Page 93 of Verses Of Us

Ciaránhadleftthebathroom door ajar on purpose, an open invitation of sorts. When Lex walked in, he studied her slow movements as she let her sight adjust to the wall of steam. He was eager to find out what her next move would be. Would she join him or tell him she was leaving?

She undressed, peeling off her pyjamas, letting them fall to the floor, and he grew enraptured by the good and bad sensations that took over. Her naked body made him hard, but he worried this might be the last time he’d see her this way. He also kept wondering if he should hold off on indulging. And maybe this time he needed to turn her down.

The shower door rolled open, her eyes dark pools filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite recognize, but her face was calm and elation spread through him. She tiptoed into the shower, moving behind him, causing his skin to tingle and his heart to race. Even years later, the feelings she stirred hadn’t faded. They were amplified by the time they’d spent apart and now shined like bright, technicolour spotlights. Though desperate to cling to the belief she’d stick around, he didn’t feel safe giving in to the hope.

Ciarán jolted when her icy hands landed on his back, but welcomed her touch. She slid them down his skin, skimming over each tattoo—the Claddagh ring, then the cross, then the sparrow—the ones she’d admired before. But then her fingers stilled over the words written in cursive along his side, below his ribs—Beo Gan Aiféala.

“What does that mean?” She wound her arms around his waist, pressing her naked chest and ear to his slick back.

A silent sigh of relief tumbled from him when she did, and he slid his hands over hers. “It’s Gaelic. Meanslive without regret.”

While planting soft kisses over every inch of ink, over every freckle, she traced the lines of his stomach with her fingers, sending heated currents through his veins.

“And do you?” she asked softly.

“I try to, but…” Swiftly, he turned around in her arms, framing her face with his hands. Water dripped down her nose, over her plump lips. She’d never looked more beautiful and yet morose. “There’s still one regret I’ve never shaken.”

“And what’s that?”

Delicately, her hands trailed down his stomach. He tensed, stopping her before she reached below his waist. He lowered himself, resting his forehead against hers, then swallowed against the sudden pain lodged in his throat. “I never should have left you.”

Six simple words, but none had held such weight or released such grief.

She looked up, meeting his eyes and, much to his surprise, a quiet sob escaped her lips. She pressed a hand to his heart. It hammered beneath her palm, but she remained quiet, a silence that comforted and worried him in equal measure. Ciarán brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist, imagining his name tattooed there. One day, he hoped.

When she moved her hips against his, pressing against his length, the warm shower did nothing to curb the shiver that ran through his body. His thumb caressed her cheek, his penetrating gaze conveying his lust and need, which matched hers. He ducked lower, trailing kisses down her chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. She moaned loudly, running her hands through his hair, and tugging. He nipped her sensitive tip, and when he gripped her ass, she arched her back, pushing her breasts into his face even more. His greedy mouth couldn’t get enough. Each flick of his tongue across her skin seemed to make her weaker, and she slipped down in his arms, forcing him to hold on tighter.

Over the last two days, she’d resurrected his sexuality and brought out a youthful energy that vibrated from his head to his toes, and everywhere in between. When he kneeled before her, his face reaching the apex of her thighs, his mouth shoving between her legs, she parted them willingly, welcoming him. The water flowed through her folds along with Ciarán’s licks, like heated bliss cascading down a mountain.

Lifting one leg over his shoulder, her nails dug into his shoulders. He gripped her thigh firmly, securing it, and her, in place. Vivid lustful memories of their night at the club so many years ago came tumbling back. And in the same way he did back then, he ravaged her with his mouth, praised her with his entire being down at her feet.

Relentless, he continued to lap her up, stroking and sucking. Even when he heard her tortured screams through the flowing water and her body shook, he didn’t ease off.

In one quick motion, he gripped her by the back of her thighs, hoisting her up against the tiled wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist, forcefully pulling him in against her swollen sex, and Ciarán rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit. A low grunt slipped over his lips as he guided himself into her, filling her entirely when she slid down. He bit his lip and shut his eyes.

They moved vertically. He squeezed her hip, her breasts, anything he could get his hands on. He worshiped and adored her body in ways he’d dreamt of doing for years.

They connected on so many levels. And no matter how confused he was, or her uncertainty about what the future held, he knew this connection would never tire.

For now, words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the warming glow that grew from deep within him when he took her over, unabashedly and unreservedly.

SAFE

Alexis

Thegentlethrumofguitar strings and a crackling fire stirred Alexis from her sleep, but she didn’t dare open her eyes, enjoying the sound of whatever Ciarán was strumming too much. The warmth of the fireplace and softness of the faux-fur rug tickled her skin, along with the heavy wool blanket she lay under. When she forced her eyes open, she stared at the chandelier above, illuminated with dozens of soft lights, casting a warm, cozy glow around the large living room.

“That’s beautiful,” she said.

She flipped over, propping herself onto an elbow. Ciarán sat on the sofa, naked, the guitar on his lap.

“The tune just came to me.” He grinned, but kept playing. His fingers moved against the strings, plucking and pushing, reminding her of those same fingers on her body only a few hours before.

She glanced out the window. She had no clue what time it was or how long she’d slept. Their snack sat discarded on the coffee table and she reached out, taking an olive and popping it into her mouth.

“What are you thinking of calling it?”

“Not sure yet. MaybeLexi is sexy?” He winked at her with a coy grin.

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