Chapter 6 Stevie
six
Stevie
One Year Later
Family weekend at Wazzu.
It’s been a long-ass time sleeping apart.
Three whole nights.
Padraig locks the door behind him and I’m already pulling off my sweatshirt.
Sleeping without him shouldn’t feel so dire, but it sucked. As much as I loved having my family here, we’re alone. Finally. He doesn’t speak as he scans me from head to toe. Lashes low over heavy-lidded eyes.
He crosses the room in four steps and I’m in his arms.
His momentum propels us backward. My legs hit the edge of the bed as he grabs my face and his mouth crushes mine. There’s nothing careful here. His tongue pushes deep. Tasting. Claiming. Drinking from me like I’m the only thing to quench his thirst.
I unzip his jeans and tug his cock free. It’s thick and flushed when I wrap my fingers around the base and lick its head—slow and filthy—and Padraig’s breath hitches.
“Did you miss this?” I lick along his shaft.
He doesn’t answer. He can’t.
I suck him deep. Take him down to where my throat tightens. His fingers tangle in my hair. I twist my wrist and slide my lips over him again and again. He tastes like salt and sweat and every aching second of the weekend we spent apart.
“Fuck, Stevie,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me come too fast.”
I moan around him. Hollow my cheeks. He pulls out of my mouth with a hiss. His cock, covered in my saliva, bobs against his stomach.
“Get up,” he rasps.
Before I can move, Padraig lifts me like I weigh nothing. I squeal, laughing and breathless as he tosses me on my back. His thumbs hook the waistband of my leggings and he strips them down my legs, taking my panties along for the ride.
Leaving me bare. Open. Dripping wet for him.
Padraig doesn’t waste time. He kisses down my stomach and kneels at the edge of the bed. Something catches his eye—a navy-blue satin belt from my bathrobe which I tossed on the desk earlier.
He reaches for it and his eyes meet mine when he loops it around my wrists. “Okay?”
“Yes.” My nod is fast and definitive.
With a wicked grin, he binds me and loops the ends around the metal bar jutting from the wall.
My arms stretch taut above my head, making my spine arch.
The cool air whisps across my nipples. With a dark, hungry look, he swipes his tongue across the peaks.
My thighs fall open for him, exposing my swollen, needy pussy.
He watches with a dark, hungry look I’ll never get tired of.
Padraig’s mouth finds the inside of my thigh. Then higher. Higher. Higher.
Tempered with control, his tongue traces through my soaked slit, pausing to circle and tease.
He flicks upward, tracing a hot line to my clit, then sucks it deep into his mouth.
His lips seal tight, relentless. I’m writhing—hips jerking, thighs clenching, my body begging for more without a single word.
“Stay still.” He looks up from between my legs. “Let me savor you.”
“I’m trying,” I gasp, grabbing two fistfuls of his long hair. “Shut up and keep going.”
I shove his face back where it belongs. He groans, then dives in, tongue plundering my pussy, slow, greedy, deliberately. His nose nudges my clit with every pass, sending sparks ricocheting through my core.
Then he shifts. The ties pull tight against my wrists as he lifts me by the hips.
Steady. Controlled. My back presses to the wall, knees bent and hooked over his shoulders.
My breath catches as Padraig goes back to work.
He sucks on my clit, then licks lower, tilting his head until his tongue circles my pucker. Slow, wet, and utterly depraved.
“God,” I gasp, as my spine arches off the wall, legs twitching against his shoulders.
Every nerve fires. I can’t think. Can’t speak. All I can do is take it. My whole body clenches. My entire being spasms with pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and I come with a strangled sound.
Padraig devours me through the aftershocks, drawing out my orgasm until I gasp for air, unable to endure any more. With a satisfied smirk, he lowers me, unties my wrists and lets me fall into his chest.
I collapse against him. Boneless.
“More,” I whisper.
“You got it.” He flips me, face down, across the bed. I hear him kick his jeans off and feel him rub the head of his cock against my soaked entrance.
Padraig fists my hair. Not to control. To anchor. The other grips my hip. He thrusts in. All the way. One stroke.
My mouth falls open. “Jesus…”
My words are cut off by another thrust. Hard, fast, deep. I claw at the blanket, sliding my knees forward. He pulls me back, adjusting the angle so his cock hits everything inside me that matters.
He leans forward, lips brushing my spine, then pulls out. “Up.”
I turn my head in confusion.
Suddenly, Padraig lifts me like he owns me. His arms lock beneath my thighs and he slams up and in until his cock is buried to the hilt. No wall. No support. It’s all him. Holding me suspended, fucking me reverse cowgirl style, midair.
Brutal. Primal. Perfection.
He tilts my hips precisely right, shifting my weight until I’m spread completely open for him. His cock slides even deeper. I scream and clench around his girth.
“Ah, fuck. Yeah,” he growls. “Do you feel my cock?”
“Every goddamn inch.”
I cling to his forearms, panting, raw. The sound of our slick, obscene slaps echo off the dorm room walls as Padraig bounces me up and down. Grinding and rooting until I’m shaking. Hard. Ruthless. Fucking up into me with punishing force.
“Say it,” he pants. “Tell me you’re mine forever.”
I’m holding on for dear life, in more ways than one. “God, yes. I’m yours. Fuck. I’m always yours.”
My orgasm tears through me so fast it knocks the air from my lungs. I convulse in his arms, body bowing, pussy fluttering around his cock as he growls into my neck.
He keeps going. Keeps taking. Keeps using my body like it was made for him. Because it was.
I crane my neck and our mouths smash together. I come again, hard. He bites my shoulder, keeps going.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. I never want this to end.
He turns, buried inside me, and carefully sets me down on the desk. Then sweeps it clean. His sketchbooks tumble to the ground. A water bottle bounces along the floor. Nothing’s going to deter him from sliding his hand between us to circle my swollen clit.
“Lie back,” he pants, lifting my hips so one knee hangs over his shoulder. Then the other.
Now it’s his turn. The desk creaks as he drives his cock deep. The stimulation is so intense, my scream slices through the air and I black out for a second when I come again.
By the time I blink back to consciousness, Padraig’s fucking me senseless. Rough. Hungry. Chasing his own pleasure. He freezes. Every muscle pulls taut. A shudder rolls through him and he groans, long and raw, spilling inside me in thick, pulsing waves.
His weight sinks over mine and neither of us moves. We’re breathless. Sweaty. Glued together. The truth is, we don’t fuck like teenagers anymore. We’re pros. Feral. Seasoned.
“Hey.” Padraig’s breath fans my collarbone, his lips brush the hollow of my neck. “You okay?”
Everything feels warm and floaty. I could stay like this forever.
I nod, smiling. My eyes still closed. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” He nuzzles my cheek.
“Uh…” I grin. “I came so many times I’ve forgotten my name.”
“Good.” He chuckles and pulls out, reaching for his towel hanging on the hook by his bed. “C’mere.”
I let Padraig clean me, because I’m too blissed out to move. He’s careful, wiping my pussy like it’s something sacred. Then he uses it on himself and chucks it into the laundry pile before picking me up and carrying me back to bed.
He shuts off the light and slides in, pulling me close until we’re chest to chest. Forehead to forehead. I could drown in the way he holds me.
“I hate sleeping without you.” I stroke the stubble on his cheek.
“Same.” His fingers trace lazy circles on my lower back. “Worst three nights ever.”
“C’mon. It was good to see everyone. It’s been a few months.” I nestle against him.
Padraig’s eye twitches. “I guess. Connor’s aged ten years. He looks so tired.”
“He’s carrying a lot.” I hesitate. “Any updates on your da?”
Padraig’s body tenses. Then softens. “Well…he pulled me and Liam aside.”
“Yeah?” I lean back to look at him. “What’d he say?”
He shuts his eyes, lashes brush his cheek. “He told us not to come home this summer.”
“What?”
“He said it’s good we’re away.” Padraig rolls onto his back.
“Ma threatened to leave Da if he ever gets violent again. Liam triggers him in the worst way. It’s fucking embarrassing to realize my da is a prejudiced old cunt.
Anyway, Connor doesn’t want us to be hindered in our college experience worrying about the family. ”
My chest stiffens. “Babe…”
“I dunno.” His jaw tics. “He told us we need to live our lives. Be free. It’s fucking bullshit. I don’t want to bury my head in the sand.”
I tuck myself closer. “He’s trying to do his best. He’s not much older than you, give him a break. The last thing Connor needs is to worry about your da taking out his frustrations on the two of you.”
“It doesn’t feel right.” He turns his head to look at me.
I brush the hair from his face. “Oh? Tell me this. Would you do the same thing for Seamus? Brennan? Cillian?”
Padraig goes quiet. His hand slips into my hair. “I think what happened last summer broke him a little.”
“It broke Liam, too.”
He nods.
We lie there for a while. The room is quiet save the slight hum of the mini-fridge.
I press a kiss to his chest, right above his heart. “You and Liam sounded tight last weekend, we could all spend the summer doing some gigs up and down the coast. Could be fun.”
“You’d be up for that?” Padraig’s mood shifts. “We’ve settled on a name. Connor-approved.”
“Wait, really? You picked one without me?”
He arches a brow. “You vetoed Tin Bastards, remember?”
“Obviously.”
“We’re going with Fireball.”
I roar with laughter. “Because of your temper or his?”
“Because Liam thinks the name is cool and will inspire us to live up to it.” Padraig chortles.
I roll my eyes. “Tracks.”
He leans in and kisses me slow. Deep. When he pulls back, his expression shifts. “I know being on the road isn’t your thing. It means a lot you’d want to hang all summer. The time with Connor makes me realize something. I’m dedicated to making the band work.”
My heart swells and sinks at the same time. “How so?”
His hand cups my cheek. “I want to make Connor proud. Play music with Liam as my job. I do want to tour and it might be selfish, but I want you to be with me. I can’t imagine not waking up next to you every morning.”
I stifle a cough.
“Once we get it out of our system…” he continues. “I want a house of our own filled with our kids and maybe a dog who hates the mailman. I want to eat dinner with your parents on Sundays. I want you to yell at me for leaving socks everywhere.”
“Padraig.”
“I want you.” He swallows. “Forever.”
My pulse hammers.
His eyes are wide open. Scared. Brave. “When we graduate, I’m gonna marry you, Stevie.”
Emotion claws up my throat.
“Don’t say anything, this isn’t your proposal,” he clarifies. “I want this. All of it. You and me. Every day.”
I kiss him because I don’t have the words. Actually, no words will do.
Lying in his arms, I think of Connor and how love made him give up everything so his brothers could survive. How he’s trying to do the right thing, but might be oblivious to the men Liam and Padraig are growing into. How much they can handle.
More troubling is, somewhere deep inside, I know no matter how I love him, I’m not cut out to live on the road. What happens if they become famous and he won’t be able to take a step back?
Padraig may not crave the spotlight.
Liam does.
As much as he’s committed to me, one thing’s for sure.
He’ll never walk away from the twin who can’t live without him.