Page 97 of Bittersweet Revenge
“Shut up.” Tiernan turns me around, tugging my sweats and underwear down before I willingly bend over the table for him.I need him inside me as soon as possible, need to feel him, need the reminder of what it’s like to belong somewhere.
I hear the buckle on his jeans. “Lube?”
“Drawer beside my bed.”
I feel it when he walks away from me, like my body senses when Tiernan is close enough to touch and when he’s not.
From the corner of my eye, I see him move, and then he’s back, right behind me. He slides a foot between my legs, kicking them farther apart, before a slick finger is against my hole.
Tiernan doesn’t go slow as he pushes it in, my body melting into the touch, his digits sliding in and out. “Fuck. Another. I need more. You don’t even have to open me up with them first.”
I just need him.
Crave him.
I push my ass back against him, and Tiernan gives me a second finger. There’s no one else I would beg for except him. No one I would ever need with the ferocity that’s overtaking me.
“I hate you,” he says, sounding like me in the beginning, except I hated him for something that wasn’t his fault, something he had no control over. Tiernan has a good reason to feel that way about me now.
“I hate me too,” I reply.
Tiernan’s fingers still, his thrusting stopping, as if he’s thrown by my admission. A moment later his fingers are gone, and I’m so, so, so fucking empty.
“Fuck me. Please.” I don’t have the right to make any demands, but I do it anyway.
The blunt head of his cock presses against my rim. His hips snap forward, my ass stretching to accommodate him. The quick pressure is a shock to my body—a welcome one, but still. His grip on my hips is strong, fingers and dick punishing as Tiernan powerfully fucks me. It’s like he’s trying to pour into it every ounce of himself, of what he’s feeling, speaking to me withoutwords. The table scoots on the floor, but he doesn’t stop, the room filled with the sound of our fucking and breathing, and Christ, those are my favorite sounds.
“Why can’t I hate you?” His nails dig into me, his words countering the last ones he said to me. He slams his hips harder, faster. “I should, but I fucking can’t. Fuck you for that.”
“I’m sorry. I love you.” The words slip out between panting breaths and the toll his harsh fucking is taking on my body. My ass will be tender after this, but I don’t care, will be thankful for it because that means I’ll still feel him.
“I can’t…I fucking can’t.” His voice breaks, his dick pegging me just the right way every time he moves.
“I’m sorry. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just don’t…leave me.” It’s something else I have no right to ask him, but I’m a selfish motherfucker and can’t stop myself. “Use me. Take your anger out on me…but love me.”
“I do. Goddamn it, but I do.” He fucks into me again, his movements jerkier. Tiernan tenses, his dick spasming inside me. He bends over, growling and fucking, his forehead on my shoulder as he comes inside me. I want it all, need to be filled up with him, and just knowing that he’s giving me his load again, that I’m the only person who’s ever had him raw like this, makes me careen over the edge too.
I tremble, get dizzy as it feels like the world is coming apart around me, like we’re the only two people in the fucking world. I’ve never come without a hand on my cock before, but this moment is more than sex. It’s honesty and connection. It’s fulfillment and claiming what will always be ours.
Tiernan keeps fucking us both through our orgasms before stilling behind me. He doesn’t pull back, dick still snug in my ass, head still against my back, the two of us just breathing together.
“I can’t walk away from you,” he says so softly, I can barely make out the words.
“Don’t. Please don’t. We’ll figure it out.”
He nods against me, and for the first time since he kicked me out, I can breathe.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Tiernan
Dean’s been homefor two weeks, and we haven’t spoken about my father since.
I’m even more cautious when it comes to my phone calls with my father or speaking about him. I’m stuck in an impossible situation where my loyalties are pulled in opposing directions.
I hate my father. There’s no denying that, but…he’s still my family. All my life I’ve been told that family is everything, and that included our extended family and anyone in our crew. My father doesn’t abide by those rules, despite them being what he’s always preached, but that doesn’t mean that in my core I don’t believe in them. Equally, I know that family isn’t blood. It’s the people who show up for you, the people you love and care about.
While not blood-related, Rory is more my family than my father will ever be.
