Chapter 32 #2
Then he tilts his head upward, silently asking for permission.
I gladly take it, slotting my lips over his.
The first press of my mouth to his is so careful it almost hurts.
I know how to kiss Oisín hard. I know how to take his breath and turn his body loose under mine.
I know how to use my teeth, my hands, my voice, and how to make him tremble for reasons that once made sense to me because they belonged to control.
This is different. I kiss him like I have time.
Like there’s nowhere else I need to be. Like his mouth is something I can learn without making it surrender.
He answers softly at first, then with a shaky little inhale that ruins me.
His fingers slide into my hair, as I follow the pace he gives me, slower than instinct wants, deeper only when he tilts toward it.
The bed dips beneath us as I shift closer, one hand still on his face, the other keeping his fingers threaded through mine, our rings touching when his grip tightens.
My lips travel down to the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then the careful line beneath the bruise fading along his cheek.
Oisín’s eyes flutter close as his fingers tighten around the back of my neck when my mouth moves to his throat, but I keep the touch gentle, only warmth pressed to skin I once treated like proof.
His pulse flutters beneath my lips. I feel the way he trusts me not to turn that vulnerability into a claim, and it makes me pause there longer than I mean to.
“You’re thinking,” he whispers.
“Trying not to.”
“Dangerous.”
“Very.”
He smiles, and I kiss that too. My hand moves from his cheek to his shoulder, then down his arm, careful around the healed and healing places.
I touch the edge of the bandage at his forearm, before tracing the inside of his wrist with my thumb.
His breath catches again, not from pain this time, his fingers slide between mine more fully.
When my palm settles against his side, I stop before reaching the tender place over his ribs.
Oisín opens his eyes. “It’s all right.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then I’ll tell you if it does.”
I lower my forehead to his for a moment, breathing with him because I need the pause.
“I want you,” I say again, against his mouth this time.
His hand cups the side of my neck. “You said that already.”
“I like how it sounds.”
“So do I.”
I kiss him again, this time Oisín leaning into me with more certainty, mouth opening beneath mine.
The small aching sound he lets out is everything, and I swallow it carefully instead of taking it apart.
My body remembers every old pattern. It wants to crowd him back and pin him down.
Instead, I keep my pace, loving the way he melts into me.
“My sweet, sweet sin,” I purr.
When we part, Oisín looks dazed and warmer than he has in days. I brush my thumb along his cheek. “Can I have you tonight?”
His smile comes slowly, shy at first, then sharp enough to make my chest loosen. “Always,” he murmurs.
I kiss him before the word finishes leaving his mouth, like I have all the time in the world and none of it belongs to anyone else.
My hands move over him carefully, palms sliding down the warm skin of his back, tracing the line of his spine, feeling the faint ridges of old scars and the newer, softer marks I left on him.
Oisín sighs into my mouth, a small, shaky sound that goes straight through me. I kiss him like I’m learning him all over again, tongue sliding against his, tasting the faint sweetness of the coffee he drank earlier and the salt of his skin.
Clothes leave in pieces before he shifts, his knees bracketing my hips as he straddles my lap.
I sit up to meet him, arms wrapping around his waist so we’re chest to chest, our heartbeats pressed together.
His hands move to cup my face as mine settle on his hips, thumbs stroking the soft skin just above the curve of his ass while he rocks against me, slow and tentative at first, then surer when I groan into his mouth.
I reach for the lube on the nightstand, slick my fingers, and slide one into him carefully.
Oisín exhales against my lips, forehead resting on mine.
I add a second finger, curling gently, stroking that spot inside him until his thighs tremble around me and his cock leaks steadily against my stomach.
He rocks down onto my hand, moving with me, eyes half-lidded and locked on mine the entire time.
When he’s ready I pull my fingers free, slick my cock, and guide him down onto my length.
He sinks onto me inch by inch, slow enough that we both feel every second of it.
His mouth falls open on a soft, broken sound as I fill him completely.
For a long moment we stay perfectly still, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
Oisín’s head tips back, a quiet moan slipping out of him as I drag against his prostate on every slow thrust. I lean in and kiss his throat, his collarbone, the fading bruise near his ribs, tasting the salt on his skin while my hands slide up his back and pull him closer.
His cock is hard and leaking between us, sliding against my stomach with every roll of his hips.
I wrap my hand around him and stroke him in the same unhurried rhythm, thumb swiping over the slick head.
He comes first, spilling over my fist while his ass clenches tight around me.
The sight of him falling apart like that, open and trusting and completely here with me, undoes me.
I follow right after, burying myself deep and filling him as the pleasure rolls through me in long, rolling waves.
No static. No noise. Just the feel of him around me and the sound of his breathing against my neck.
I stay inside him while we come down, arms wrapped around each other, his head resting on my shoulder. Oisín shifts against me, still breathing hard, and looks down at me with dark, frustrated eyes.
“Stop treating me like glass,” he says, voice rough. “I don’t break.”
I look up at him, startled and he leans in closer, lips brushing my ear. “What happened to all those filthy words my husband used to use? Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.”
The growl rips out of me before I can stop it. I pull out of him in one smooth motion, flip him onto his stomach, and hover over him, checking his face for any sign of pain. His eyes are bright with desire, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted open on a shaky breath.
A dark grin spreads across my face. “Yeah, Sín? Like this? You want it fast and hard just like we did when we first met?” That same desire from that first night still bleeds beneath my skin but it’s taken a different shape. I don’t want to force it. I want Oisín to tell me he wants it.
“Give it to me, Saint Masters,” he purrs.
“Yeah, I think I can work with that.”
I shove his knees up so his ass is in the air and drive back into him hard, burying myself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Oisín cries out, his back arching toward the mattress, his hands flying to dig into the sheets.
I fuck into him, my hips snapping wildly against his ass.
I hover over his back, my chest pressed to his spine, my mouth at his ear as I pound into him.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Squeeze my fucking cock like the greedy little husband you are. You wanted filthy? Take it. Take every inch while I wreck this tight ass.”
Oisín lets out a loud, broken moan, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Fuck, I forgot how much I loved this. Shit. Saint—fuck—yes—”
I bite down on the back of his neck, hard enough to mark, and reach around to stroke his cock in time with my hips.
“I don’t need nice, Saint. I just needed to know I mattered.”
“Well, you matter, Sín. You matter so fucking much I can’t think straight.”
He comes with a shattered cry, painting the sheets while his ass clamps down around me. I continue slamming into his ass, letting out a long moan as I fill him again in thick, pulsing waves, grinding through every last drop until we’re both shaking and spent.
I collapse over him, still buried inside him before rolling off to the side and reaching for his hand. I press it flat against my chest right over my heart. His fingers spread, palm warm against my skin, and I cover it with my own.
“I think I’m in love with my sweet, sweet sin.”
Oisín lifts his head, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “I love you, Saint Solomon Masters,” he purrs against my skin. “And if you ever forget that, know that I’m still your peace.”
I don’t have an answer that feels big enough, so I just pull him closer and hold him there. Oisín ruins the silence a second later.
“I really thought there would be more to you letting loose.”
I stare at him, wondering where this version of Oisín came from. “Sín, you’re still hurt.”
“And I’d tell you if I felt off.”
I raise an eyebrow, reaching down to stuff two fingers into his ass, pushing my leaking cum back into him. He lets out a small gasp, a smile widening across my face. “If Harlan gets mad at me, you get to explain that you asked for this.”
“I’m not telling him shit, husband.”