Falling Free

-Twenty Six-

"So you're going then."

Alfie stood in the doorway of the stables, watching as Niamh stroked the nose of the white mare that Tommy had recently purchased for his unborn child. She was cooing to the creature, kissing it gently and Alfie was transported to the day back in Small Heath when they had finally admitted their love for each other. What he would give to hear those words again now.

"Yeah," Alfie nodded, even though she wasn't looking at him. "Just wanted to see you before I left."

The plan was in place. Everyone knew their roles and had already left Arrow House in order to set the wheels in motion. Alfie knew he should have left already; that if his father's men were watching it would raise suspicion for him to stay too much longer, but he couldn't bear to leave the woman he loved without at least saying goodbye to her.

"I won't let him hurt you, you know," Alfie murmured, stepping into the stables, comfortable that all three horses Tommy currently owned were locked in individual stalls where they couldn't get to him.

"Oh Alfie," Niamh turned and let her eyes wander over his form, which looked dejected today and unlike the proud, intimidating figure she had come to recognise. Not to mention that he looked black and blue thanks to the beating that Tommy and Arthur had reluctantly subjected him to. "Look at what they've done to you."

"S' nothin', love," Alfie smiled, grimacing when his split cheek protested in agony. But the pain was soon forgotten when Niamh's lips ghosted over the cut before moving to his split brow and his black eye. "And you know it's part of the plan. Gotta make that old bastard believe that me and your brother are well and truly done for now, aint we?"

"I know but I wish they hadn't had to hurt you, Alfie," she whispered. "It's bad enough that I've already done that enough."

"Love," Alfie tucked his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to look at him, and the softness in his expression chiselled away at any lingering anguish she felt for him after her stern talking to from Polly. "It's me what's sorry. It's me what hurt you."

"No," she shook her head, touching his cheek gently, running her finger across the scar that dissected his beard. "You were trying to protect me. I knew that even before you said it, I was just too... I guess I'm more of a Shelby than I ever thought I was."

"Only just figured that out, darlin'?" he huffed out a laugh. "I am sorry, Niamh. More than I will ever be able to properly explain."

"I know," she nodded, standing up on her tiptoes so that she could press her lips to his.

Alfie's arm was around her, clutching her against him and a hand was in her hair, which was knotted and untamed from her earlier bath. Niamh licked at the seam of Alfie's lips, smiling when he hesitated only briefly in another show of vulnerability that seemed to be only reserved for her.

Tongues dancing and teeth clashing, Alfie allowed Niamh to push him towards the end of the stables, their mouths never breaking apart and their hands wandering, caressing one another through their clothes. The back of Alfie's legs met with a bale of hay and he sunk down onto it, holding Niamh by the waist and wrapping one of his hands once again in her hair as she climbed on top him, kissing him somehow even more fervently than before until they were both pulling apart and gasping for breath.

"I need you, Alfie," Niamh pressed her forehead to his, her chest heaving as she struggled with the emotion over taking her. "Please."

Anyone could have walked in. Tommy could have walked in. But Alfie couldn't deny her. He couldn't stop her hands from undoing his trousers, nor could he stop his hips from lifting slightly as she tugged his trousers down just enough to free his hardened length from its material confine. He stroked himself, spreading the liquid desire leaking from the tip of his cock with his thumb as he watched Niamh stand up and undo her garter belt and shimmy down her underwear. She climbed on top of him with such a hungry look in her eyes that Alfie could have cum the very second she impaled herself on him.