The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters), Sheehan-Miles, Charles [reading an ebook .txt] 📗
- Author: Sheehan-Miles, Charles
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It was about two a.m. before we broke up for the night. Crank, Julia and Sarah were all clearly exhausted after a day of traveling followed by the show, so we made plans to meet the next evening for dinner. They were going to be in New York for three days, and I wasn’t expected at NIH until Thursday, so we had a few days to spend together. I didn’t get to see any of my sisters often enough, so I planned to take advantage of the time.
Exactly one heartbeat after the hotel room door closed, Ray moved to me, pushing me against the wall. His hands rose to my cheekbones, and he stared at me hungrily, eyes open.
“I want you right now,” he said in a low growl.
I inhaled in a rush, then grabbed his hips and pulled him to me, hard. With his head bent, his lips pressed into my neck. A flood of sensation took over as his left hand gripped my right, his stubble brushing on my collarbone as his right hand ran through my hair, knocking my hat to the ground. I let out a low, desperate moan, suddenly frustrated, in a rage that all these layers of clothing were between us.
Urgently, I clawed at his jacket, my hands slipping on the leather, and then I caught the zipper and yanked it down, then pushed his jacket down around his shoulders. My fingers dug in to his muscles, and he let out a soft, low throated moan as his lips grazed up to my earlobe, forcing my head back to expose the right side of my neck.
In a furious moment our coats and scarves, hats and gloves were in a pile on the floor, a trail of clothing behind us beginning at the door with my cloche and ending at the bed with my bra, then I was on the bed, his hands and his mouth everywhere.
I reached up and grabbed his shoulders to pull him closer. He looked me in the eyes, and his mouth curled in a slight grin, then the son of a bitch winked. He leaned close, putting his mouth next to my ear, and whispered, “Not too fast.” He grazed his teeth right down next to my shoulder and my entire body arched in pleasure. His left hand trailed carefully up my body, and I couldn’t tell where he was touching and where was air, every inch he moved was excruciating pleasure.
His mouth slowly moved along the base of my jaw, taking tiny nips, watching my eyes every step of the way. I lost patience and grabbed his face in between my hands and our mouths were together, open, his tongue touching mine, wet, probing, needy.
We slammed together, his coiled tense muscles against my body, and I whimpered as his left hand ran up and down my skin.
He repositioned his body, about to enter me. I pushed him, hard, rolling him onto his back, straddling him. I leaned close and whispered with a grin, “Not too fast.”
He groaned in frustration as I leaned my head close, letting my hair curtain, dragging over his neck, then his chest. He let out a low noise as I ran my hands down his ribs, letting my hair drag all the way down his chest, and everywhere my hair touched he arched his body hungrily.
Then I bit him, lightly, at the base of his ribs. And moved up, biting, again and again, letting my tongue just graze his skin in between each bite, until I reached his nipple.
That ended his patience. Ray gripped me in both hands and flipped me over, rolled on top of me, and for a raw moment stared in my eyes with such intensity I almost cried. Then I felt a moment of pleasure and need so intense it hurt as he entered me, and we both cried out, gasping our breath in a chorus of ecstasy.
My legs wrapped around him, our fingers were intertwined on either side of my head, both of our bodies slick with sweat, our mouths and tongues moving together, and I wanted to stay like that forever, I needed it to stay forever. We moved in rhythm, our breaths in unison, and finally I cried out, again and again, a shudder running through my body, my toes curling as I pushed against the bed, and we both collapsed into exhaustion.
Both of us gasped for air, and he collapsed against me, close but holding himself up slightly to not crush me. Slowly, very slowly, he rolled off and pulled me to him. I nuzzled my head against him, coming to rest on my side, my head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around me.
“I love you, Carrie,” he whispered between shuddering breaths.
“Forever,” I whispered.
We stayed that way until we fell asleep, and this time, there were no nightmares.
Keep Him Safe (Carrie)
I woke on New Year’s Day of 2013 with a smile still touching my lips. A crack of bright light shone between the blackout curtains of the hotel room, laying a diagonal line across the room. In the mirror, I could see Ray standing in the bathroom, door open, as he brushed his teeth.
His shirt was off, and it was hard not to just lay there, appreciating the powerful muscles of his arms and chest, even the faint scar on his arm where a bullet had just creased the skin but not hurt him seriously. His right shoulder bore a tattoo with crossed rifles, with the word INFANTRY underneath them.
Sadly, he finished brushing his teeth and slipped on a t-shirt. Not that the t-shirt hid much. I just hated having such a nice view blocked.
I slid
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