Craving Resurrection

  “I’m havin’ a grand time,” he answered cautiously. “Aren’t ye?”

  “Of course. Peg’s been introducing me for the past two hours to people I’ll probably never see again, my feet are killing me because of these stupid shoes, I’m hungry, but every time I make it to the kitchen I get stopped by someone and I don’t get the chance to eat, I haven’t even spoken to you since we got here, and now you’re drunk, and if I’m feeling what I think I’m feeling, you just spilled beer down the back of my wedding dress.” My voice never lost its cheerfulness as I spoke, but his brows drew together as if he was trying to decide if I was joking. “I’m having an awesome time.”

  I reached behind me to find his hand, and took the bottle from his fingers before he could do any more damage. “I’m going to find your mom to see if she can get me out of this dress.”

  “Wait,” he ordered, pulling me back against him. “I wanted to take it off ye.”

  I sighed, looking around the yard as people watched us. “I don’t think you’d even be able to at this point, Patrick,” I told him quietly.

  “Dat’s a load of shite.” His fingers wound into my hair, pulling it tight as his hand reached my scalp. “I’ve had a few, but I’m not tanked.”

  “It’s okay. Really. I’m just going to go see if your mom can help me. I’m really uncomfortable in this dress.”

  “I told ye I want to take it off of ye.”

  He leaned down and kissed me hard, sliding his tongue into my mouth with little finesse. His technique didn’t matter in the slightest to my body, though. The minute his lips closed over mine, I relaxed into him. He’d been smoking not long before and the yeasty taste of the beer he’d been drinking mixed with the subtle taste of tobacco, the combination setting me on fire. I didn’t even notice the yelling and whistling until Patrick started to sway my way and I was suddenly holding him up instead of the other way around.

  “Patrick,” I called, pulling my mouth away as he tried to right himself.

  “Ye make me head spin,” he informed me with a lopsided smile. “Would ye like to come meet de lads? I want to show off me gorgeous wife.”

  My heart sunk as I realized he hadn’t heard a word I’d said, but I smiled anyway. “Sure. Give me a couple minutes, okay? I’m going to find your mom real quick.”

  “Alright, me love.” He kissed me tenderly on the forehead then grabbed his beer from my hand and spun from me to saunter away.

  How could I be mad when he was having so much fun? He was an adorable drunk, and the way he usually looked at me seemed to be magnified with alcohol, turning it from loving to almost worshipful. No, I wasn’t mad, not really.

  I was just overwhelmingly disappointed and hurt.

  Rubbing my left hand over the top of my right one, I searched the crowd for Peg, but couldn’t see her so I headed for the back door. When I got there, I realized that people had started clearing out, and there were only a few stragglers left inside the house. Too bad the people in the yard seemed like they’d be staying a while.

  My hands began to burn as I knocked on Peg’s door, and I looked down to see a few small welts appearing as she opened it up. I couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks.

  “What’s wrong, sweet girl?” she asked, pulling me inside and closing the door. “ I was just changing into something a bit less fancy so I could start cleaning up.”

  “Could you help me change?” I asked quietly.

  “Well, didn’t ye want—”

  “I want to change now,” I interrupted. “This dress is starting to feel really heavy and my feet hurt… I just want to get it off.”

  “Well, okay then.” She opened up the door and marched through the living room while I followed behind her, and soon we were in my room.

  “Turn around so I can get to those buttons.”

  A few more tears rolled down my face while she painstakingly unbuttoned every small button down my back, and I tried not to remember how I’d imagined hearing a ripping sound as Patrick lost patience with the small pieces of plastic and fabric. I’d giggled when I’d tried the dress on, imagining Patrick’s frustration.

  “Well, if I’d known I’d be the one doin’ this, I would have advised ye to get the gown with the zipper,” Peg commented with a huff, causing me to snort.

  “If you just do a few more, I can get it off my hips.”

  “Okay, give me one more minute… there, see if that will work.”

  I brushed the sleeves off my shoulders and watched silently as the dress gaped in front and then slowly started to sag. Then, I clenched my jaw and shoved the bodice down over my hips until it billowed on the floor around me. I stepped out and sat on the bed, silently unbuckling my shoes and rubbing my sore feet.

  Peg moved to the door, turning when I finally spoke.

  “Would it be really rude if I stayed in here for a while?” I asked. “I’m getting a headache.”

  She searched my eyes before nodding twice. “That’s fine, dear. Ye lie down for a bit. The only people left are too drunk to care where the guest of honor is.”

  Once she was gone, I took off the fancy, light blue bra I’d bought for my wedding night and slipped on a pair of Patrick’s sweats and a large flannel shirt that was tucked into the bag he’d dropped off the night before. They smelled like him, and I pulled my head into the neck of the shirt like a turtle so I could take a huge whiff. It was the best scent in the world.

  I crawled under the sheets that I hadn’t thought I’d be sleeping in, and it didn’t take me long before I was falling asleep with tears dripping occasionally off my face.

  What a horrendous wedding night—the sun hadn’t even gone down and I was in bed alone.

  Chapter 22

  Amy

  I woke up later to the familiar feeling of Patrick sitting down on the edge of the bed, but I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t want to see him. The memory of the reception was vivid in my mind, and I absently realized that my hands felt better, which meant the welts had gone away.

  “I know yer awake.”

  “I’m surprised you are,” I replied, opening my eyes.

  He was hunched over, facing slightly away from me, looking down at his hands that were running along the satin of my discarded bra. He was still wearing what he’d had on before, but his hair looked as if he’d been running his hands through it, and the goofy smile was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, finally raising his face so he could meet my eyes. “De lads were handin’ me drinks, and I hadn’t seen dem in a long time between bein’ away for school and spendin’ all of me time wit’ ye... I lost track of time and how much I’d had.”

  “Is this how it’s always going to be?” I asked quietly. “Me standing on the edges while you just go off and do whatever with your friends?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I didn’t know any of those people, Patrick.”

  “I didn’t t’ink.”

  “It’s our wedding day. Or it was…”

  “Still is. It’s about ten o’clock.”

  “You ignored me on our wedding day.” The words came out garbled as I tried to speak around the lump in my throat.

  “Aw, love. Don’t do dat. Don’t cry.”

  He dropped my bra as he stood, and I watched as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his trousers before tearing it off. Next came his shoes and socks, and then finally he was unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his thighs until they dropped to the floor with everything else.

  I let him pull the blankets back and crawl in beside me, and it was a tight fit in the tiny bed as we lay facing each other.

  “What de hell are ye wearin’?”

  “I didn’t think I’d have company.”

  “Christ, how are ye not sweatin’ yer arse off?”

  He reached under the blankets between us, and shoved down on my sweats, tearing them off my legs before tossing them behind him.

  “What are you doing?”

 
“I know yer angry. I’m not tryin’ to fuck ye,” he answered in disgust.

  “Then what are you trying to do?” I asked as he leaned over me and unbuttoned my shirt.

  “I just need to feel ye.” He spread the sides of the flannel wide, then smoothed his hands down my sides. “It’s been so long since I felt yer smooth skin.”

  “How did you know I was in here?” I asked as he lay down on his back and pulled my body against his side.

  “Did ye t’ink I wouldn’t notice dat me brand new wife went missin’?”

  “You seemed busy.”

  “I wasn’t.” His arm tightened around my back.

  “I bet your mom told you.”

  “She did.”

  “Did she give you hell?”

  “I t’ought she was goin’ to stab me in front of all dose witnesses.”

  “Good.”

  “Ye can’t go askin’ me mum to fight yer battles.” He reached out to tip my chin toward him. “She’s got no place in dis marriage.”

  I stiffened against him, pulling my face from his hand—angry and hurt all over again.

  “I didn’t ask your mother to say anything to you,” I snapped back, pushing against his chest so I could sit up to and wrap the flannel back around me. “Someone had to get me out of that fucking dress!”

  “I told ye I wanted to take ye out of it. I’ve been fantasizin’ about dat very t’ing since ye stepped into de fuckin’ church!”

  “Then maybe you should have listened when I said I was tired! Maybe you should have stopped for one second to think about me, your wife! Instead, you went back to drinking with your friends.” I choked back an angry sob. “Maybe if I hadn’t felt like a leper when my hands started to break out, I could have stayed outside and you could have helped me with my dress!”

  We were screaming at each other, and it was absolutely heartbreaking because it was the last thing I wanted to be doing. What had I done? Why had I married this man I barely knew? Where was the Patrick I loved? Why was I in bed with this stranger?

  I tried to climb over him, but he was up and tossing me back onto the bed before I could get anywhere. Our chests were heaving, and I wanted nothing more than to lock myself away from everyone and cry my eyes out.

  “I hated not bein’ near ye,” he said, pinning my legs with his and bracing his elbows near my head. He reached down to grab my wrist and pulled it between us, inspecting my hand before letting go and doing the same thing with the other one. When he was finished, he kissed it before placing it against his heart. “It felt as if I was comin’ out of me skin when Mum pulled ye off to introduce ye to people. But at de same time, de closer we were, de harder it was to stop meself from kickin’ every one of dose people out of de fuckin’ house. I’m dyin’ for ye. I’ve been dyin’ for ye for mont's, and once I knew I could have ye, it was torture not to do so.” He leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. “I was just tryin’ to distract meself wit’ de lads. Dat’s all it was. Just until it was over and I could have ye to meself.”

  “You hurt my feelings.”

  “I’ll try not to do it again,” he said earnestly, ghosting a kiss over my lips.

  There was my Patrick.

  “You looked so handsome today,” I whispered, lifting my hands to his face. “I’m sorry I threw such a fit.”

  “I was an arse.”

  “You were, but you’re not now.”

  “Forgive me? I’ll make it up to ye.”

  “Just don’t go out for a smoke or something and leave me giving birth on my own.”

  “I’d never do dat.” He ran his hand against the side of my face, then threaded his fingers through the hair at my temple. “I’ll never leave ye again.”

  “I love you.” There was forgiveness in my words.

  He sighed into my mouth, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I love ye, too.”

  His head tilted as his hips pressed down, and I spread my knees to make room for him above me as his tongue slid into my mouth. He groaned as I dug my nails into the back of his neck.

  We were ravenous. We bit and licked and sucked at each other’s lips and tongues, fighting for the dominant position, but it wasn’t long before he’d gained the upper hand with a jut of his hips. We’d never had so few layers between us before, and my breath caught as he ground against my clit through our underwear. The feeling of him with so little between us incredible, made even more so by the lack of hair shielding my femininity. I could feel every single movement, every twitch and slide.

  “I thought we were going to a hotel?” I gasped as he tore his mouth from mine.

  “I cannot wait dat long.” He leaned back on his knees and pulled me with him, lifting my arms above my head so he could slide off my shirt. “We’ll go later.”

  “But—”

  “Me mum’s stayin’ at Kevie’s mum’s tonight.” He assured me, setting his palm on my breastbone and shoving gently so I fell backward. “She didn’t want to intrude on our arguin’.”

  His smile turned devious, and then he was twisting around to shove all but the bottom sheet off the bed, mumbling. “We’re goin’ to need a bigger bed.”

  My nipples pebbled hard as he turned back to take me in, and my stomach became even more concave as I tried desperately to catch my breath. He was all muscle. His chest was muscular, and it tapered down to a rock hard stomach with a light thatch of hair swirling below his belly button. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he reached out, and I shuddered as he laid his palm flat on my throat then dragged it down the center of my body until he’d reached the band of my light blue underwear.

  “Ye bought de fancy undert'ings I asked for.”

  “Yes.”

  “Dere gorgeous, but dere comin’ off.”

  He pushed the tips of his fingers beneath my underwear at my sides and slowly slid them down as I raised my hips from the bed. It was a smooth motion, slow and steady, until suddenly, he paused for a moment before ripping them down my thighs. I was startled, my body frozen at the unexpected move, but I didn’t resist as he lifted one leg and then the other to pull the blue scrap of satin completely off.

  He was staring.

  “What did ye do?” he asked hoarsely.

  The reason for his change in demeanor became clear and mortification set in. I laid my arm over my face.

  “I tried to trim it.”

  “Dat’s not trimmed. It’s gone.”

  “I had a bit of a mishap,” I replied sheepishly, peeking at him from under my arm. My body was cooling from the lack of stimulation and the conversation.

  “Yer alright?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  He was still staring at my pussy, and it began to get a little annoying.

  “Are we done? It’s getting a little cold in here.”

  His head whipped up in surprise and I glared at him. Couldn’t he tell that I was getting embarrassed?

  “It’ll grow back!” I huffed in annoyance.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “It’s…” His fingertips traced down and over me, making me jolt. “Don’t let it grow.”

  My body began to heat again as he traced over me gently, and goose bumps popped out all over. He slid back on his knees until my legs were propped up over his thighs, and suddenly his fingers were moving farther down and sliding through the slickness.

  “Lovely,” he whispered.

  “Lovely,” I groaned back, my hips tilting upward to give me better access.

  “Are ye nervous?” he asked, barely sliding his index finger inside me before pulling it out again and repeating the motion. He leaned down to kiss my sternum, and I slid my fingers through his hair.

  “No, I’m ready.”

  “Not yet, but ye will be.”

  His lips slid down my belly as the rest of his body slipped to the floor, and then he was gripping my thighs and pulling me down until my ass hit the edge of the bed. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I had an idea, an
d any reservations I may have had were gone as he looked at me hungrily.

  “Why do you keep staring?” I asked quietly, propping myself up on my elbows.

  “I’ve only seen dis in magazines.”

  “You’ve seen other women before.”

  “Not bare ones… and don’t bring up ot’er women in our bed.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It is to me.” He leaned down and ran his lips over the skin between my legs, making me arch sharply as he pulled away.

  “De possibilities are endless,” he said, pressing my legs farther apart until the sides of my knees almost touched the sheets. “If ye’d not shaved it off, I could still do dis—” He swiped his tongue up the center of me, making the muscles in my pussy clench hard. “And I could still do dis—” Then he flattened his tongue and rubbed it strongly against my clit.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “But it wouldn’t feel de same if I did dis—” He sucked one of my lips into his mouth and rubbed his tongue across it at the same time, ending with a small bite against my flesh that made me jump.

  “I can see everyt’in’. Feel all dis soft skin,” he murmured against me. Then he opened his mouth as wide as it could go and pressed it over my entire pussy, sucking gently. I could feel it everywhere, and my arms started to shake, but I kept them planted in the bed so I could continue to watch him.

  His eyes were shut tight as he closed his mouth, rubbing his lips against me, but they opened back up when my hips began to roll beneath him. Everything he was doing felt so good, but I needed more. I needed something inside me. I needed friction. I needed something. I was panting as he lifted his face, pursing his lips to place a gentle kiss on my clit.

  “Are ye ready?”

  Before I could answer him, his face dropped again, and this time I wasn’t able to hold myself up and fell to the bed.

  His tongue rubbed small circles over my clit, bringing my orgasm closer and closer as his thumbs rubbed up and down the sides of my opening, the skin so slick that there was virtually no friction. Each time they came closer and closer to the center of me, until suddenly, one slipped barely inside.

  My hips rocked against him as he turned his hand, then suddenly his thumb was gone and he’d slid his index finger all the way inside. I ignored the small pinch I felt as I got closer and closer, and my neck arched as he groaned against me. Finally, his other hand came to my belly, pressing down as if to brace me, and I shattered, yelling as I came.