Page 22 of His Possession

The buzz of his phone on the table beside him broke the silence. Rory reached for it, careful not to disturb Maeve. The name on the screen made his chest tighten.

Malachy.

He answered with a quiet, “What?”

“We’ve got a problem,” Malachy said, his voice low but urgent. “Tadhg Kelleher met with Alexander O’Connell tonight.”

Rory’s grip on the phone tightened. Alexander, Maeve’s brother, wasn’t supposed to be a player in this game. He’d stayed out of the syndicate’s business for years, keeping his distance from his father’s operations. If he was meeting with Tadhg, it could only mean one thing.

“They’re making a move,” Rory said, his tone cold.

“Looks that way,” Malachy confirmed. “Our guys tailed them to a warehouse near the docks. Couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying, but it wasn’t a casual chat.”

Rory leaned forward, his free hand running through his hair as he processed the news. Tadhg wasn’t just testing boundaries anymore; he was aligning himself with Michael O’Connell’s family. And Alexander, whether by choice or coercion, was part of it.

“I want eyes on both of them,” Rory said, his voice sharp with command. “Find out what they’re planning, and make sure they don’t get the chance to act.”

“You got it,” Malachy said. “Anything else?”

“Not yet,” Rory said, ending the call and tossing the phone onto the table.

He sat back, his gaze drifting back to Maeve. The thought of Alexander betraying her—of him aligning with the very people she’d fought so hard to escape—ignited a fire in Rory’s chest. He couldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t.

Maeve stirred in her sleep, her brow furrowing slightly as if she sensed the turmoil in him even from the depths of her dreams. Rory’s chest tightened as he watched her, the ache of wanting her and the fear of losing her intertwining in a way that felt unbearable.

He couldn’t change what he was. Couldn’t promise her a life free of danger. But he could give her this moment, this piece of himself, before the storm broke.

Rory stood, his movements careful as he approached the bed. The sheets rustled softly as he sat on the edge, his hand brushing a stray curl from her face. Her skin was warm under his fingers, her breathing shifting slightly as she woke.

“Maeve,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Wake up.”

Her lashes fluttered, her blue eyes opening slowly to meet his. She blinked, the haze of sleep clearing as she focused on him. “Rory?” she said, her voice soft and unsure.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped him. Maeve responded instinctively, her hand coming up to rest on his chest as she deepened the kiss.

Rory slid into the bed beside her, his body pressing against hers as the kiss grew more insistent. He let himself savor the softness of her lips, the way she fit so perfectly against him. His hands traced the curve of her waist, his touch reverent as he mapped the lines of her body.

Maeve sighed into him, her fingers curling into his hair as she pulled him closer. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the two of them, lost in each other, the outside world fading into the background. Rory let himself drown in the moment, in the way her touch soothed the darkness inside him.

He shifted, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a path of heat that made her shiver. Maeve’s breath hitched as his hands moved lower, his touch gentle but firm, his actions deliberate as he guided her closer to the edge of control.

“Rory,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and emotion.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her skin, his words a promise as much as a reassurance. “Always.”

Their lovemaking was unhurried, each movement deliberate and meaningful. Rory poured everything he couldn’t say intothe way he touched her, kissed her, held her. He needed her to understand, to feel what words couldn’t convey.

When they finally lay tangled together, the room silent except for the sound of their breathing, Rory pressed a soft kiss to Maeve’s temple. She rested her head against his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin.

For a moment, the madness outside seemed far away, their world reduced to the quiet intimacy of the moment. But Rory knew it wouldn’t last. He had enemies circling, threats looming, and Maeve was at the center of it all.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, breaking the silence.

“You won’t,” Rory said, his voice firm. “I won’t let that happen.”

Maeve lifted her head to meet his gaze, her blue eyes filled with both trust and fear. “You can’t promise that, Rory. Not in your world.”

His jaw tightened, the truth of her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. But he refused to let doubt take hold. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze locked on hers. “Then I’ll change the rules.”

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