Page 110 of Obsession
I stare at him. “That’s what you have to say?”
“I think we’re supposed to fall in love first and then get married.”
The laugh that leaves me doesn’t sound like mine. It’s rough and quiet, pulled out of some place I didn’t know still worked. I lift my hand slowly, giving him time to pull away and when he doesn’t, my palm settles against his cheek with more care than I knew my hands could hold.
“Nothing about us has been in the right order,” I say. “Did you want it to be?”
His eyes soften. “No.”
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 madesense 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 abovethe 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.
