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His words strike a chord of fear, yet they also reinforce the gravity of what I've stumbled upon. Every document, every note I've connected with red string, holds a piece of a larger puzzle.
I'm well aware of the dangers, but that hasn't been enough to deter me. The urgency of uncovering the truth, of peeling back the layers of deceit and manipulation, outweighs my fear.
"All of this needs to be packed up," Diarmuid declares with finality. "The three of us will set this up in the study at our home. I will install a digital lock on the door. And you will accept my assistance in this."
His words come as a surprise. I know the information I'm digging into could be severely damaging to the order. Diarmuid, as much as he benefits from being a King within this intricate hierarchy, should be the last person wanting to aid me. Why would he help, unless there's something more, some reason he, too, finds it worth risking everything to unearth the truth?
Weeks ago, before the estate was purchased, we had made promises to support each other, to be on the same team. Now, standing here, watching him take decisive steps to safeguard both me and my research, is the first real indication that those weren't just empty promises.
This is the first time I actually feel that the three of us—Diarmuid, Niamh, and I—are truly on the same page. This shared commitment, at last, visible and tangible, stirs a mix of relief and renewed determination in me.
I’m not sure if it’s relief or just a want for Diarmuid that has me reaching up on the tip of my toes and pressing my lips against his. “Thank you.” The kiss is gentle, and I know it comes from a deeper place than just lust for this man; I think I’m falling for him, which is dangerous in so many ways. Yet when he deepens the kiss, I sink into him. Our bodies hard against each other, close enough that I can feel his excitement pressed against my stomach. My core tightens with a need, and I’m pulling at his suit jacket; he yanks his tie off without breaking the kiss, but when he does, his eyes are feverish. Maybe it’s what I want to see there, or maybe it’s really there, but in his gaze, I see something also deeper than lust, something protective, something primal, and I want him to consume me. His hands reach out and grip the base of my top, pulling it swiftly over my head. My breasts swell in my bra, and when his large hands run along the side, I close my eyes and let his touch consume me; each stroke feels like fire, and when his kisses trail down my neck, I inhale deeply; his scent is all around me. Another set of hands rests on my hips and it’s then that I remember Niamh is in the room. I almost forgot. Guilt has me stepping aside, allowing her to see Diarmuid. His gaze seems to flicker to Niamh as if he also forgot she was here. Once again, I think that may be wishful thinking.
I want to hit stop on my thoughts and just enjoy Diarmuid’s touch. His hands snake to the back of Niamh’s neck, dragging her closer, and I find myself watching him kissing her, wondering if the kiss feels the same to him and her.
I’m getting in my head again, and to stop the thoughts, I take off my boots and jeans. My movements pull Diarmuid away from Niamh, and with fluid movements, he unbuttons his shirt. I love that he trusts us, allowing us to see his damaged back, not hiding his flaws from us. To me, they are a testament to his strength and a reminder that he can endure anything.
My double bed in the apartment isn’t as big or as luxurious as what we are used to in Diarmuid’s home, but it will serve its purpose here tonight.
I step forward as Niamh starts to remove her clothes, and I grip Diarmuid’s belt. Yanking it open. He doesn’t help but watch me as he drags a hand through his hair. Pulling his trousers and boxers down to his ankles, he kicks off his shoes and removes everything. He’s glorious and so much a man standing in front of me.
His erection always takes me by surprise, and I clench my thighs together remembering what it feels like to have him fill me completely.
I glance at Niamh, who’s naked, and I remove mybra and panties. Nothing is covering us now. And as one, myself and Niamh step toward Diarmuid. Niamh starts kissing him, and he immediately touches her breast. I find my way to my knees, taking the tip of his cock in my mouth, running my tongue along the swollen head. It jerks in my mouth, and I hold his cock firm with my hand as I work my mouth up and down his shaft; he jerks his body forward, trying to go deeper, but I can never take all of him without gagging. I try, but his cock is too big.
I reach around and let my free hand touch his hard balls. I squeeze and pull them enough for him to moan into his mouth but not too hard to cause him pain.
When his hand touches the crown of my head, I know he wants me up, and I let his cock out of my mouth that’s coated in my saliva and stand.
“Both of you lie on the bed.” He gives his shaft a few hard strokes, and we obediently lie on the bed. There isn’t room for Diarmuid to join us.
“Spread your legs,” he says, still stroking his cock.
I’m wet, and I do as he commands.
Our legs dangling over the edge, the brush of Niamh’s thigh against mine as I look at her. She’s as excited as I am. I don’t think I could ever get enough of Diarmuid.
When he kneels, he places a hand on both our thighs. He starts with Niamh, his head going between her legs, and he starts to lick; her eyes slam closed, and she bites her lip.
Diarmuid’s hand trails up my leg and stops when it rests on my hump; his thumb expertly starts touching my clit. My body is on fire, my mind a frenzy of need. I grip my nipple and squeeze while jerking my hips up, forcing his hand lower. He slips two fingers inside me, but it’s brief. He shifts quickly, and his mouth sucks my clit; it’s my turn to cry out as his tongue waggles quickly over my opening. I know it’s Niamh’s hand that touches my breast, and I keep my eyes closed, enjoying all the sensations that grow heavier inside me.
Niamh’s touch, which I’m almost becoming accustomed to,squeezes my nipple, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger.
I cry out again as Diarmuid’s tongue goes deeper inside me. I want more. I want him inside me. When he removes his mouth, my eyes flicker open, and he’s standing stroking his cock, watching Niamh fondle my breasts. Niamh has grown so much bolder, and she leans over me, pressing a kiss to my mouth. Her kisses are soft, and when her tongue darts into my mouth, I slip my tongue into hers.
Large hands grip my thighs, and I’m yanked lower on the bed as Diarmuid raises my hips and moves in between my thighs.
The tip of his cock rests at my opening, and I sink my tongue deeper into Niamh’s’ mouth. I reach out and touch her breast; her nipples are hard, and I run a single finger across it, scrapping it with a nail; she moans into my mouth as Diarmuid thrusts inside me. His movements are frantic, and he stretches the walls as far as they can go. There is always a sense of pain when he fills me, but it’s overridden by my excitement. Niamh breaks the kiss, and I release her breasts as she rises to her knees and crawls over to Diarmuid. With one hand in his hair, she kisses him, but he keeps his eyes open, watching me as he pounds inside me.
I hold his gaze, pulling my legs up with my hands, giving him more access. Each pound sends shockwaves through my system. Watching Niamhkiss him, turns me on so much, but knowing he is watching me gives me a rush that I’ve never felt before.
He breaks the kiss with Niamh to focus on me.
“Touch yourself.” He commands Niamh. She lies back down beside me, and her hand slips between her legs as she starts to circle her clit.
“Come for me, pet,” Diarmuid says.
I’m not sure if the command is for me or Niamh, but it’s enough for me to raise my legs as high as I possibly can. Any reservations he had, he releases, and he fucks me like a drowning man, moving so quickly, keeping both of us afloat.
