swells within me.

Instead, I lower my mouth to hers, our lips meeting in a kiss that speaks volumes more than any ring or vow could. My hands roam over her, memorizing every curve, every line of her body as if I'm afraid she'll vanish if I don't hold onto her tightly enough.

"Shiloh," I breathe against her lips, my voice rough with need and something akin to awe. "God, Shiloh."

In these moments, nothing else exists—no past mistakes, no uncertain future, just Shiloh and me and the undeniable truth that we're meant to be. I kiss her deeply, pouring all my unsaid words, all my hopes and dreams, into the connection that binds us together.

I move inside her at a desperate pace, every thrust met with her hips rising to meet mine. This isn't just fucking; it's claiming and being claimed, giving and receiving, a communion of bodies and souls.

"Yes," she whispers, her voice laced with want and affection.

Her hands dig into my back, nails leaving trails of fire that only spur me on. She is the sun in my gray world, the bright spark of joy amidst the shadows of my life. We climb higher together, chasing that peak, that sweet release that waits for us just on the horizon.

And then we're there, crying out in unison as pleasure crashes over us like a wave, sweeping us away from the shore into the depths of blissful oblivion. For a few heartbeats, we're suspended in time, lost in each other, and nothing else matters.

As we come down from the high, our breathing slows, and our hearts still race, yet perfectly in sync. We curl up together, limbs tangled, her head resting on my chest. I stroke her hair, feeling its softness between my fingers. This is what peace feels like; this is what home feels like.

"Shiloh," I whisper into the quiet room, though she's already drifting off to sleep against me. "You're my everything."

She murmurs something unintelligible but content, nuzzling closer as if she could burrow into my very soul. And maybe she can because she's already there, etched into every part of me.

Lying there, with the woman I love more than life itself, I make a silent vow. Tomorrow, I'll buy a ring—an outward sign of the bond we already share—and I'll ask her to be mine forever.

But for now, I hold her close, letting the steady rhythm of her heartbeat lull me into a sense of serenity I've never known before. This is bliss, pure and simple, and I'm not letting go.

Not now, not ever.