The birds were tweeting outside the window as daylight crept through a crack in the curtains, and for the first time in as long as he could remember Alfie had no desire to get his hand gun out of the bedside table and shoot the blasted rodents with wings for waking him up. For once he was glad to be awake because he wanted to spend the entire day staring down at the beautiful woman in his arms. His fingers lightly traced the freckles on her scrunched up nose and he chuckled to himself when she batted his hand away in her sleep.
"Piss off, Finn," she muttered, frowning in annoyance.
"Fuckin' hell, one night in bed together and she's already callin' out other men's names," Alfie snorted, grinning when Niamh cracked open an eye and pouted.
"What time is it?" she croaked.
"About half six," he answered, smiling down at her softly; an expression he didn't even know he possessed until last night.
"Why the hell are you awake?" she groaned, grabbing a pillow and covering her face with it.
"Oh, is somebody not a mornin' person?" Alfie smirked, earning him a middle finger in return. "An' not a very ladylike one either."
The covers had slipped slightly when Niamh shoved the pillow over her face and Alfie's eyes fell upon her full round breasts with blush pink nipples that strained in the cold morning air. His cock hardened as he remembered the feel of them against his chest when they had finally consummated their marriage the night before, and the way they had tasted in his mouth. He closed his eyes and groaned to himself as he thought about the sweet little sounds she had made when he had given her her first ever orgasm.
"What's wrong?" she peered out at him in concern.
"Nothin'," he cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn't notice the way the sheet was tenting around his crotch.
"You sounded like you were in pain."
"Nah, I'm fine," he ran a hand across his mouth, swallowing as he tried his best not to stare at her semi naked body and failing miserably.
Niamh frowned, following his gaze and blushing furiously when she realised the quilt had slipped. Somehow, last night when his hands and his mouth had been all over her she had felt nothing but rapturous pleasure but in the light of day she felt embarrassed; ashamed almost. Perhaps she should have gone back to her own room afterwards but his arms around hers as her head lay upon his chest had felt so right that when their eyes flickered closed, she hadn't even tried to fight it.
"Sorry," she grimaced, pulling the quilt back up hurriedly and sitting up.
"No I'm sorry for makin' you feel uncomfortable leerin' at you like that," Alfie apologised genuinely.
"You were hardly leering," she gave a small awkward smile, glancing around the room in search for her dressing gown. "And I literally had it all out on show so it wasn't really your fault."
"True," Alfie chuckled. "But you don't have to feel ashamed of your nakedness around me, Niamh. After last night it's not like I aint seen it all and touched it all."
"I know," she looked down, blushing even more. "But I suppose it's different in the light of day, isn't it? Like in the dark it didn't seem as… well, I don't know. It just seemed easier because you couldn't really see me properly and I just… I have lumps and bumps and scars and I suppose I'm not what you would describe as perfect."
And I'm scared that you'll regret what happened between us, was what she wanted to say. What if it didn't mean as much to you as it did to me?
"And thank God for that," Alfie lifted her face by the chin. "People what are perfect on the outside are just hidin' their faults on the inside, and as for the things you deem as imperfect, trust me when I say I don't see them that way. I think you're beautiful the way you are and the reason I couldn't take my eyes off of you just then was because all I could think about was last night and how good it felt."
"I think you're beautiful too," Niamh murmured. "I know people say men can't be beautiful but you are to me."
Alfie didn't say anything else; he just leaned forward and planted a kiss upon her lips, entangling his hand in her hair as he pushed his tongue inside of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down towards her and they both groaned as the quilt fell once more and their bare chests pressed against each other. Alfie's hand was beneath the bed sheet, sliding up Niamh's leg and squeezing at her thigh before he rubbed his fingers against her centre. She squirmed as he circled her sensitive bud slowly and she breathed an anguished moan into his mouth when he plunged a finger inside of her.
"Did I hurt you?" he tore his mouth from hers and peered down at her in genuine concern.
"No, I'm just a little bit sore still," she answered, reaching for him when he went to move his hand. "Please don't stop, Alfie."
The way she said his name and peered up at him through those long lashes was Alfie's undoing. He hated the thought of hurting her further but he couldn't deny her at that moment. He bent down and finally took one of her rosy nipples into his mouth, suckling at it while his fingers resumed their gentle exploration of her soaking wet centre. He curled two fingers inside of her, feeling her stretching and taking his digits while his thumb pressed against her, moving in the gentlest of circles that soon had her thighs quivering intensely.
"Alfie," she hummed when his fingers left her only to be replaced with his lips.
He used his hands to open her up so he could draw her nether lips into his mouth one at a time, pulling and suckling before plunging his tongue inside of her. He groaned against her when he felt her hands creep into his hair and clutch desperately as she began to wriggle her hips in an attempt to reach her release. Pushing his fingers inside of her again, moving them in an undulating motion, he suckled on her relentlessly until her thighs squeezed shut around his head and she came against his mouth. Alfie didn't even give Niamh the chance to recover from her orgasm before he pushed himself inside her slowly, filling her to the hilt as his hands roamed her body.
"Fuck," he hissed when she leaned up slightly to nip at his neck.
Holding onto the headboard for support with one hand, he began to move slowly while he lifted one of her legs to wrap around his hip. Her eyes were closed and her face was a mirror image of the exquisite agony Alfie himself felt. He could already feel his impending orgasm tingling in his heavy sacks and he slowed his pace down even more in attempt to delay it
."Alfie," Niamh breathed, opening her eyes to look at him with such wonder that he felt like God himself. She closed her eyes and threw back her head briefly as he hit that spongy spot inside her.
"Open your eyes and look at me, Niamh," he ordered gently, nipping at her lips briefly when she acquiesced immediately.
Satisfied with her compliance, his eyes held hers with fierce intensity as he reached down to her clit once more, pressing hard then soft, sending her crazy with his uneven rhythm. All the while his eyes didn't leave hers and when she came again, he held her face with his free hand, forcing her to keep looking at him as she rode the waves of her orgasm. The look in her eyes and the gentle domination she allowed him to hold over her was enough to tip Alfie over the edge and when he spilled into her, he actually felt like it was never going to stop.
"Fucking hell," Niamh breathed drawing a chuckle from Alfie who had collapsed against her neck.
"You can say that again," he snorted before looking up at her with a grin.
A man who could actually cook was a rarity in Niamh's life. Not a single one of her brothers could cook anything apart from a piece of toast, and even then they usually ended up burning it. Alfie, it seemed, was very much at home in the kitchen and when he set down some warm pastries fresh out of the oven, Niamh felt her mouth begin to water as the smell of cinnamon wafted up her nose.
"Right, the twisty ones are cinnamon and nutmeg and the plaited ones have got marmalade inside them," Alfie announced pulling up a seat at the table beside her. "What? Why you lookin' at me like that?"
"I've never met a man who could bake before," she admitted with a wry smile. "What does a gangster know about baking?"
"A gangster who uses a bakery to front his business, as well as one who grew up as the only child of a very Jewish mother, knows a lot about bakin'," he grinned, grabbing one of the cinnamon buns and taking a huge bite.
Niamh reached for the same one and closed her eyes in delight when the spices assaulted her tongue in the most delicious way. This man was a God she was certain of it. Opening her eyes, Alfie began to tell her all about how he had come to acquire the bakery and Niamh allowed herself the opportunity to just look at him without shame. He was truly a very handsome man yet in a way so different from her brothers, who were always well dressed and well groomed. Alfie wasn't scruffy exactly, he was just…well, he had a ruggedness about him that sent her stomach all funny whenever she looked at him. It wasn't just his face that drew him to her, it was his very essence. They were just something in the way he held himself that was strong and formidable, but then she looked at his hands and forearms, peering out from beneath his shirt sleeves which were rolled up at the elbows and they made her feel safe. They made her wish they could be wrapped around her always.
"You aint a bad cook yourself though," Alfie said, breaking her from her thoughts. "That roast what you made last night was a right corker."
"Yeah but I can't bake," she admitted with a smile. "I mean, I can make scones and a plain sponge if I have to but I wouldn't be able to rustle up anything like this, especially not in the way you just did without even a recipe book in front of you."
"Recipe book's in here, aint it?" Alfie tapped the side of his head. "And besides, I'll bet you can do anythin' you put your mind to."
"I used to think that," Niamh smirked. "I once got it into my head that if I built myself a pair of wings big enough, I'd be able to fly like a bird. I spent days in my Uncle Charlie's yard glueing goose feathers onto my home made wings. I think he and my brothers all thought it was funny until I snuck out at sunrise one morning and jumped off the roof of our house with my wings attached to my arms."
"Oh yeah?" Alfie chuckled. "And how'd that work out for you?"
"Not too well. Ended up breaking both my legs and knocking myself unconscious," she burst out laughing when Alfie started to guffaw and almost choke on his pastry. Niamh took Alfie's hand and pressed his fingers to a small lump at the back of her head. "That's where I split my head open and had to have it stitched up in hospital."
"Sounds to me like you were a right tearaway," Alfie grinned.
"Not really," Niamh grinned back. "Although when we used to go travelling with some of my cousins during summer, we got up to all sorts of mischief. Arthur and Tommy used to despair of me because I was always coming back with cuts and bruises from doing things I shouldn't have been. I think the worst time though was when two of my older cousins decided to break into this old house in the middle of nowhere and they told me I couldn't come. Apparently it wasn't a place for girls to go and the eight year old me just wouldn't stand for that. I followed them and snuck inside, managed to fall through a rotten floorboard and land on my wrist. I broke it of course but couldn't tell anyone 'cause they would have known what I had been doing. Anyway, it was probably about two or three days later when finally it had swollen up and bruised so much that I couldn't move it at all and my aunt Polly realised I'd broken it. She got the whole story out of me and then after she took me to the hospital to get bandaged up and set, she slapped me around the head and told me that if I ever broke into someone's house again I'd think I was lucky to come away with more than just a slap and a broken wrist."
"Your aunt is terrifyin' to be fair," Alfie chortled. "Don't think I'd like to get on her wrong side."
"Out of all the family, she's probably the only one I'm actually scared of."
"Well it worked, didn't it? 'Cause now that little hooligan is a beautiful woman who just happens to be my wife," Alfie leaned forward and brushed her hair back from her face and rubbed his nose against hers before planting a kiss upon her lips. There was nothing leading about their kiss; it was an exploration, a wordless explanation of feelings neither could yet put into words.
"Is it always like this?" Niamh asked quietly when they finally separated. She cupped his face and smiled when he turned his head to kiss her palm. "You know, when people have been… like afterwards, does it always feel so… right?"
"Sex you mean?" Alfie clarified.
"Yeah," she nodded, her cheeks heating up.
"Aint never been like this for me before, no," Alfie shook his head.
"What does that mean?"
"Damned if I know," he admitted with a shrug. "But I wanna find out."