I cry quietly in the bath, wishing things could be different, cursing my fragile heart for falling for someone I can’t have. Even if there were a way for me to stay in Ireland, Dillon probably won’t be here for much longer. Toxic Gods is going places. It’s only a matter of time before his star explodes, and I can’t go through that whole scene again.
I’ve got to let him go. For his sake and mine.
I just don’t know how I’m going to do it.
“Don’t peek,” Dillon says a couple of hours later, leading me up the stairs to the roof with his hand over my eyes.
“I’m not,” I lie, totally trying to squint through the gap in his fingers to see what he’s done.
He brings us to a halt and removes his hand. “Surprise.”
58
“Dillon,” I whisper, staring in amazement at the small marquee erected on the roof. Strings of colored lights decorate the interior, and the floor is covered in a myriad of vibrant patterned beanbags and large cushions. In the center is a low glossy black table set with candles and silverware. Incense wafts through the air from a few diffusers set up around the space. In the corner, a narrow rectangular table holds plates and covered silver platters.
“Do you like it?” he asks, and I realize I haven’t said more than his name. He looks at me with so much vulnerability, and he seems so young in this moment, so unsure of himself.
I clutch his arm, smiling up at him. “I love it. This is amazing.” I skim my eyes over his black button-up shirt and black pants, and my mouth waters. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled to the elbows, highlighting his gorgeous, strong muscular arms. He’s tan from spending so much time outside with me this summer, and it looks good on him. “As are you.” Grabbing his biceps, I press a long, lingering kiss on his lips. “You look so freaking hot.”
Leading me inside, he kneels to remove my high heels so I can sit cross-legged on the large cushion in front of the table. “I cooked an Asian-themed meal so I thought we could eat like this,” he says, looking nervous.
Leaning down, I kiss him. “This is fantastic. Thank you for going to so much trouble.”
After an exquisite meal, all cooked by Dillon, I sip prosecco while he serenades me with his guitar and that husky voice I could listen to all day.
When it gets chilly, we head inside to my bedroom. Dillon clearly snuck in here when he said he was going to the bathroom because there are rose petals on the bed and the only light is from the various flickering candles strategically placed around the room. My half-packed luggage is propped against the wall, serving as a poignant reminder of my imminent departure. But I’m not thinking about that now. I want to enjoy every second of our last precious moments together.
Throwing my arms around him, I kiss him hard, devouring his mouth as my fingers pop the buttons on his shirt. I slide my hand under the band of his pants, finding him hard and warm, ready and waiting. Without speaking, I remove his pants, boxers, sneakers, and socks and crawl on my knees between his legs, taking him into my mouth.
His fingers weave in my hair as I suck and nibble on his straining length, wanting to savor every second. Dillon’s gaze is brimming with emotion and burning with desire as I lavish attention on his dick.
Lifting me by the arms, he pulls me to standing, planting a firm kiss on my lips, sliding his tongue into my mouth while lowering the zipper on my dress. It falls to my feet, and I step out of it as Dillon scoops me into his arms, carrying me to the bed. He makes quick work of my bra and undies and begins licking and kissing a path along my skin, taking his time worshiping every part of my body.
There’s a softness to his gaze, a tenderness to his touch, that is wholly new, and I’m enjoying this gradual sensual buildup until neither of us can take it anymore. Nudging my thighs apart, he holds himself still, his cock poised at my entrance. He leans down, brushing his nose against mine, planting a sweet kiss to one corner of my mouth, and then the other, before claiming my lips in the lightest kiss as he slowly and carefully inches inside me. He’s not wearing a condom, but we stopped using them after Brittas Bay. Now I’ve felt him moving inside me without one I can’t go back. I’m on the pill and he usually pulls out, as an added precaution, coming on my stomach or my breasts.
Every other time we’ve been together, it’s been fucking. But not tonight. Tonight, Dillon makes slow sweet love to me, and if I wasn’t completely in love with him before this, I certainly would be now. He is unhurried, teasing sensations from my body with rolling hips, sensual thrusts, and tender strokes. His lips skim across my face and my neck, while his hands roam my breasts, softly cupping their weight, before he gently sucks on my nipples as he moves inside me with utter devotion.