Chapter 34
thirty-four
Stevie
Present Day
The second the door swings open, it’s all heat and motion.
Padraig’s mouth on mine, his hands on my body like he’s been waiting a lifetime, and maybe he has. I don’t even remember letting him in, only the jolt when my back hits the door and his body presses me into it.
My dress is bunched around my hips before I can blink.
He’s already inside me, raw, deep, the stretch pulling a cry from my throat before I can stop it.
I cling to his shoulders, nails digging in, not to hurt but to hold on.
Every thrust drives out the air in my lungs and drags a guttural sound from deep in my chest.
I’ve forced this fantasy out of my mind more times than I can count. Out of loyalty to Cooper. Out of sheer survival.
In this moment with his cock back where it belongs. Nothing comes close to the way we fit.
In the early days of my marriage to Coop, I’d find myself wondering if my connection to Padraig was merely sexual. We learned how to fuck together. Spent hours exploring each other’s bodies in wonder, figuring out exactly how to get each other off. Did I mistake sexual connection for love?
One thrust of him inside me now obliterates my theory. On a molecular level, I know—have always known—Padraig and I are...
Fire. Need. Soul.
This isn’t memory. It’s a living, breathing truth I feel in my bones.
Dangerous and holy all at once.
God, he feels exactly the same. Better. Stronger. Our rhythm finds itself without thought, our bodies remembering what our minds tried to forget. Every push and pull is ingrained in our very being, no matter how many years or miles were between us.
We fuck like we’re making up for lost time. Fast, fierce, no patience left in either of us. The slap of skin, his ragged breathing in my ear, the way his hands grip my ass to pull me onto him harder. His teeth graze my neck, dragging a whimper out of me I’ve never made for anyone else.
This is everything I’ve missed and swore I’d never have again.
I’m already close, the years of want condensed into every friction-slicked stroke. He knows my body better than I do and finds the exact angle to make my walls clamp down around him. Heat coils low and tight, and I cling harder, my breath ragged against his ear.
“Right there—” The words snap off into a gasp when he drives deeper, pinning me against the door like he’ll fuse us into one.
His hips grind into me, the rhythm rough and relentless until my vision shatters into white.
My release rips through me, sharp and molten, pulling a roar from deep in his chest.
He’s right behind me, his thrusts turning brutal, desperate, until he buries himself hard and holds there, every muscle locked. A guttural sound breaks free from him as he spills inside me, heat flooding deep, his forehead pressed hard to mine.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing. His hands cradle my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks like he’s grounding himself in proof I’m real.
I’m shaking, not from exhaustion, but from the weight of everything this means.
“Jesus, Stevie…” He’s utterly wrecked. “I’ve missed you every second.”
I kiss him. Slow. Searching. “Me too.”
When he eases me down, I feel him slip from my body, leaving me empty and aching all over again. My skirt is bunched at my waist, my panties hang off one thigh. Neither of us moves to fix it.
I trace his scruff with my fingers. “It’s still there.”
“Never left.” His gaze drops to my mouth, then back to my eyes.
We stand there, caught in the space between what we did and what comes next. Then he brushes his knuckles along my cheek, voice low. “Show me to your room.”
I take his hand to lead him down the short hall. The air shifts as soon as we cross the threshold. Electric, but deeper now, slower. This isn’t about erasing the years anymore. It’s about claiming what’s always been ours.
This time he doesn’t yank my dress up in a frenzy.
He takes his time, palms sliding down my sides, the heat of them soaking into my skin.
His knuckles graze the backs of my thighs as he first slides down my panties and then gathers the fabric of my dress slowly, inch by inch, until it’s bunched at my hips.
Then he pauses, eyes locked on mine, before lifting it higher, over my stomach and my breasts until he draws it up and over my head in one unhurried sweep.
The air chills my bare skin for a heartbeat, goosebumps sweeping across my arms and down my spine. My nipples harden into little bullets. “Christ, Stevie. If you only knew how many times I’ve dreamed about these tits.”
His hands come up, palms warm and broad, cupping the weight of my breasts.
His thumbs brush over my nipples in slow, deliberate circles, sending heat ricocheting through my belly into my core.
He bends, mouth closing around one tight peak, sucking until my knees threaten to give out.
Then the other, lips and tongue working me into a state.
Padraig’s hands skim down with deliberate pressure on my legs as we fall to the bed, the pads of his fingers trace over the softest parts before gripping tight to press my legs farther apart.
Then he feels it. The long, pale scar carved into my right thigh, a raised ridge where they opened me up to piece my femur back together.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then he turns his attention from my nipple to study my leg, his finger stroking over the seam. He drops to his knees, not in hesitation, but with the gravity of a man paying tribute.
“Jesus, Stevie…” He chokes out. “What if you’d been taken from me?”
His words rip through me, sharp and hot.
He bends, pressing his mouth to the scar. The kiss is deep, deliberate, sealing something in place. Another follows, higher. Then another, until I’m trembling. “This—” his lips press to the mark “—means you’re here. Alive. I will never forget what it’s cost you.”
The lump in my throat burns as his mouth trails higher, onto the soft skin of my inner thigh.
His stubble scrapes and lips soothe, the mix of rough and tender making my pulse slam.
The first stroke of his tongue over my pussy steals my breath.
He groans into me, his hands gripping my ass and pulling me forward until my knees are over his shoulders.
“Fuck, we taste the same,” he murmurs against my clit, before sucking it into his mouth and making me gasp.
I fist his hair. My hips jerk as his tongue works me. Broad, slow strokes giving way to quick, precise flicks. He knows exactly where to press, exactly when to slip lower and drive his tongue inside me, fucking me until I’m moaning his name.
His hands spread me wider. “I could spend the rest of my life between your legs,” he growls, before sealing his mouth over my sensitive nub.
The orgasm hits hard, my thighs clamping around his head as I cry out. He drinks from me through it all, swallowing every sound until I’m shaking.
Then he stands, yanks his shirt over his head and shucks off his unbuckled jeans. His cock is flush against his abs, thick and long, the sight alone making me ache all over again.
“Against the headboard,” he orders, and the demand vibrates through me.
I crawl back, settling on my elbows as he climbs over me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. The head of his cock slides against my soaking folds, teasing me, pushing enough to make my breath catch.
When he finally eases in, it’s deep and deliberate, the slow, perfect slide sealing us together like two halves rejoined after years apart. He fills every space inside me, including the hollow places I’ve carried for so long, until there’s no separation.
Only him. Only us. Finally whole again.
“God, you’re perfect,” he rasps as he starts to move.
It’s not frantic. Not like at the door. This is a different way of reconnecting.
Every grind of his hips makes me feel every ridge, every vein of his cock inside me.
He kisses me like he’s taking back every second we lost. His hands hold me in place so he can fuck into me at the exact angle that has me gasping into his mouth.
“I know this is completely inappropriate and the timing is probably shit, but I love you.” He cup my cheeks. “I always have. We’ll find a way. No matter how careful we need to be. No matter what it takes. Life is too short, baby. I don’t want to spend our lives apart ever again.”
“Yes.” I grip his ass and pull him deeper. Tears roll down my cheeks because, despite my life with Cooper and my kids, I feel the same way. “I love you, too.”
The heat between us builds fast, the slow burn turning sharp and urgent. I feel his cock swell as he gets closer, hips snapping harder, pounding into me until my orgasm tears through me again, He follows with a low, guttural sound, erupting until I’m flooded.
This time, he doesn’t pull out. He stays inside, lowering his weight until his chest is pressed to mine, his mouth at my temple “We get this one life, and I’m not wasting another fucking second without you.”
My thumb strokes the rough stubble on his face.
The significance of everything we’ve been through sinks in.
All the years of silence. All the nights spent living other lives pretending we’d moved on.
We kiss languidly, like we’re sealing a promise, and I feel him soften inside me before he finally eases out, his hand resting at my hip as if to say he’s not letting me go far.
We lie together, limbs knotted, breath steadying by degrees.
My fingers drift over the lines of his back, memorizing him all over again.
When he shifts, it’s not to leave but to roll me gently onto my side, fitting himself around me, his arm a solid band across my waist. He presses his lips to the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, and I swear I feel us slip right back into place as though no time has ever passed.
Except it has. I have three realities who have no clue I loved anyone but their father.
Neither of us speaks. It’s not awkward but thick with everything we haven’t begun to unpack.
He nuzzles into my hair. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, let alone…this.”
“I wasn’t expecting this either.” I settle into his arms.
His palm spreads over my stomach. “Now all I can think about is how we make us work.”
“We’re not the same people we were.” I turn my head toward him.
“No,” he agrees. “We’ve both got our lives. Your kids, they’re your whole world. I don’t want to step wrong with them. And Rafferty—” He swallows. “He’s a baby. I need to be careful for him too.”
The mention of Rafferty softens something in me. “For this to work, I want them all to feel safe. My kids cannot ever think I’m replacing Cooper. Your son should never be confused about who’s in his corner.”
“We’ll go slow.” He studies me like he’s searching for the map to whatever comes next.
“Get to know each other again,” I agree. “Take our time.”
Something in his eyes softens, but heat builds under the surface.
He tips my chin and his lips brush mine before deepening the kiss until it pulls an ache low in my belly.
His hand curves over my hip, urging me closer, his body molded to my back.
The heft of his erection presses against the curve of my ass, hard and hot.
“Apparently, I need to be inside you.” He kisses the side of my mouth.
His fingers slip between my thighs, coaxing me open as he shifts his hips, angling himself until the blunt head nudges where I’m drenched with his seed and my arousal. He pushes forward, slow enough for me to feel every inch fill me from behind until my breath catches and my hand grips his forearm.
By the time his hips meet mine, there’s no space left between us. He’s so deep I feel him in every breath. Every beat of my heart. We’re locked together as though this is where we were always meant to end up.
We lie there, side to side, faces close enough for our cheeks to touch. His arm curls around me, his other hand cradles the back of my head. His hips move in the smallest, laziest rolls, more to keep us connected than to chase any ending.
“This,” he whispers. “Is where I need to live.”
The steady throb of his cock syncs with my heartbeat. My body answers without thought, clenching around him to keep him in place. Our tongues tangle until it’s impossible to know where one of us ends.
Time blurs, each breath melting into the next. There’s nowhere to be, nothing pulling us apart, only the heat of his body sealing to mine, the slow rhythm of him deep inside me keeping us fused in every way that matters.
Out there we’ll move carefully, tread lightly. In here, there’s no need. This is where we belong. Sleep claims us like this, connected and satiated.
When my eyes open, the room is washed in the pale light of dawn. He’s by the bed, pulling on his jeans, hair mussed, eyes finding mine the moment he senses I’m awake. He leans down, brushing his lips over mine in a kiss more promise than goodbye.
“Call me later,” he whispers.
“I will.”
“I love you.”
I comb my fingers through his hair. “I love you too.”
Then he’s gone.
The echo of him lingers long after the door closes.