Page 14 of Hot Buttered Kisses

He slides two thick fingers inside me, and my head slams back into the pillow. Holy hell, I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life. I can hear it. Eamon groans like he’s just discovered gold and starts working his fingers in and out, slow at first, then faster, curling them up with every stroke. I whimper and clutch at his wrist, but there’s no way I’m stopping him.

He adds a third finger, and my body goes tight, then loose, then tight again. If this is what heaven feels like, kill me now. The pleasure just keeps going and going. Eamon’s mouth is everywhere, tongue and teeth and those stupidly sexy lips, and it’s like my body exists just to be worshipped by this man. My toes curl. My back arches. I make wild, desperate noises I don’t even recognize as mine.

“So fucking perfect,” he growls against my skin, and then he curls his fingers again, and I forget how to speak.

He doesn’t let up, not for a second. He moves his fingers faster, thumb circling my clit. I swear, I can see actual stars behind my eyelids. My insides clench around him, everything in me building and building and then exploding in another shattering release.

I’m still trembling through my orgasm when he lines his cock up and slides into me, slow and steady, filling me completely. The sensation is almost too much, but I want more, need more. I hook my ankles around his back and pull him deeper, and he obliges, rocking into me with a rhythm that’s both relentless and impossibly gentle.

He kisses my mouth, my neck, my eyelids while whispering my name like a prayer. Each thrust drives out every thought except him: the way he feels, the way he tastes, the way he holds me like he’ll never let go.

We move together, building heat and friction until I’m teetering on the edge again. He senses it, increases the pace, and when he finally comes, he buries his face in my neck and lets out a raw, unfiltered sound that vibrates all the way through me.

We collapse in a heap, bodies tangled, slick with sweat. For a minute, neither of us says a word. We just breathe, the silence heavy but comfortable.

Then Eamon kisses my temple and murmurs, “You’re mine, Dee. Full stop.”

I smile, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I think I always was.”

He pulls me closer, and for the first time in ages, I don’t feel the need to run. "We have a lot to figure out, but we’ll do it together.”

I lie on my side, one leg slung over Eamon’s hip, my head pillowed on his chest. He runs his palm up and down my back, slow and lazy, drawing little circles over my spine like he’s memorizing every vertebra. The only sound in the whole apartment is the hum of the heat vent and the metronome of his heartbeat, thumping steadily under my ear.

I try not to think. I try really, really hard not to think. But my brain’s a traitor, and every question I’ve ever been too scared to ask parades through my head. What the hell does this mean for my escape plan? What happens to New York? What happens when the rush of this moment fades and we’re left staring at each other, naked in more ways than one?

Eamon doesn’t seem worried. He shifts, tugs the comforter over us both, and hooks his chin on top of my head. I can feel the smile in his voice. “You’re thinking too hard, Sunshine. I can feel the smoke coming out of your ears.”

I snort as he locks me down with one muscled arm and pulls me tighter. “Shut up,” I mumble, hating how easy it is for him to read me. “I can’t believe this happened.”

He laughs, low and honest. “It was about fucking time. I don’t want to spend another day pretending I don’t want you. You’re mine now, Dee.”

There’s no room for argument in his tone, and honestly, I don’t have one. I just stare at him, all the bite drained from my words. No one’s ever said anything like that to me, and the certainty in his voice is like gravity pinning me in place.

I swallow hard, feel the burn of tears somewhere in my chest. I’m so in love with him, it’s terrifying. I’ll never survive if I lose him now. I try to look away, but Eamon grabs my chin and makes me look at him.

“Hey,” he says. “Don’t go running off in your head, alright? We will make this work. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you fall in love with me, too.”

I take a deep breath and jump in with both fucking feet. “I’ve been in love with you since the first moment we met.”

“I was a jackass for pushing you away.” He hugs me closer. “I thought opening up to someone was the scariest thing I could do until I faced losing you.” Wow. My heart does a full triple axel in my chest. “You’re the sunshine that brightens my world.” I never knew Eamon has such a romantic side. I could definitely get used to this happiness overload.

We lie there forever, just breathing together, until my eyelids start to droop. I fight the pull of sleep, but it’s a losing battle. The last thing I feel before I drift off is Eamon’s lips pressing against my forehead, gentle and lingering, and the soft, possessive squeeze of his arm around my waist.

For the first time in years, I don’t want to run. I don’t even want to move.

I don’t know what’s going to happen today, tomorrow, or next week, but right now, in this sliver of morning light, tangled up with the man who finally, finally sees me, I’m exactly where I belong.

And I’m going to trust we’ll find a way to make it work.