Page 80 of Verses Of Us

“How I’ve missed you.”

She moaned in response and he flicked her again, this time a little harder. Delaying both their ultimate pleasures proved insanely difficult with every single one of her resounding whimpers.

“Want me to keep doing this, Lex?”

She released a long breath.

“No.” Surprised, he stilled and looked up. With an impish grin, she smiled down at him. “I want youinme.”

She sat up and tugged on his arms, pulling his body up along hers. He let her guide him, enjoying her warm skin beneath his, but his legs shook and his stomach toppled with nerves.

What if he disappointed her? What if he wasn’t able to finish? He’d had so many issues lately, but he didn’t dare admit them to her.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, she hugged him closer, bringing his chest flush with hers and looked deep into his eyes. “Ciarán, it’s just you and me.”

Their foreheads touched, and an aching sigh fell from his mouth. She knew precisely what to say to calm his raging anxiety.

Both secure in their tiny bubble above the streets of Dublin, a wave of comfort washed over him and he watched her lean over, reaching into a small bag on the night table. She pulled out a condom, taking charge, sheathing him, licking her lips and biting down as if touching him was more than she could handle.

Once again, he felt important, as if he mattered only in a way she’d been able to coax.

She rolled onto her back and grinned at him, her delicate fingers running against his chest, and waited for him to make the next move. This wasn’t only about her pleasure. In those emerald eyes, he could see how much she cared about his happiness, too.

With one swift tug on her hips, he brought her up onto his thighs, plunging into her. With her warm skin against his, he lost himself in a world only they could understand.

The sounds of her arousal, of their skin smacking, of their groans and panting, suffused the room like the most wonderful music. When she spread her legs wider in response, giving him more access, he became dominated by the desire he’d only found with her.

One arm gripped her tightly, pressing them together, while the other reached down, his thumb rubbing her clit. He watched her eyes roll up, her head dip back, and sucked on her neck until small, purplish marks appeared. He consumed her, savouring every inch of her beautiful skin. She rocked her hips against his, tightening around his cock, her nails digging into his back so hard he hissed.

It was all so intense, agonising, both physically and emotionally. His heart raced, thumping against his ribs, desperate to be unleashed, needing to be freed from the prison that still kept him caged.

After what seemed like only moments, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Instinctively, he rested his head against her chest, listening to her hammering heart, mimicking the rhythm of his.

Close. She was so close.

He leaned down, scratching his beard against her breasts, hearing her inhale sharply before sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Pure honey.

She writhed and rocked, pounded and slowed. The intensity of her orgasm crept up and met his, as they both shattered in each other’s arms, his name on her lips.

Breathless, her body became supple, her bones disappearing as she fell under the spell of elation. And though he knew he should lay her down, that they both needed the rest, he couldn’t fathom letting her go, and his arms circled her waist.

She laughed, the sound angelic in his still buzzing ears, and she reached around, loosening his grip. “You trying to crack a rib?”

He looked up at her, admiring the way her glossy, half-shut eyes filled his heart so damn full it ached. They’d come close before, but he’d never known this.

“Sure.” This was new, and he wanted it to last forever. “If it gets you to stay.”

NOT KIDS ANYMORE

Alexis

Ciaránwanderedthroughtheroom, naked, picking up their clothes, placing hers on a nearby chair. Alexis tucked the thick white comforter under her chin, not in any hurry to leave the warmth of the bed, even if soon she’d have to pack.

“What time’s your flight?” he asked, sitting at the foot of the bed, slipping his shoes on.

“At two.” She sighed and stretched, about as eager for the six-hour return home as she was for Ciarán leaving.

---