Covet (Sinful Secrets 3)

“You can’t touch it yourself.”

He shakes his head, and I realize…I’m in for fun. I tease him wickedly—taking breaks to check how he’s enduring. When he spends deep in my throat, I suck his sex until he groans harshly.

“Do it again.”

I realize over the next few days that he’s back in the burrow…with respect to how he feels. His body hurts beyond his wounds due to the hiccup with the Dilaudid, and he craves sex.

“We’ll do it all again,” I reassure him one afternoon. I stroke his hands, which I’ve realized he likes, and kiss his cheeks. “And you’ll progress again. And you’ll feel better again.”

That night, I straddle his lap, and we make love with his sex sporting one of the condoms I ordered online at his direction.

Afterward, we shower, and I change his bandages. I see the round hole in his shoulder and the corresponding one at his back, and I can’t help weeping at the sight of it.

“It barely even hurts,” he whispers. “The worst part is not moving the arm. Because I want to hold you.”

That tincture is a bit like truth serum.

“Do you?”

He nods as I re-wrap the area.

>

“When I was on the boat…”

“Mm?”

“The Celia. I remember…I just…wanted you.”

“I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there.”

“I’m sorry I missed what happened with the doctor.”

“I passed out as Father Russo tried to get the gun from him. I believe I remember the gunshot sound, but that’s it.” I swallow. “I never saw him.”

I get his arm back in its sling, and change the dressing on his right shoulder—the one that had the surgery. Before I get it back into the sling, he strokes my hip with his fingers, presses his cheek against my belly. It’s one of his hugs.

“Don’t feel sorry,” I say. “Not for that.”

I get him settled with his two slings, and he shakes his head at the mirror.

I quirk a brow at his reflection. “Isn’t he that famous baseball player?”

He smiles sadly. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s sure easy on the eyes.”

We wander back into the bedroom, and I stop by my bedside table.

He whispers, “Get down on your knees Finley.”

And that is how he finds some equilibrium those first two weeks…until he’s able to move his arms more, bit by bit.

“Sit on my face, Siren. And stuff your fingers into your cunt.”

I do as he demands, and he licks me till I’m screaming.

Every day, it’s, “Suck me harder. I just need to…fucking come.”