Spense looked around the flat he had called home since he’d left the pages of Sage’s books. He often chided her about the fact that he had Roark living as a permanent resident in a large suite at the Savoy, and she’d given DSI Holmes family, money, and a gorgeous Georgian Townhouse in Chelsea. His small, one bedroom walk-up was in the Sutton neighborhood which, while not overly fashionable, was well connected for transportation into the heart of the city.

He and Saoirse had talked about keeping it as a rental income property, but decided they weren’t ready to be landlords. He’d been surprised when it had sold before actually going on the market. They’d been fortunate that one of Saoirse’s neighbors in Ireland had agreed to keep an eye on her place, checking in on it at least weekly and caring for her livestock in exchange for being able to use her vast and lush pastures and selling the wool he sheared from her sheep.

Smiling, he closed and locked the door one last time, leaving his extra key in the mail slot for the new owner. Things were changing. Anne and Watson were headed for America. Roark and Sage were leaving the Savoy and would be moving in next week to their new home in Creswell Mews. Saoirse had been living with him, without complaint. It was one of the things he loved about her; she could truly bloom anywhere she was planted.

He got downstairs just as the lorry driver was getting ready to take his old things to a local charity thrift shop. Both he and Saoirse had decided they wanted to keep only those things from their lives before they met that they both loved. Other than that, everything would be new. They’d purchased Gabe and Anne’s place—a lovely one-bedroom flat on the top floor in Soho.

“You’re sure about all of this stuff?” asked the heavyset man.

“I am.”

“Would you be willing to trade some of this stuff in exchange for my fee?”

Spense smiled. “Take what you like and take the rest to the charity shop, and we’ll call it square.”

“Thanks, mate. My missus will be thrilled. I may let her go through it.”

Spense smiled as he waved and got into his new-to-him SUV. Gabe had wanted to sell the vehicle as it was right-hand drive and had made Spense a great deal. Luckily for Saoirse and him, their new home had its own dedicated parking spots. He loaded the very last of their things into the back of the SUV and headed to their new place.

They’d spent some time repainting and setting up shelves and a workspace for Saoirse in the little niche off the sitting room. He glanced at his watch; he had time. The couple buying Saoirse’s vehicle was meeting them late this afternoon when Saoirse returned from Ireland.

God, his cock ached. They’d only spent one night apart since they’d come together in so grand a fashion when they’d taken on Dr. Gull and enlisted the aid of the Angel of Death to drag him, kicking and screaming, into the Dark. It had been hell. He’d enjoyed an active sex life since leaving Sage’s books, but nothing compared to the time he’d had with the woman he loved.

He swung by the Savoy, parking in its lot and heading up to the ground floor to pick up the ring he’d ordered for Saoirse. Granted, they’d only been together for a few months, but they’d known each other for almost a year. Given what they’d been through in that time, Spense had no doubt in his mind—Saoirse was the only woman for him.

***

Saoirse made her way into London. Everything had gone wrong from the moment she woke up. The sheep had gotten out of their pasture; the people buying her chickens were late. The ferry had broken down in the middle of the crossing, and now she was fighting the city’s notoriously awful traffic. It hadn’t helped that she hadn’t been able to sleep all night. She’d missed Spense with a ferocity she hadn’t believed was possible.

Over and over in her brain she repeated to herself, “I just need to get to Spense. Everything will be all right if I can just get back to Spense.”

They’d taken their time moving into their new home, which had once belonged to their good friends who had emigrated to America. She loved their flat. It was open and sunny and had an enormous balcony that ran along almost its entire length. They had repainted the walls and chosen each piece of furniture that was now ensconced in their new home.

Spense had proven to be a master craftsman. He’d insisted on having old barn beams split into thick sturdy shelves that he sealed and then affixed to the upper half of that wall, then installed her compounding table beneath them. He’d also lined the other two walls—perpendicular and parallel to the back wall—with shelving and storage. The workspace was small but incredibly efficient, and she loved it.

Saoirse was delighted when she found a parking spot right outside the front door. She used her code to enter their building and rode the vintage elevator up to their floor. Spense must have seen her park, as he met her when she arrived at the door into their place.

“God I missed you,” he said, taking her packages from her arms and kissing her with the depth of passion she had come to know and love.

“I can’t tell you what a shitty day I had and how it just disappeared the moment I saw you. I don’t want to ever spend a night away from you again.”

“Ditto,” he said with a smile.

They entered their place. Spense dropped the few groceries she’d bought on the kitchen island, her last box of medicinal supplies in her compounding area, and then took the rest into their bedroom and bath. He waited a minute for her to join him in the bedroom, but she didn’t. When he came looking for her, the slow, seductive smile that broke across his face was all the response she’d hoped for.

Saoirse had dressed carefully so that she could remove all her clothes quickly and quietly. Now, she sat waiting for him on their kitchen island, completely naked with her legs spread, her pussy weeping its need.

“I thought you might be hungry. I know you don’t cook,” she purred.

“I don’t care what anyone says. I am quite sure you have cast some kind of spell on me, and I pray that it will never be broken. But you are not in control of these things. I ought to spank that pretty ass of yours, but honestly, I think I’d rather fuck you first—several times, in fact. We’ve got a little time before the couple who bought your car get here.”

“What did you have in mind, Mr. Spenser?”

Spense unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, revealing his toned, muscular body. His cock was pressed against his jeans in the most tantalizing way, but she had learned that Spense wanted and needed control where their sex life was concerned, and she had happily given over. He never failed to make sure that her pleasure was sated before he was done. Oh, he might drive her crazy before he finished, but in the end, she was always completely blissed out.

He moved between her legs, tangling her hair between his fingers, tilting her head back and fusing his lips to hers. Her body shivered in response to his mastery and the depth of his love for her. She moaned and started to wrap her arms around him.

“No. Lean back on your hands. No touching.”

The moan became a groan. “Can I make noise?”

Spense flashed her a wicked grin. “As much as you like.”

His mouth came back to hers, his tongue dancing together with hers. Kissing had always been something she did because men seemed to think it was necessary, but that was before Spense. She could spend whole afternoons lying naked with him and just kissing as they watched film noir movies. From the first time, there had been nothing awkward in the way their mouths fit together.

Spense moved his mouth off hers, whispering kisses all over her face before nibbling down her jaw to her chin and then down her throat. One of his hands rose up to cup and then palm her breast, tracing her areola with his finger and then rolling her nipple between his fingers and thumb. He moved his mouth to her other pebbled peak, swirling his tongue around it before latching on and sucking, hard.

Saoirse arched her back and moaned as a shudder ran through her body. God, this was the sweetest torture she’d ever known. Bowing her back, she thrust her breasts forward and Spense took full advantage of it, lavishing his attention and affection upon them, moving his mouth from one nipple to another—always using his hand on the other to ensure it wasn’t neglected.

He nipped one nipple while his fingers pinched the other, and he tugged on her clit. As he pressed down on the latter, Saoirse cried out as she came.

“Who’s my wanton witch?”

“I am,” she managed to groan.

“Yes, you are.”

He moved his mouth to her other breast and nipped it before kissing his way down her torso as he knelt before her, spreading her legs and hooking each of her knees over his shoulders on either side of his head. She could feel her little jewel throbbing and her pussy leaking its honey. He nuzzled the insides of both thighs, inhaling her sweet scent before spearing her with his tongue, gathering her essence in his mouth and then licking his way up to her little nub.

As his mouth hovered over her clit, he eased a finger up inside her, thrusting in and out almost immediately and curling it upward to stroke her sweet spot.

“God, Spense,” she cried out, stretching backward and writhing on the kitchen island.

She didn’t know how he did it and didn’t much care, but it seemed as though it took very little on Spense’s part to make her behave like a raving nymphomaniac. He made her come so easily and so many times and seemed to revel in her response to him. As her body convulsed with the power of her climax, Spense stood up, looking down at her.

Spense brought her up so that her chest was flush against his, her nipples scraping along the hard planes of his body. He lifted her legs so that she wrapped them around his waist and then pulled her close, his dick resting just outside her core.

“Please?” she mewled.

Spense grabbed the globes of her ass and pulled her forward, impaling her on his hard cock and groaning as he did so.

“God, I missed you.”

Renewed arousal and need surged through her body, lighting up every inch of her soul as he dragged himself out before thrusting back in.

“Perfection,” she breathed.

And suddenly his control was gone. He held her tight as he pounded into her, holding her still so that she could only take what he was willing to give. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as her body shook in his arms. He held her as he drove into her repeatedly and relentlessly, her inner walls spasming and quivering all up and down the hard cock he drove into her.

Her breath sped up, becoming labored and thready, the moans becoming whimpers as another climax began to ride her hard. Her body stiffened in anticipation, and she began to pant, terrified of the amount of pleasure she was about to experience yet again—embarrassed that he could undo her to this extent.

Then suddenly, she fell over the edge as he gave one last ferocious thrust deep inside her, and she screamed in ecstasy.