Page 48 of Resurrection

I tug on the top button of his jeans, and his mouth traces a path up to my lips. He deepens the kiss while I work to undo his pants and push them over his ass so they fall to the floor. We step out of our discarded clothes. He locks me tight against him as he buries his face in my neck, kissing, licking, and sucking the most sensitive spots, the ones nobody else bothered to find. Electricity pulses through me.

I moan and dig my nails into his shoulder blades. He shudders and cups my ass, pulling me so close to him his hardness is clear against me. My hand slips into his boxer briefs, trying to free him.

“No,” he murmurs against my lips. “Slow.”

“Please.” I arch toward him and deepen the kiss. I’m slick with need.

The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up, dropping me in the center of the mattress before following me, kissing and licking a path up my body. When he runs a finger along the lip of my panties, I dig my hands into the sheets and wriggle.

“Not yet.” His tongue navigates the same route as his finger.

“Please.” I’m pleading for a release, for these sensations to go on forever.

He skims my folds over my underwear, and I try to squirm closer. He’s barely touched me, and I’m already wound so tight.

He crawls up my body, our lips reconnecting as he rocks his hips against mine. His cock brushes my clit through what’s left of our clothes, and I release the sheets to grip his ass, securing him against me.

“Oh,” I breathe out, closing my eyes, curving toward him.

“Look at me,” he commands from above.

I open my eyes, but I’m almost dazed with need. “More,” I beg. “I want more.”

He pushes against me harder, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I sigh at the pleasure, and he scoops my lips up and thendeepens the kiss while he rocks slow and steady. The flex and release of his hips propelling me nearer to the edge.

His hand skims my side and comes up to cup my breast, his thumb grazing my nipple, causing it to bead, and little fires shoot to my core. Easing back, he works his way along my body, his lips creating a path to the corner of my underwear. He puts two fingers on either side and maneuvers them down my legs until I hear them hit the carpet.

He licks his fingers and then slides them between my folds, his thumb circling my clit while his other fingers slip inside me. A gasp escapes me, and I fist the sheets.

“Oh, God,” I cry as he keeps up a consistent pace for a few strokes before removing his hand to lift my hips and flick his tongue across the same area.

I wriggle beneath him, and he chuckles and swirls his tongue, the pressure exquisite.

“Finn.” My body clenches. “Please.”

“Not yet.” He retreats to kiss his way up my body.

When he tries to meet my lips, I press against his shoulder, guiding him onto his back. And then it’s my turn to shower affection over the parts of him not covered by bandages. When I get to his boxer briefs, I ease them along his hips, and they drop on the floor.

My tongue circles his shaft before I take him into my mouth. His hands are in my hair, and I love the power, that I can cause a man like him to lose control. His breathing is ragged. When I peer up, he’s biting his lip.

“Jesus, Carys. I forgot how talented you are at that.” His breath is a hiss when I take him deeper. “We’ll never make it to the main attraction if you keep going.”

I crawl up him and then straddle his waist, positioning myself above him. “Fuck that.” I smile. “I want to see Ireland.” Then Islide onto his shaft. When I grind, he raises himself, giving me the friction I need.

“God, you feelfuckingamazing,” he mutters as I sink onto him, creating an intense rhythm.

I lean over, and he rises, one hand going into my hair, drawing me into a deep kiss. His other hand sits on my hip, locking our connection as we rub together. The sensation is so earth-shattering that if I were to die in this moment, I wouldn’t care. There’s nothing in the world but him and this room and this pleasure.

I whimper into his mouth when my orgasm rocks through me. He locks me to him, grips me harder as he meets my orgasm with his own.

Collapsing onto him, I sigh. Impossible to believe I could have forgotten how incredible sex is with him. But my memory didn’t do him or us justice. Perhaps he was right to insist I was sober.

“Ireland?” The word is soft in my ear.

I kiss his chest. “Maybe England. Ireland’s pretty far from here.”

He chuckles beneath me. “Something to aspire to.”

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