Page 47 of Resurrection

He searches my face. “Hmm. Unbelievably sexy.” Then he draws me even tighter, and his lips descend on mine. I meet his kiss. Eager. Hungry. Anything to avoid thinking about what I’m doing. My shirt goes over my head in a fluid motion, our lips barely breaking apart. When I tug his T-shirt, he helps me get it over his head. He sucks in a sharp breath but keeps kissing me, his tongue reminding me of the amazing things it can do.

As soon as his top is gone, I run my hand up his side and bump into a bandage. I break the kiss and step back, the spell broken at the reminder. His torso is littered with bandages of various shapes and sizes.

“Finn.” I float my hands float across his body, taking in each of his injuries. “Doing this will hurt you.”

He chuckles. “Not doing it will hurt a hell of a lot more.” His arm comes around my middle and tugs me against him again. “Unless you’re saying no, it’s a hell yes from me.”

“I’m not saying no, but…” I brush the bandage near his shoulder. He’s been so good at pretending to be fine since the shootout I forgot about his injuries. There are so many. “Can you—”

“You’re not really asking me that.” His hand sweeps my long blond hair away from my face, and his expression is amused. “I may not be able to do fast and hard, but I can certainly manage slow and steady.”

I swallow. “Slow and steady?”

He leans down so his lips graze my earlobe. “So slow and so steady you’ll be quivering, begging, so jacked up that when I finally let you come, you won’t see stars, you’ll see Ireland. And you’ll think I managed teleportation in an orgasm.”

I laugh even as my body tingles at the thought. “Shut up and fuck me already.”

“Just one last thing.”

I trail my hand from his shoulder down his arm. “That is?”

“Protection. I want to make sure I keep you safe.”

I close my eyes and place my forehead on his chest. Admitting this and making eye contact is strange, more intimate than what we’re about to do.

“I take a monthly shot.” I kiss his chest, and he sucks in a breath. “And you had a full workup when you first came to the hospital. I didn’t want them to miss anything, so they tested for everything. Because of what happened with Eric, what’s still happening with him, I get checked regularly.”

“Carys, please tell me you don’t let him—” His tone is gruff, angry.

“No.” I shake my head. “No. We’re—I insist on being extra careful. I—there were a lot of years where we weren’t. Obviously he wasn’t sensible with whoever else he was seeing on the side.”

Finn is so tense beneath my hands I’m not sure what he will say or do.

“Finn?” My voice is hesitant. The sun has slipped below the horizon, and although the curtains are still open, the room is only lit by a few streetlights. His face is granite in the half-light.

“When I think about how he’s treated you, I want to fucking kill him.”

“I let him—”

“No, fuck that. Your job isn’t to follow him around and make sure he keeps his dick in his pants. That’s on him. Nothing to do with you. Nothing.”

“I thought you might pity me,” I whisper, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t want to be her, and I’m exactly like her.”

Both his hands dig into my hair, and he tilts my face toward his. “You’re not your fucking mom. You didn’t marry him. You didn’t have kids with him. Cut him loose.” His voice is rough.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” At the window, I draw the curtains. I tried to fire Eric right after I found out about his betrayal, but my father wouldn’t let me. He said Eric wastoo much of an asset to the company, and I needed to take one for the team. And then, as the weeks passed, it got easier to let things keep going on as they were. Even when my father retired, I didn’t kick him out. He’s excellent at his job. He’s just not a decent person.

“Look, maybe this was a bad idea,” I say.

As if Finn knows proximity is his key to winning me around again, his bare chest brushes my back as soon as I bring the curtains together. What little light was in the room is extinguished, and I’m glad for the cover of darkness.

“Do you want me to leave?” His tongue flicks out, catching my earlobe, drawing it into his mouth. His hands slide from my shoulders to my arms and then across my middle, securing me flush against him again. There’s no doubt at least part of him wants to stay. But I’m not convinced this path with Finn leads to happiness for either of us. What I do know is someday, when I reflect on the days I had with this man, I’ll wish I had lived in the moment. I want him. I turn in his arms, meeting his kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and hauling him close.

Fuck the right thing. I’m doing what feels good.

As we walk toward the bed, Finn unzips my skirt and it drops to my feet. When he undoes my bra, it slips down onto the floor. His hands cup my breasts before his head dips, taking a nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze my taut bud, and I gasp, digging my fingers into his hair.

From the moment I sidled up to him at the bar after a cage fight, sex has been like this with him—electric. His touch is a defibrillator bringing me to life. I never knew I could be with someone and still long for them at the same time. A constant yearning for more—closer, deeper, more. Back then, if I’d thought there was even the slightest chance he returned my feelings, I would have done anything to stay that way forever.

---