Always Conall (Bitterroot #2) (20 page)

BOOK: Always Conall (Bitterroot #2)
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“‘Nite,” I repeated back to him in the barest of whispers as he strode down the hallway towards the stairs. And then he was gone.

Closing and locking the door, I grabbed my phone from my purse and shuffled into the living room, kicking off my tennis shoes and settling on the couch. I began to look through the photos I’d taken that day. Some of just Mattie. Running with the pups. Watching the chickens. Clomping around in her little purple boots.

Some of Mattie and Conall.
Catching her wide, laughter-filled smile as she looked up at her daddy. Holding his large, strong hand in her little one as he showed her around.

And a few of just Conall.
His strong shoulders as he stood laughing, pure joy on his face as he watched Mattie. A sweet, calming presence as he saddled the horse. The ease of his movements as he fit so perfectly into the world around him.

Standing bare-chested in the hot sun.

As I gazed longingly at this last picture, I heard a quiet knock on my door. I walked back to the entryway, glancing through the peephole to see Conall’s profile, his expression serious and a little guarded. With a deep breath, I opened it, concerned.

“Conall?
What’s wrong?” I asked.

He looked at me for a second, his dark brown eyes studying me closely. “I forgot something.”

My brow knit in confusion and I tilted my head a bit to the side. “What?” I asked. Unable to read his expression, my heart thumped in my chest, beating up against my ribs as he took a step towards me, then another. His hand cradled my jaw, his fingers threading through my hair.

“This,” he murmured before his lips covered mine. The
smooth brush of his tongue stole my breath as he took another step, moving us both up against the wall in the hallway. Vaguely, I saw him catch the door with his free hand, swinging it closed before wrapping that arm around me tightly. His kiss ripped through me, the hard muscles of his chest became my lifeline as I leaned against him, weakened by the overpowering sensation running through my veins. My fingertips crept up over his shoulders as my arms held onto him for dear life.

His large hand continued to toy with the sensitive skin of my neck as he held my head still and devoured my lips.
A kiss that seemed to go on forever, endless and timeless. I wanted to live in that moment forever.

He slowly pulled back, our breath intermingling in the scant space between our lips.

“We’re not friends, Sage,” he whispered against my mouth. “This is so much more than that.”

My eyes opened to see his dark gaze intently focused on me, glittering with want. I lowered my arms from his shoulders and gently took his hand, leading him past the living room and kitchen.
Past Mattie’s room where she lay sleeping. Back to my bedroom at the end of the hall.

More than anything in the world, I wanted him there… in my bed, his masculine perfection overpowering my feminine little retreat. As we passed through the doorway, I reached behind him to close and lock the door,
then pulled him with me, walking backwards into the room until my legs hit the edge of my bed. Breathlessly, I lifted my hands to the buttons of his shirt, slowly slipping them free.

My breath caught and released in a rush, and I trembled as I lifted my eyes. His dark gaze held mine, the deep brown of his eyes wrought with desire and need. As I pulled the last button free and spread his shirt open to bare that fucking beautiful chest, his lips swooped down on mine again.

There had never been a time that was quite like this. Every moment we were together ran high with emotion, but this… this was different somehow. It wasn’t borne of pain and loss and sadness. This wasn’t the camaraderie of childhood friends. The protectiveness of the ‘big brother’ role that had existed before. It wasn’t the fumbling of two confused teenagers facing an eviscerating loss. It wasn’t frustration and desperation melded into passion.

This time it was all a deep and overwhelming ache of need.
Fulfillment. Maybe even a little atonement. His fingertips cherished my trembling body, disappearing for a second while I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He pulled at my wrist, positioning my arm over his shoulder, trailing his callused fingers back down the heated skin to my back, lighting a fire in their wake. And every second, he breathed the life into my heart. The burn that I had always wished would fade erupted inside me. The ache to feel him and truly love him brought tears to my eyes.

His hands began to lift the hem of my t-shirt, baring my stomach and setting off goosebumps across my skin. He slowly pulled it up and over my head and tossed it onto a chair by my door. Lightly tracing the lacy cups of my bra, he groaned softly.

“Fuck, Sage,” he whispered. “Every time I see you, I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

Tears welled in
my eyes with the disbelief that he was here, now, holding me and touching me so reverently. All my feeling ran so strong, so deep and sharp. I needed his kiss again like I needed air. Tightly winding my arms around his neck, I pulled myself flush up against him, gasping at the feel of his hot, defined chest touching my hypersensitive skin. The intense ache between my legs bloomed throughout my body, and my fingernails dug into his shoulders as I tried to melt my body into his.

With a smooth movement, he lifted me and lowered me to the bed beneath him.
His fingertips grazing across my collarbone and down the swell of my breast.

Ravenously, he kissed my neck, pulling at my skin with his lips and nuzzling a trail along the edge of my bra. His hands slipped behind me to release the hooks. The silky fabric left me, and his lips captured my taut nipple, his hand covering the other breast and groping it in a way that made me moan and writhe beneath him. A sharp little nip at the delicate underside of my breast pulled a gasp from my lungs, and I felt his hands move to the waistband of my jean shorts, methodically unfastening them with an agonizing slowness. Every second that passed saw his lips travel down my ribs and across my stomach, then he followed the zipper as he pulled it open, hovering there with his hot breath teasing my skin. So close to the ache he was building inside me.

The denim scraped along my hips as I lifted my pelvis off the bed to allow him to pull my shorts from me, my lacy white panties tangled along with the heavy fabric. Down my ankles, slipping my socks from my feet all in one big jumble of clothes.

Then his weight was on me again, the heat of his bare chest and arms. His hips ground into mine, his jeans coarsely rubbing up against my aching sex. He kissed me so hard, plundering my lips and pulling my soul toward him. Every bit of his body seemed to hit a pressure point that sent tremors through me, and the unfurling
need to have him inside me became overpowering and almost painful.

Skating
my fingers down the defined ridges of his abdomen, I frantically pulled at the button fly of his jeans, ripping it open and plunging my hand inside to grasp him tightly.

“Oh my God, Sage,” he groaned against my lips. “Fuck, what you do to me…”

As my tongue toyed with his, I began to softly pump at his hard length. I licked the palm of my free hand and slid it down into his boxer briefs, wrapping it around his smooth cock, and the slide of saliva wrenched a ragged groan that rumbled from his chest. My body seemed to have a mind of its own as I worked to push his jeans down with my feet. I almost cried with relief when he rose to shuck them off before covering me with his big, hard body again.

“Shit,” he growled with pure frustration as went to reach back to the floor for his jeans, “condom.”

“No,” I breathed as I pulled him back to me and kissed him deeply, rubbing my wet aching core along his rock-hard length, shivering with each slide of bare skin. “I’m on the pill.” My voice was thick with emotion and lust, almost unrecognizable to my own mind. “And it’s you. I don’t want anything between me and you. I just want you.”

His dark gaze held mine, studying me closely. “You sure, baby?”

I nodded, leaning up to kiss his bristly jaw, to thread my fingers through his short hair as my lips trailed up to his ear. “Positive,” I breathed.

“Oh, Sage,” he murmured against my bare shoulder as his arms held me tightly. “God, honey…”

I widened my legs, allowing him to settle firmly against me and running my toes up the back of his calves. A slight nudge at my core, and then he was deep inside me, raising his head to capture my gasp with another mind-melting kiss.


Oh fuck, Sage…” Conall’s entire body vibrated with his groan.

Slow, strong strokes buried in my wet flesh, the heat of his skin radiating out from me as he began to withdraw and firmly push inside again, pulling almost completely out before driving back in with a smooth force. His lips hovered over mine as he increased the tempo, and the pressure inside me began to escalate to drive me to the brink. Then he slowed and gentled, soothing and prolonging the delicious agony before he sped up and thrust again with sharp, determined movements.

“Con, oh please,” I breathed into his mouth as I felt myself reaching the edge. Teetering at the peak. His movements became incredibly deliberate, holding me there, just about to come undone. “Please, baby…” I sobbed incoherently, “oh please…”

Conall made just the slightest shift,
his cock hitting the most perfect spot, and I totally fell apart, spiraling into an earthshaking orgasm. With a hoarse moan, his body shuddered over mine when he came, filling me with a flush of heat. His head dropped to my shoulder, his breath feathering against my skin as he shook with another slow stroke, and again.

For a long time, we lay there, enraptured by the aftershocks, every shiver
drawing out the euphoria. Cradled in the warm strength of his arms, my mind faded in and out of consciousness, knowing only that I was in the one place that had ever made me feel whole.

At long last, Conall lifted his head and looked down at me in the faint light streaming through the window from the streetlamps outside. We lay there for a long while, drinking in each other and this unrelenting connection that we had. Lethargically, I half-opened my eyes and stroked my fingertips along the scruff of his jawline.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I always have, since forever. It’s always been you, Conall.”

He tilted his head, leaning into my faint caress. “The one constant in my life… the one thing that has never left me…” he breathed, “is you.”

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, pulling myself closer to him and burying my face against his shoulder, tenderly tracing the muscles of his back as I breathed him into me. My heart swelled with love and trepidation. I wanted to hold him to me forever.

I wanted him to stay.

And for a time, we clutched each other close, allowing the wounds of time to heal. Allowing our hearts to beat together and our bodies to absorb this crazy, fucked-up love we’d come to find. My mind began to fade as sleep started to pull me under. Realizing I wasn’t going to be cognizant for much longer, I whispered through the darkened room.

“We should probably get some form of clothing on. Mattie tends to wind up in here more often than not at night.”

Conall’s arms tightened around me and he pressed his lips to my forehead before he pulled back a little to look down at me through the shadows. “What do you need?” he softly asked. “I’ll grab it.”

“I’ve got a nightgown hanging on a hook just inside my closet. That’ll be good.”

Conall sat up on the bed and grabbed his boxer briefs, slipping them on before he crossed to my sliding closet doors. Pulling out the nightie hanging there, he handed it to me, then unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway towards the bathroom.

This gown was my favorite for the heat of the summer. Cool, crisp plum-colored satin with spaghetti straps, fairly long but with a slit that made it easy to kick my legs out into the night air. I loved the comfort, but I also loved how it made me feel just a little bit sexy. I pulled it over my head and stood to smooth it down my hips just as Conall came back into the bedroom.

“Damn…” he groaned. He came to stand beside me, gliding his fingertips over the dark satin. “You’re gonna sleep in this? Fuck, Sage…”

I breathed out a quiet laugh and looked up at him, loving the warmth that clearly shone in his eyes, even in the darkness of the room. I turned to face him, skimming my hands down his chest, enthralled by the feel of his smooth skin underneath my touch. He threaded his fingers through the hair at my nape, pulling slightly and grazing my cheekbone with his thumb.

Guiding me backwards toward the bed, he kissed me gingerly… lovingly. He lay me down and worshipped my body with his lips and his touch. Once again, he filled me, slowly and reverently giving me the completion that I only felt with him. Our caresses in the darkness spoke of love and promises of forever, forgoing the reality of our lives. The fear of the unknown. As I trembled beneath him and once again felt the warm flood of his passion, I closed my eyes to keep the sudden prickle of tears at bay.

And when our breathing slowed and I began to fade against him, Conall
slighted shifted slightly, tucking me against his side. The rough pads of his fingertips sweetly scraped against the smooth skin of my shoulder.

“Will you stay?” I barely whispered in the darkened room. At that moment, I couldn’t imagine life without him.

BOOK: Always Conall (Bitterroot #2)
4.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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