by Chloe Walsh
Restless and impatient, I dragged my hand up and down his shaft, desperate for the dirty, fucking carnal way he made me feel. I felt him switch from a semi to rock hard between my fingers and I longed to drag him between my legs and have him fuck me until I couldn’t see straight. I craved the invasive feeling of him inside of me. He was too big for me, too much, and I loved the feel of him breaking me in.
"I'm gonna come," I cried out, banging my hips down on his face, unable to take the sensations as they echoed through my core. A slow spasm began to build inside of me, sending mini vibrations through my body. "Noah, I'm so fucking close…"
My flesh ignited in a flush of burning heat when I felt his teeth tug on my clit. He slid a second finger inside me and I went off like a firework, coming hard on his face.
"Jesus," I strangled out, breathing hard and fast, as I rolled onto my back beside him. "My ears are ringing." Exhaling a shuddering breath, I twisted my face to look at my husband. "You tongue-fucked me so good, it messed with my hearing."
"Hmm," Noah mused. "Pity it didn’t mess with your ability to speak."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing, baby."
Nuzzling into his chest, I suckled on his taut flesh. I knew that was his weak spot, that small slither of skin on his collar bone. The low growl of approval that tore from Noah's throat caused my clit to throb with anticipation.
He was so fucking beautiful that it hurt.
All I wanted to do was lie on my back and have him fuck me.
Thankfully, my husband was a like a finely tuned machine; untiring and relentless.
In one swift move, he was on top of me again, hips nestling between my thighs, cock thick, hard, and ready for round two, as he ran his tongue up the length of my neck, stopping to suckle and bite on my flesh. He was caging me in, letting me know in no uncertain terms who was running the show.
Fine by me, I thought to myself, I could take a night off.
Not interested in another round of foreplay, Noah covered my mouth with his and slid home, pushing himself deep inside of me. The movement was so comforting that we both groaned in unison. I knew that comforting was a weird phrase to define the sensation of having your husband enter you, but that's how I felt. My connection with this man was on a deeper level than anything I'd ever experienced before.
Sure, we fought like a pair of rowdy teenagers most days, but the man had saved me. Hell, he was still saving me. Daily. He never gave up on me. No matter what I said or did. I never had that before. When my mother died, I kind of gave up on the idea of unconditional love. It was something I'd felt once, but once she passed away, I pushed it to the back of my mind and moved on.
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I would find that comfort and acceptance from the hostile boy next door. The boy that drove me batshit crazy and close to the brink of insanity.
But I did.
When we lost Einín and I completely fell apart, Noah was grieving, too, and still, he continued to push me, to make me rise, make me live. He kept my heart beating. And now I was here, happy to breathe again, because of him. Because he refused to give up on me. Because he refused to live in a world without me in it.
Noah Messina quite literally loved me back to life. When my world caved in on top of me, he strode into the carnage and dragged me back to the safety and protection of his arms. And now we had an army of our own. The babies he had promised to give me, he had provided. The loving home he vowed we would have, he came through. Loyalty, fidelity, love, he'd given me everything and more…
"Noah," I whispered, reaching up to touch his face as he moved inside of me. "You have my blessing."
"Thorn." A pained groan escaped him and he pressed his brow to mine. "Fuck, Thorn…"
"When you come out of retirement, I'm going to be right by your side," I continued, feeling my eyes burn with emotion as he continued to make my body float with sensation. "And every time you step foot in that cage, I'm going to be in your corner, cheering you on."
"Thorn." His lips landed on mine; hard, hot, and a little desperate.
"Because you matter to me," I whispered, kissing him back. "Because you're everything to me."
"Noah! Get the hell in here!" I screamed an hour later, unable to feel my body.
Unable to feel a goddamn thing.
Trembling from head to toe, I fought to balance myself on the edge of the bathtub.
My heart was racing, my eyes trained on the evil bastard prowling towards me.
"You're going to die, you imposturous freak," I hissed and then yelped loudly. "You and every member of your family!"
"What?" Noah demanded, barging into the bathroom and almost blowing the door clean off the hinges in the process. "What's wrong?"
Even though I was in the middle of a personal crisis, I had to stop and take a moment to appreciate how fucking handsome my husband actually was.
Noah stood in the middle of our ensuite bathroom, clad only in a pair of black boxers, with one hand in his just fucked hair – courtesy of yours truly – and the other hand curled around the trigger of a gun.
"Jesus Christ, Thorn," he growled, eyes landing on me. "I thought you were dying in here."
"Kill him!" I demanded – okay, I screamed at the top of my lungs – as I pointed at the huge hairy spider in my bathtub. "I want him dead!"
"Would you shut the fuck up?" he whisper-hissed, eyes bulging. "You'll wake the damn dead with all that yodeling – not to mention the babies!"
"You won't be able to make any more babies if you don’t save me," I warned him in a threatening tone. "Now, be a gentleman for once in your thuggish, criminal-filled life and rescue a poor damsel in distress, dammit!"
"Damsel my ass." Rolling his eyes, Noah walked over to where I was being held hostage and reached into the tub –
"Omigod! Don’t touch him, you freak!" I screamed, heaving in disgust. "Take his life, Noah. Do it. Be brutal. He doesn’t deserve your mercy."
"Relax, drama queen," Noah shot back with a smirk, as he carried the spider out of the bathroom.
"You did not just touch it!" I shuddered in revulsion and clambered to my feet. "You better disinfect those fingers before you come near me again."
Clad in Noah's t-shirt and a pair of black panties, I gingerly padded downstairs after him, determined to make sure that my eight-legged attacker was gone for good.
When I reached the bottom step, Noah was closing the front door.
"Well? Did you take his life? Hmm? Did you make him pay?"
"Kill a defenseless spider?" He arched a brow in disbelief. "And what would that make me?"
"The best husband in all of the land," I replied, deadly serious.
"I didn’t kill the damn spider, Thorn. I set it free."
"Ugh." I pressed a hand to my chest. "I think you broke my heart just now."
"You're ridiculous," Noah said. "And weird." He frowned. "You're ridiculously weird." He shook his head and I could see the wheels of his brain shift into gear. I was fairly confident that I knew what he was thinking, too. How the hell did I end up with this lunatic?
Whatever.
I owned my crazy.
Shrugging off the notion, I jumped off the bottom step and pattered into the kitchen, heart set on a big-ass bagel for a mid-night snack. My plan was thwarted, however, when a huge, tattooed arm came around me.
Hooking his arm around my waist, Noah tugged me back to him. "I was so fucking right all those years ago."
"You were?" I breathed, eyelids fluttering when he leaned in to nuzzle my neck.
"Yeah." He pressed a hot kiss to the curve of my neck. "The crazy in me needs the crazy in you." He pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Thank you for your blessing, Thorn. It means more than you know."
"Yeah, yeah." Sighing heavily, I turned around and wrapped my arms around his waist. "I love you, baby daddy."
Chuckling, he tightened his arms around me. "I love you back, brat."
Follow the adventures of Noah
and Teagan
in the Carter Kids series,
available now.
11
Sunday
Ballylaggin, Cork
Shannon Lynch
Bundled up in the warmest coat that I owned, I blew into my glove covered hands and attempted to warm what I knew were blue-tinged fingertips. It was springtime, and the cold front coming in from the north was severe. Still, there was nowhere else I would rather be than right here.
Bright eyed and bushy tailed, my best friend Claire jumped up and down beside me, cheering for our school rugby team. I knew the jersey number Claire was most interested in, as she screamed and cheered on Tommen College's infamous flanker; Gibsie.
As for me?
Well, I only had eyes for 13.
The team captain.
The Irish international.
The boy wonder himself.
Jonathon Kavanagh.
My Johnny.
It was the first time I'd seen him since he'd been called up for the Six Nations. His schedule during the tournament was insane, which meant we had spent barely any time together since February. Of course, we texted and phoned each other daily, but it wasn’t the same. I missed him at school. I missed him at home. I missed him in my life. Sometimes, I think I even missed him when I was with him.
"This is your cue to cheer," Claire chimed in, nudging me in the side. "Clap, Shan. The match is over. Your boyfriend just scored the winning try."
"Huh– oh… Good job!" I squealed, quickly rising from my seat and clapping furiously along with all of the other Tommen supporters. In truth, I still had no bloody idea what was happening, but the game was over, Johnny was still standing, with minimal blood on his jersey, so that was a win for me.
My heart hammered wildly in my chest when a boy from the opposite team signaled to Johnny that they should swap jerseys. Now, even with my minimal knowledge of the sport, I knew this didn’t usually happen during school games, but Johnny nodded and whipped off his jersey before handing it to the other player.
A chorus of female screams erupted nearby, so loudly that I had to put my hands to my ears. Disgusted and burning with jealousy, I huffed out a breath and climbed out of our row before following Claire down the steps towards the pitch.
When I reached the bottom step of the stands, Johnny was already moving straight for me, blue eyes locked on my face.
"Oh no," Claire groaned, holding her hands up. "You guys are going to suck face, aren’t you? Ugh. And I've just had a large lunch…" Shaking her head, she quickly scampered off, calling out the words, "Gerard, come save me," as she moved.
Like the habit of a lifetime, I clumsily raised a hand and waved at him, heart racing violently in my chest as I watched him close the space between us.
Way to go, idiot.
Wave at the boy who saved your family.
Bloody wave.
Ugh.
Ignoring the fans and reporters surrounding him, Johnny made a beeline for the bleachers, clearing the wall in one swift leap, and not stopping until he was standing in front of me.
"Hi, Shannon," he said with a smile, as he hooked one muddy arm around my waist and pulled me up against his chest.
His big, strong, muscular chest…
"Hi, Johnny," I breathed, shivering when I placed my hands on his stomach and felt the heat of his skin through my gloves. "You're back."
"I'll always come back to you, Shannon like the river," he replied, voice thick and gruff as he tipped my chin up with his fingers and lowered his mouth to mine. "It's all about you, baby."
The moment our lips touched, something settled deep inside of me. All was right in my world again because Johnny Kavanagh had come home to me.
Ignoring the screams, wolf whistles, and cameras flashing around us, I kissed him back with everything I had in me.
"I missed you so much, Johnny," I whimpered into his mouth as his tongue dueled with mine, swallowing up my breathy moans. His hands were rough and calloused from years of playing the game, but he still held me with a tenderness that only Johnny could possess.
"I missed you so fucking much, Shan," came his urgent reply, as the arm he had hooked around my waist tightened. "Like you wouldn’t bleeding believe – Christ, you feel like coming home."
"You are home, Johnny."
"That's not what I mean."
Yeah, I knew exactly what he meant.
"Congratulations on the game by the way," I breathed against his mouth, lips moving against his. "You, uh, you were –"
"Good?" he offered, pulling back to smirk at me knowingly.
"Yeah." I blew out a shaky breath and grinned up at him. "More than good."
"Good." His smile deepened, dimples popping adorably. "Come on –" he draped an around my shoulders and tucked me into his side, "let's go home, Shan."
"Oh, I have good news about that," I replied, wrapping my arm around his waist.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Smirking to myself, I said, "Your Mam told me to tell you that she's really sorry that she couldn’t be there when you came home, but she got roped into some parent's association fundraiser down at Ollie's primary school, and that she'll see you later tonight."
Johnny's step faltered and he swung around to gape at me. "And you're only telling me this now?" I laughed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Come on," he said, more anxious now, as he practically dragged me towards the club house. "I've got the car."
We were singing in his car, all caught up in the moment, as the windscreen wipers worked to the max to clear the rain from his windshield. It was all fogged up in here, even with the heater on full blast, and I could feel the damp in my bones, but I never felt more careless and free.
Unable to stop myself, I leaned over and pressed a kiss to the bare skin of his neck. I was rewarded with a low growl, and then his hand was on my thigh, fingers entwined with mine.
This is it, I decided with a contented sigh. This is love.
Kings of Leon's Fans blasted from the stereo as Johnny, still in his match gear, threw the car into fifth and put the pedal to the metal.
With my heart racing erratically in my chest, I tried and failed to focus on the blurred sights of fields and houses as we whizzed past, with only one destination in mind.
My bedroom.
He was acting reckless, driving too fast, and still, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
Drunk off hormones and freedom, I unfastened my seatbelt, leaned across the seats, and slipped my hand into the waistband of his shorts.
"Shan," he groaned, bucking his hips upwards when I closed my fist around him. "Fuck."
"Do you want me to stop?" I purred in his ear, tugging his earlobe with my teeth. "Hmm?"
"Fuck no, Shan, don’t stop," he groaned, hips moving with the rhythm of my hand as I stroked his hard erection. "Don’t ever fucking stop, baby."
Less than ten minutes later, we were back in my bedroom, with the door closed, our clothes scattered across his floor, and Him's metal version of Wicked Game blasted from the stereo.
The haunting lyrics filled my ears, drowning out the sound of my pounding heart, as my back hit the mattress, followed swiftly by his big body landing on top of me.
He was built like a fighter, he had a frame that was built and primed for violence, but showed me nothing but love. With hands as big as shovels, he cupped my face with a gentleness that I had come to trust.
It was an extraordinary feeling, to be this in love having lived so little of life. It didn't matter though. I had peaked with him. Never would I stray or wander.
Johnny Kavanagh was the boy I was supposed to be with. I had never been more sure of anything in my life. He was the other half of me. And I loved him. I loved him with everything I had in me.
Consumed in my feelings for him, I let my legs fall open, reveling in the feel of his big body nestled between them, the hardest part of him moving against the softest part of me.
He was hard, thick, and straining agains
t me; every muscle in his impressive body coiled tight in anticipation as he teased my entrance with the head of his thick shaft.
"Love you, Shan," he whispered against my lips before pushing deep inside of me. "Love you most in the world, baby."
"I love you, too, Johnny," I cried out, grasping his broad shoulders and reveling in the way that, even though I was so much smaller than him when our bodies locked together, it was perfect. We fit perfectly. It was so right.
He was giving me everything I needed and more. With his lips, he gave me love. With his hands, he showed me how desirable I was to him.
When he was inside of my body, our movements were a frenzied mixture of pain and pleasure, an intoxicating concoction of sex and love. The connection we had ran deeper than words could begin to depict. It might have taken us awhile to figure it out, but once we had, I trusted that it would be the love of a lifetime – that he would be the love of my lifetime.
Johnny Kavanagh
I was so disgustingly in love with this girl that I was fairly sure that nobody on the bleeding planet had ever experienced the emotions that coursed through my heart when she was near me.
Fuck, Shannon didn’t even need to be nearby for her to consume my every waking thought and decision. My happiness was tied to hers. It didn’t matter how far I went with the rugby, or how successful I became, if Shannon wasn't happy then neither was I.
Being inside her, feeling the walls of her heat close around me, pulling me in deeper, to the only place I wanted to be, was everything. Her hands on my body, touching me, grabbing at my flesh, demanding I give her all of me, was fucking heaven.
I was more than willing to give her all of me.
I would have kept telling her how much I loved her if it didn’t make me sound like such a fucking vagina, so instead, I showed her with my body. Kissing her deeply, I moved above, pushing deeper inside of her, feeling like I wanted fall into this girl and never come back.