Page 133 of Shattered Hearts

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

Gravel laces his words. Coarse and sharp against my skin. Underneath the gritty irritation in his voice, raw sincerity shines through. Like he pulled the words straight from the basement of his heart.

Emotion wells inside me with the ferocity of a tidal wave, but Finn pinches my nipple hard enough to push the sentimental tide right back out to sea. The sharp sensation has me squirming. I listen, enraptured, as he starts to growl at me in Gaelic.

Low, guttural, curling,filthyGaelic.

Forget sexy. Gaelic on that tongue of his is orgasmic.

I can’t even remember my name by the time he hooks me with that hazy, hooded gaze of his, as though my naked body gets him high.

His rough voice is barely above a jagged whisper. Ravenous and full of need. “Now, take out my cock and fuck me.”

Butterflies take flight from the pit of my stomach. “I don’t want to hurt you. I could give you a blow?—”

“Now, Riley. Like I’m the last man alive.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

I unzip his pants and reach inside. He’s gone commando, so nothing stops my hand from circling his warm, rigid flesh. I pull him out, my body buzzing with anticipation.

“That’s it.” Finn continues to pluck at my nipples with his uninjured hand.

With the recovery room door locked, my clothes on the floor, my bare breast in Finn’s rough palm, and my legs straddled over him, I brace myself against the bed railing instead of his chest. I stifle a gasp as I ease myself onto his dick.

My eyes roll back in my head.

As far as I’m concerned, Finn’s cock is a great wonder of the world. Right up there with the Pyramids. I’m ridiculously grateful nothing happened to it while he was tortured across enemy lines.

I’m grateful for everything. That, given time, the doctors expect his right arm to make a complete recovery. That we aren’t at a real hospital where a game of Fuck the Patient would have been impossible.

Our safety. Our connection.

That I don’t know the pain of a world without Finn in it.

Finn’s gaze devours my body as I ride his cock slow and steady. He wraps his palm around my right hip, squeezing me as I propel myself up and down. Every time he grouses in Gaelic, I melt a little inside.

Through the hazy heat of our bodies, I give him a stern look. “Stay still.”

Finn continues to flex his hips beneath me, like he’s itching to fuck me hard and deep. Meanwhile, the heart monitor behind his bed pings like an alarm going off. If he doesn’t calm down, his excited vital signs will alert the medical staff.

His breathing becomes ragged. “More.”

Because Finn can’t take what he wants the way he usually does, he’s forced to convey his desires with words. This golden opportunity to torture him is a far more constructive use for my anger.

I get the rhythm right, eliciting moans from both of us.

He’s close. I can tell. His abs start to twitch, signaling his forthcoming eruption. I’m right there, too, pleasure coiling tightly inside me as I approach the edge of orgasm.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” I slow my pace. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but, well, I was afraid…”

“Just say it, Riley.”

My heart beats so fast and so loud, I’m almost certain he can hear it too. “I love you. I know you may not love me back, and that’s okay. But I almost lost you, and the thought of never having the chance to tell you?—”

With surprising speed, he grips the back of my head and pulls my mouth to his. His lips claim mine like a starving man’s.

He trails his tongue along the bend between my shoulder and neck, up my jaw, and back to my mouth. “I love you too, angel. More than anyone or anything.”

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