Page 36 of Shared

I don’t argue; I can’t. I barely slept for days, terrified he’d wake—or worse—while I was sleeping. “You scared me, Conor.” I try to sound strong, but my voice is small and vulnerable.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He tightens his hold on me and presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” I shift on the bed to meet his gaze, but when my eyes meet his, I find myself at a loss for words.

“Never,” he exhales, cupping my face with both hands. “I could never hurt you like that. Your heart is safe with me,cailín dáigh.”

I close my eyes, trying to hide my tears from him. Only to have him pull me closer and press his full lips against my pursed ones. It’s soft and tender, silently emphasizing his promise. Pulling back ever so slightly, I open my eyes to find his deep blue pools staring back at me. “Always.” His promise vibrates against my lips as he pulls me back to him. “I’d crawl through hell and fight the devil for you, because you’remine.”

My lips crash against his—probably harder than they should—but I need him. He kisses me back with a longing like nothing I have felt before. His tongue plunders my mouth as his fingers lace through my tangled locks, pulling me so hard against his mouth it hurts.

“You're mine,” he growls, his lips dragging over my jaw and down my neck. His large hands wrap around my waist, and he grimaces as he pulls me on top of him until I’m straddling his hips.

He grinds me over his hard length beneath me, and I gasp, “Are you sure?”

“I’m not asking,” he grits. Gathering the fabric from the crotch of my leggings into both his fists, he tears a hole in them to provide him access to me. “You need this. You need to feel me. To know this is real. That I’m here.”

He fists his cock and lifts it upright as he urges me to raise my hips with his other hand. Aligning himself at my entrance, he drags me over his thick length. “Mine… Never fucking leaving you.”

“Promise?” I cry, tears trickling down my face as I bury his cock inside me. I ride him slowly, savoring the feel of him filling me as his gaze bores through my soul. “Forever?”

Instead of answering, he slaps my ass, the spank echoing around the room as moves my hips to ride him. I hold the pace he’s asking of me, slow and deliberate, yet quickly hurtling me toward the edge. His hands roam over my body—dusting over my skin and palming my breasts beneath my shirt—as I ride him. They continue up to my neck, and his fingers wrap around it ever so gently, leaving me wanting more.

“I submit… to you…” I pant through the labored breaths of my quickly approaching release. “I’m yours.”

“My girl,” he croons, tightening his grip around my throat. “Ride my cock and let go for me. Let me see you lose control.”

Leaning into his hold around my neck, I ride him hard. Repeatedly impaling myself on every inch of him. I rub my fingers over my clit, desperate to give him what he’s asking for. What he’s demanding. What he knows I need. My orgasm comes hard and fast, firing through me like a bolt of lightning. Flying from my mouth with a scream as I crumple onto Conor.

Fisting my hair, he pulls me up to his mouth. He kisses me hard before tearing me away with his grip in my locks. “Fuck me,” he grits. “Or I’m going to bend you over this bed and tear every fucking stitch I have, fucking you until I fill your tight little cunt, marking it as mine.”

“It’s yours,” I husk, struggling to ride him but needing to obey nonetheless. “BecauseI’myours.”

My palms planted against the mattress beside his face, I slide myself over his cock. Pain radiates around my scalp as herepeatedly pulls at my hair, demanding my stare and pace. “That’s it,” he pants his praise, tightening his hold. “Just like that. Keep bouncing that perfectarsefor me. Show me how you fuck when you’re unbridled.”

“Fuck… Conor…” I cry, pain and bliss both fighting for control.

“Fucking come for me.” Conor fights a grimace. “I want to feel you spasming around me when I come.” He drags me back to his mouth and claims mine with the same need that I’m riding him. As though my body has no say, I do exactly what he’s asking. The pleasure building in my stomach detonates, shattering me. My whole body shakes, and I fist the sheets beneath us. I groan my pleasure into Conor’s mouth, feeling him grow more rigid inside me.

My pussy spasms as my body struggles with the wave of pleasure, and it’s his undoing. His cock twitches, and his guttural moans rattle from his lungs into mine—filling me with both his breath and his release.

Both of us breathless, I slide from his body and nuzzle against him as I try to catch my breath. “You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are when you let go.” Conor struggles to catch his own breath and is clearly in pain. “Seeing you submit… I would’ve given anything for the pleasure.”

Sliding my hand gently over the bandages covering his side, I whisper, “You nearly did.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

ELENA

Conor moved into our apartment a couple of days ago when he was well enough to finally be moved from the club. We all figured this was best so that Vic and I can look after him while he recovers. He might be here—and alive—but it all feels surreal. Something between all of us isn’t the same. It hasn’t been since that night, and I can’t quite figure out what it is.

Conor’s laugh echoes through the apartment—real, genuine, and hearty. I seek out the source of it, and I find him stretched on the couch in the living room with his feet resting over Victoria’s thighs. From the hallway, I secretly watch the two of them for a moment. They are so comfortable together, in a way that causes my heart to ache—both with happiness and jealousy.

Victoria is back to her old self. Poised, controlled, and ever-present… And happy. After watching her fall apart for days, I know I should be delighted for her.I should be…But all I can think about is how I have somehow lost my connection to both of them. I’m here, but I feel like a shadow. For the first time since we brought Conor into our lives, it feels like a threesome—and I’m the third wheel.

Conor catches me watching them, his eyes locking onto mine as he gives me a cocky half-smile. And for a moment, we’re the only two people in the room. A short fleeting moment.He slides his feet from Victoria’s lap and pushes himself from the pillows he’s resting on with a grimace. She reaches forward to help him—the role she’s assumed since he woke up—but he shakes his head and pushes her hands away. “I’m good,” he mutters, gingerly rising from the couch. “I need a shower before bed.”

Vic opens her mouth—likely to volunteer her assistance—but before she has a chance, Conor focuses on me and asks, “Can you help me,cailín leanbh?”

---