Page 41 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
“Stevie.” His voice drops. “You could never.”
I crawl into his lap, knees bracketing his hips. I press my forehead to his. “I’m not leaving you.”
He swallows but doesn’t speak.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I want us. I wantallof it.”
He pulls in a shaky breath. “Why does this feel like the beginning of the end?”
“It’s not,” I promise, even though I worry too.
He exhales sharply. Then cups my face. “You’re breaking my fucking heart.”
Those eyes.
Everything I’ve ever wanted lives in them.
“Iloveyou,” I repeat.
“I love you too. Come here.” He leans back onto the bed, dragging me with him.
I tug at his shirt, and he shrugs it off. His jeans go next. My panties follow. No words now. No space between us.
His gaze sweeps over me like he’s starving. My knees straddle his hips and I feel the thick, hard press of his cock between us. He grips my thighs. Sits up to kiss me with his whole mouth. Hungry. Aching. Like he’s imprinting me with every stroke of his tongue.
His hands roam everywhere. My shoulders. My back. The curve of my ass. He palms my tits, sucks a nipple into his mouth and groans like he’s starving for it.
I reach between us and wrap my fingers around him. Guide him inside me with one hand, sinking down in a slow, aching slide.
We both gasp.
I plant my hands on his chest and push him back down. His fingers wrap tight around my hips. I start to move, slow at first, then faster as the tension builds.
He catalogues every inch of my body as I ride him. Palms my breasts. Skims the backs of my thighs. Trails up my arms. Cups my face.
I shudder. Rock harder. He meets every movement like he needs this to anchor him.
“I love you,” he grits out. “Even when I don’t understand.”
“And I love you,” I breathe back. “Even when I’m afraid I’m fucking everything up.”
His eyes search mine. “You aren’t.”
I leaned down and kiss him. Open-mouthed. Desperate. He presses against my lower back so his pubic bone hits my clit and we move together in frantic rhythm. I come first, pulsing around him, mouth parted in a silent cry. He’s not far behind, arms locked around me, hips grinding up deep as he spills inside me.
We stay connected. Sweaty. Shaking. Tangled together. Knowing the world’s about to shift beneath us before we’re ready.
Not a goodbye.
Not yet.
eleven
Padraig
Three Months Later
Theroarofthecrowd’s rattling through my bones when the dressing room door clicks shut behind us.
