Page 38 of Shared

“Oh. Fuck,Cailín. Leanbh” he growls through his thrusts, plowing into me and burying himself deep. Stilled and panting, he stares into my eyes for what feels like an eternity. “If you’re going to ask like that, I’ll happily fill your sweet cunt day and night.” His heavy, breathy words waft over my cheek.

Without warning, his hips quickly work to a vigorous, eye-rolling pace that has me—has us both—hurtling toward a release. “Eyes. On. Me.” he demands, his voice pained. “I. Want. To. See. You.”

With my gaze locked on his, pleasure explodes through me, and a feral scream comes from my lips. He matches my animalistic cry, a guttural groan rattling from his chest as his cock twitches, shooting his release into me.

Sliding himself fully into me, he pins me against the wall and presses his forehead to mine. It’s silent—other than the spray of cooling water and our heavy breaths. We don’t need to say anything else. I know everything I need to from the way he holds me against him and stares into my eyes.

He fucking loves me… and he’s still here.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

VICTORIA

Lying in bed, I listen to the passionate sounds coming from the bathroom—Conor’s gravelly demands and Elena’s cries of pleasure.Fuck, I’ve missed listening to her come.Nearly as much as I’ve missed watching it. As much as I want to join them—to healus—I know they need this.Just like I did.I don’t mind giving them space, but I can’t deny the ache they’re causing between my thighs.

Rubbing my wand over the lips of my pussy, I tease myself with the vibrations to the sweet aria of her whimpers billowing from the shower. Parting my lips and spreading myself wide, I rub the thick buzzing head over my clit. The vibrations are so strong that I bite my lip to stifle my moans. It’s been days since my last orgasm, and I’m so needy that the wand takes just seconds to throw me over the edge. I come hard, my thighs quivering as I listen to Elena scream Conor’s name, but it doesn’t alleviate the ache. I turn up the speed and grind it over my clit, forcing myself to come again and again as I listen to her screams of pleasure.God… those fucking sounds.My trembling thighs ache, and my clit has grown sore, but it’s not enough…It’s not what I need.

The water stops, and I hear the soft murmurs of their quiet conversation and the sounds of towels rustling. They step out of the bathroom, both wrapped in towels and matching smiles.They’re fine.They’ve found each other again. I’m happy for them—I truly am—but I’m struggling to hide my jealousy.

I turn my head and press my cheek into the cool pillow, trying to hide what I’m feeling. Elena’s feet from me, but she feels worlds away. The distance between us is so vast that I don’t know how to reach through it—how to get her back.

Our entire relationship, I’ve been the strong one. The one who leads her and holds us together. But since Conor’s injury, everything feels upended. She watched me crumble, picking up the pieces when I should’ve been the one comforting her. She’s seen me at my rock bottom, and I don’t know how to go back to being the person she needs.The person I was.

They reach the bed, and the mattress shifts as Conor slides in behind me. He rubs his hand over my bare shoulder and whispers, “Thank you for giving us a little time. For understanding that she needed me the same way you did.” I don’t answer; I can’t answer. Without turning to face him, I nod into my pillow.

He pulls me into him as Elena jostles the mattress when she climbs into the bed. Her arm brushes mine, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels normal—like nothing has changed. The three of us nuzzled together in this bed like one perfect unit. But it passes, and every bit of longing I have for what Elena and I had between us rushes through my thoughts and pulls at my heartstrings.

I press harder against Conor, tentatively sliding my hand across his chest toward my sweet girl—wanting desperately to touchher, but I’m afraid.What if she can’t love this broken version of me?

“I love you both.” Conor’s voice is low and deep, breaking the silence and tearing me from my thoughts.

Tenderly squeezing Conor’s hand, Elena softly replies, “I love you, too.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to hide my reaction to her words—remembering the way she would look at me as she whispered those same words to me.

Keeping my eyes closed, I will the tears not to come—tears I can’t seem to stop falling these past few days. It’s like I’m mourning the intimacy the two of us—no, the three of us—had, and it’s slipping further away with every day that I struggle to address my issues.

The sheets rustle, and the mattress quakes slightly. I open my eyes to find Elena staring at me across Conor’s broad chest. She slips her hand over mine, our interlaced fingers resting between us over Conor’s heart. She stares into my soul, her deep dark pools full of sadness and need. “I love you, too, Vic.”

Her words and the longing in her gaze are enough to make me melt into the bed. Instead, it churns in my chest. A dull ache, trying to heal my vulnerability so that I can be strong for her again. To be the person she needs.

“I love you too, sweet girl.” My voice cracks, alerting them to the emotions I’m trying so desperately to hide from the two of them. Neither of them says anything, but Elena squeezes my hand a tiny bit tighter, and Conor tightens his arm around me.

“I’d endure anything for this.” Conor kisses my forehead and then Elena’s. “Anything to be here with the two of you.”

The room falls quiet, and I listen to the two of them drift into quiet sleep—their breaths growing soft and shallow, with Conor occasionally inhaling on a snore.A disruptive sound I hated until a few nights ago.My tangled thoughts keep me from my own slumber. I lie in the dark and listen to the two of them at peace until exhaustion finally pulls me under.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CONOR

A FEW DAYS LATER

I take another sip of my coffee, the bitterness of the dark roast biting at my tongue. Sunlight filters through the kitchen windows, casting shadows across the table in the breakfast nook as I take my seat. Elena sits across from me, our cups and a plate of croissants between us.

We don’t say much, but it’s comfortable.Simple.I can’t seem to stop myself from watching her, sipping her coffee and biting into the flaky pastries. Her mussed-up black hair falls into her face and over the rosy hue of her round cheeks.Fuck, she’s beautiful.

The light shuffle of feet draws my attention toward the other end of the kitchen. I turn my head, and my breath catches. Victoria is a mess. Her hair is tousled, falling in loose tangles around her shoulders. Her robe is untied, hanging open at the front, revealing my grossly too-large T-shirt beneath it. I can’t help but smile at the sight. She’s a wreck—a side she doesn’t show the world—and it’s fucking breathtaking.

“What are you smirking at?” she scoffs.

---