Craving Resurrection
Page 110
“In me wallet,” I told her dumbly, the fear of being pushed away making me a bit shaky.
“It’s not doing any good in there,” she teased as she rolled completely to her back. “Are you okay?”
“Aye,” I mumbled, grabbing my wallet off the nightstand and pulling a row of three condoms out.
“You’re sure of yourself,” she said in amusement as I dropped them on the bed.
“Dere’s a good chance I’ll rip de first one in me haste wit’ de way me hands are shakin’,” I replied honestly, my voice quiet. “De second one we’ll use.”
“You’re shaking?” she asked, her face growing soft as she grabbed one of my hands to study it.
“I have never been more afraid or excited in me life.”
“Afraid?”
“Dat ye’ll realize I’m not what ye want.”
“Excited?”
“Like a thousand Christmases rolled into one moment.”
“Do you want me to take care of the condom?”
“Dat would probably be best.”
“Lay down,” she ordered, letting go of my hand to pick up the condoms.
I lay down on the bed next to her, my feet still planted on the floor, and watched her rip the condom open carefully. The second she touched me, my body jolted.
The sensitivity was almost painful as she wrapped her hand around the shaft and pulled up slowly, making my hips rise off the bed. Then she leaned down and took me in her mouth while I watched in awe.
“I’ll not last long, ye do dat,” I said ruefully, gripping her jaw gently to pull her away. I both hated and loved how close to the edge I was, wishing I could watch her lips around me, but knowing that if she didn’t stop, we’d be finished.
She rolled the condom down my length in one smooth move, and I helped her seat it at the base, making sure that it was situated where it needed to be.
It was the first time we’d ever used one, and I wondered briefly if it would make everything different.
Then she was there, kneeling above me while those long ropes of hair brushed the tips of her breasts and she pressed my cock inside her.
I yelled out as she dropped down, and used my legs to press into her deeper. I’d been insane to think that anything would change the way it felt to be inside her. I still felt the same rush of emotion, the same overwhelming urge to get as far inside her as I possibly could.
Nothing compared to the way I felt when I was inside her. Nothing.
I held on to her hips as she rolled them above me, but soon I was pulling my hands away so I could lean up and brace myself on my elbows. Her breasts were swaying with each movement and my mouth watered at the sight.
“Lean forward,” I ordered, glancing up into her heavy lidded eyes. “I want yer nipples.”
She shuddered, then rested her hands on my shoulders, bringing her breasts to my face.
Her cunt clenched as I pulled first one and then the other nipple between my lips, biting them gently and sucking them up against the roof of my mouth. She didn’t wear perfume or scented lotion, and the only thing I could taste was her. The salt of her skin and the sweet of her skin were the most potent aphrodisiacs I’d ever encountered. I wanted to inhale her.
She finally leaned back and I watched one of her hands reach down to where our bodies connected, rubbing at the bundle of nerves there. Her lips were stretched around me, glistening with moisture, and I had a hard time moving my eyes away from the sight.
When her movements began to grow jerky, I glanced up at her face, and what I saw there made my entire body grow cold.
She’d hit her release and she was pulsing around me, but her head was lifted toward the ceiling and tears were running silently down her cheeks.
I was frozen for a moment, not sure what was happening, but as she shuddered one last time, one of my hands thrust out and grabbed her hip, stopping her movements.
Her head jerked down in surprise.
“What are you doing?” she asked, moving against my grip.
“Yer cryin’.”
“It’s okay.” She rolled her hips against me, and my stomach knotted.
“Why?”
“It was a really good orgasm,” she said, trying to play it off.
I met her eyes silently as she tried to move, but with every thrust and roll, I grew softer, until I lifted her off me before the condom could come off.
“What the fuck?” she asked in confusion, looking down between us.
I shook my head as I ripped the condom off, not sure what to say. I couldn’t…
I just couldn’t. I knew by the expression on her face that she was hurt, but I didn’t know what to say to make it better.
I would not fuck her while she cried. Ever. I didn’t care what type of tears they were, the sight of them erased all arousal from my body.
“Patrick?”
I walked away, tossing the condom in the bin and wetting a towel from the bathroom before going back to where she sat silently on the bed. She shuddered as I ran the wet towel over her body, starting with her neck and ending between her thighs.
“What just happened?” she asked quietly, wrapping her arms around her chest.
“I love ye—”
“Patrick, don’t,” she warned.
I ignored her. “I love ye. More den meself. More den anyt’in’.” I closed my mouth and tried to get my accent under control. I’d spent almost thirty years in the US, but I still found myself reverting back to the old pronunciations when I was fighting my emotions. “I’ve always loved ye.” I continued, “I’m not sure what happened dere or why ye were cryin’. But I will not ever touch ye when ye don’t want to be touched.”
“It’s not doing any good in there,” she teased as she rolled completely to her back. “Are you okay?”
“Aye,” I mumbled, grabbing my wallet off the nightstand and pulling a row of three condoms out.
“You’re sure of yourself,” she said in amusement as I dropped them on the bed.
“Dere’s a good chance I’ll rip de first one in me haste wit’ de way me hands are shakin’,” I replied honestly, my voice quiet. “De second one we’ll use.”
“You’re shaking?” she asked, her face growing soft as she grabbed one of my hands to study it.
“I have never been more afraid or excited in me life.”
“Afraid?”
“Dat ye’ll realize I’m not what ye want.”
“Excited?”
“Like a thousand Christmases rolled into one moment.”
“Do you want me to take care of the condom?”
“Dat would probably be best.”
“Lay down,” she ordered, letting go of my hand to pick up the condoms.
I lay down on the bed next to her, my feet still planted on the floor, and watched her rip the condom open carefully. The second she touched me, my body jolted.
The sensitivity was almost painful as she wrapped her hand around the shaft and pulled up slowly, making my hips rise off the bed. Then she leaned down and took me in her mouth while I watched in awe.
“I’ll not last long, ye do dat,” I said ruefully, gripping her jaw gently to pull her away. I both hated and loved how close to the edge I was, wishing I could watch her lips around me, but knowing that if she didn’t stop, we’d be finished.
She rolled the condom down my length in one smooth move, and I helped her seat it at the base, making sure that it was situated where it needed to be.
It was the first time we’d ever used one, and I wondered briefly if it would make everything different.
Then she was there, kneeling above me while those long ropes of hair brushed the tips of her breasts and she pressed my cock inside her.
I yelled out as she dropped down, and used my legs to press into her deeper. I’d been insane to think that anything would change the way it felt to be inside her. I still felt the same rush of emotion, the same overwhelming urge to get as far inside her as I possibly could.
Nothing compared to the way I felt when I was inside her. Nothing.
I held on to her hips as she rolled them above me, but soon I was pulling my hands away so I could lean up and brace myself on my elbows. Her breasts were swaying with each movement and my mouth watered at the sight.
“Lean forward,” I ordered, glancing up into her heavy lidded eyes. “I want yer nipples.”
She shuddered, then rested her hands on my shoulders, bringing her breasts to my face.
Her cunt clenched as I pulled first one and then the other nipple between my lips, biting them gently and sucking them up against the roof of my mouth. She didn’t wear perfume or scented lotion, and the only thing I could taste was her. The salt of her skin and the sweet of her skin were the most potent aphrodisiacs I’d ever encountered. I wanted to inhale her.
She finally leaned back and I watched one of her hands reach down to where our bodies connected, rubbing at the bundle of nerves there. Her lips were stretched around me, glistening with moisture, and I had a hard time moving my eyes away from the sight.
When her movements began to grow jerky, I glanced up at her face, and what I saw there made my entire body grow cold.
She’d hit her release and she was pulsing around me, but her head was lifted toward the ceiling and tears were running silently down her cheeks.
I was frozen for a moment, not sure what was happening, but as she shuddered one last time, one of my hands thrust out and grabbed her hip, stopping her movements.
Her head jerked down in surprise.
“What are you doing?” she asked, moving against my grip.
“Yer cryin’.”
“It’s okay.” She rolled her hips against me, and my stomach knotted.
“Why?”
“It was a really good orgasm,” she said, trying to play it off.
I met her eyes silently as she tried to move, but with every thrust and roll, I grew softer, until I lifted her off me before the condom could come off.
“What the fuck?” she asked in confusion, looking down between us.
I shook my head as I ripped the condom off, not sure what to say. I couldn’t…
I just couldn’t. I knew by the expression on her face that she was hurt, but I didn’t know what to say to make it better.
I would not fuck her while she cried. Ever. I didn’t care what type of tears they were, the sight of them erased all arousal from my body.
“Patrick?”
I walked away, tossing the condom in the bin and wetting a towel from the bathroom before going back to where she sat silently on the bed. She shuddered as I ran the wet towel over her body, starting with her neck and ending between her thighs.
“What just happened?” she asked quietly, wrapping her arms around her chest.
“I love ye—”
“Patrick, don’t,” she warned.
I ignored her. “I love ye. More den meself. More den anyt’in’.” I closed my mouth and tried to get my accent under control. I’d spent almost thirty years in the US, but I still found myself reverting back to the old pronunciations when I was fighting my emotions. “I’ve always loved ye.” I continued, “I’m not sure what happened dere or why ye were cryin’. But I will not ever touch ye when ye don’t want to be touched.”
