In the Shadows

Not you again - Chapter 3

"Kelly?"

I shake my head as the tears come. Conor saying my name in that soft, caring way breaks my walls apart and I don't want him to see.

"Just leave me alone," I beg. "I'll get out of here tomorrow, I promise."

He continues to tug me back until I'm perched on his thigh, looking at my hands, anywhere other than those smoky eyes that have always seen straight through me.

"Look at me," he demands, gripping my chin hard and forcing me to face him. "Are you telling me you left because your Dad threatened me?"

His strong features look even darker and deadlier than ever. There's no trademark cheeky smile to smug smirk now. Setting my lips in a tight line, I blink and grimace as he pushes to his feet, sending me flying off his leg. He catches me as I stumble and spins me around so we're face to face.

"Don't mess with me, Kelly. Would you have left me, anyway? Did you really want to get out?"

His face is so earnest, and I can't lie to him, even though I know it's probably kinder to stick with the story I concocted.

"Never. I would never have left you."

He sucks in a breath and turns away, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling with a hand to his forehead.

"And I never got out, Conor. Not really. I was always living on borrowed time until Dad used me to his advantage. But I knew it was the only way you'd let me go."

Conor moves so fast he's a blur. He lifts me and walks me back to the sink in one movement, sitting me up on the cabinet so we're eye to eye. I can't help admire the bulging muscles in his arms as he puts one on either side of me and leans in.

"You lied. Five fucking years, Kelly, and it was all a lie?"

I nod, relieved now to not have to pretend anymore. John will kill me the second he finds me. I may as well go with a clean conscience. His hands bury themselves in my dark hair and wrap the long strands around his fingers. He presses in close and rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.

"Why Kelly? Why didn't you tell me?"

Refusing to answer, I just enjoy his closeness, daring to reach out and rest my hands on his waist, feeling his tight, hard body through the thin material and itching to pull him tighter to me.

"Fuck," he breathes before crashing his lips against mine. It's like a dam breaks and we're both desperate to reconnect. I know he's still angry. I can feel it in the harsh way he holds me in place as he takes my lips and invades my mouth, but I can deal with that. Once I get to have him again, even if it's just this once.

"I thought you didn't love me," he growls against my neck as he finally lets me breath and turns his attentions to the delicate skin there that he knows drives me wild. I shake my head emphatically, needing him to understand now that I've opened this can of worms.

"I've never stopped. I'll never love anyone else."

He groans and I squirm, locking my legs behind him and hooking my fingers through his belt loops to drag him tight to my core. He's already hard, the impressive bulge in his black jeans lining up perfectly with my needy pussy.

"I missed you." He won't admit he feels the same and I don't care, that he doesn't hate me is all I need.

"Show me. Show me how much you missed me," I dare, and he straightens, looking at me for confirmation that his is what I really want. I nod, licking my bottom lip before dragging it between my teeth. Trailing my fingers along the waistband of his jeans, I watch as his stomach tenses up at my touch. I boldly pop the button and pull down his fly, letting my fingers graze the straining erection instead.

"Jaysus," he mutters, sounding completely shellshocked as shimmy forward and lift my dress, getting it up over my hips and then pulling it over my head. I'm not wearing any underwear, this stupid scream dress John forced me to wear, not allowing for anything underneath. If it weren't for the bruises covering my body, I like to think he'd be impressed with how I look.

He smooths his hands up my thighs and grips my waist hard, before letting his hands drifts higher to cup my breasts, massaging them roughly and pinching my taut nipples with just the right amount of pressure. I moan and tilt my head back, savouring the familiar sensations as he re-acquaints himself with my body.

Conor shoves apart the front of his jeans and takes his cock in his hand. He's rock hard and just as thick and tempting as I remember. Without a word, he notches himself against my entrance and meets my eye, giving me the chance to change my mind. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again, hard, letting him feel exactly how much I want him. He grabs my hips as he pushes inside, slowly, until he's fully seated. I gasp as he fills me completely. Conor's hand around my neck forces me to look at him as he pulls back and thrusts hard into me. He not only taking back my body, he's reclaiming my soul as he pounds hard into me over and over. I cling to him, crying his name when he reaches between us and strokes my clit in time with his steady thrusts.

"Did he make you wet like this? Did he get to feel your insides tremble when you're about to come apart?"

His hold on my neck tightens as he speaks against my ear. When he nips my earlobe and I squeal, his thrusts become faster and more brutal. He's punishing me for leaving him and for being with another man.

"He never. We never. That's what the bruises..." I don't get to finish the rest because his lips smother mine in a devastating kiss. It's like he's trying to consume every bit of me with devouring kisses, nips and bites, caresses and tight squeezes to every inch of my body.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kelly," he chants as he nears his release. Each powerful thrust becomes more erratic and more frantic. He presses down hard on my clit and I scream his name as my orgasm crashing over me. My back arches and my limbs twitch as I hold on to his shoulder, digging my nails into his shoulders.

"Mine," he roars as he shoves his thick cock into me again, hard, and fills me with his hot cum, pulsing his hips languidly until the last of his seed empties deep inside me. He falls forward, bracing his hands against the steamed-up mirror behind me and panting hard. When he kisses my shoulder tenderly, I melt.

"So..." I can't help still feeling awkward. I have no idea if this was some kind of goodbye or release for him, or if it means something more. Given we're now running for our lives, it seems silly to even be worried about it.

"So, you're fucking mine again, Kelly. John the prick O'Shea or your gobshite of a father don't get to decide for us. But next time you run from me, or lie to me, I'll never forgive you."

Conor lifts me carefully down off the counter and sets me on my feet, keeping his arm around me until he's sure I'm steady enough on my feet. He grimaces as he tries to do up his trousers.

"You're in pain. We shouldn't have..."

Guilt floods me. I know he took a beating this evening. His handsome face is cut and broken and he's favouring one side as he walks. There's no way we should have been shagging tonight. If he really means we're back together, we'll have all the time in the world. Or at least until John finds us.

"Worth it. Now, get that pretty ass into bed while I tell Declan the good news."

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