Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

“No, you’re not,” he replied gruffly, too clever for his own good. “You’re just saying that to distract me.” “Is it working?” He nodded stiffly. “Don’t stop.”

“I’ve broken this more times than I remember,” Johnny told me, pointing to his nose. “The worst time was last summer.” He grimaced before adding, “They had to file the bone and rebreak it to set in back in place.” My eyes widened. “Back into place?” “Yeah.” He smirked. “I was walking around the place with my nose touching my cheek.”

Releasing a pained sigh, Johnny gave me a detailed rundown on his appendix bursting when he was thirteen and then his stomach turning inside out when he was in recovery, resulting in another procedure before treating me to an up-close-and-personal interaction with his belly scar.

Johnny leaned forward and pointed to a disgusting-looking piece of frayed skin above his right knee. “This one put me on my ass for an entire summer.”

Johnny showed me several more of his battle wounds, chuckling every time I groaned or gagged. The conversation seemed to be distracting him from his pain and I was glad.

When my eyes reached his again, I found him watching me, his dark-blue eyes heated and locked on mine.

Shakily, I lifted the towel away and stared down at what looked like a recently sewn scar on his inner right thigh. His thigh was swollen, purple in color, and the angry-looking, weeping scar was partially concealed by the fabric of his boxers. “Oh god, Johnny,” I strangled out, sliding off the bench and onto the floor to get a better look at it. “Don’t hurt me,” he warned in an achingly vulnerable tone. “I won’t,”

Gently, I reached for the hem of the leg of his boxer shorts and carefully lifted the fabric away from his flesh, only to gasp at the sight. His thigh was hairy with the exception of a six-inch patch of skin. And that particular six-inch patch of skin was swollen, angry-looking, and a horrendous brownish-yellow in color.

Gently, I traced the scar and surrounding bruising with my fingers. “Does it hurt when I touch you like this?” “It hurts,” he replied, tone hoarse. Exhaling a heavy breath, I stroked his thigh and fought the urge to press a kiss to his cut. “For an entirely different reason,” he croaked out.

A temporary slip in sanity caused me to lean forward a press a kiss to his thigh. The sound that tore from Johnny’s chest was a pained, guttural groan. “Shannon, please—” I kissed him again. “Fuck,” he grunted, legs shaking now. “I can’t…” The third time I kissed him, he fisted my hair and pulled my face to his. “Shannon,” Johnny groaned, sounding both pained and breathless, as he gently pressed his forehead to mine. “We can’t—” I silenced whatever he was about to say by putting my lips on his.

“Me, too,” he replied gruffly, gaze flickering from my eyes to my mouth. “Why are you sorry?” I breathed, trembling from head to toe. He cupped my cheek with his free hand and tilted my chin up. “Because I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered. And then he kissed me.

Finally wthhhh

The moment his lips crushed against mine, a fierce blast of heat coursed through my body, igniting a delicious burning ache in my belly. Unable to think straight, let alone breathe, I did the only thing I could do given the circumstance: I reached up and grabbed his forearms and kissed him back. This was my first real kiss, minus the disaster in his bedroom, and I had no idea what I was doing.

When I felt one of his hands trail down my arm and settle on my hip, I lost it. I completely and utterly took leave of my senses. Shivering uncontrollably, I let my back sag against the doorframe as my hips thrust closer to him. I was drowning in my feelings as they crashed through me like a wrecking ball. The more he kissed me, the more my body trembled uncontrollably.

moaned into his mouth when I felt the tip of his tongue trace against my bottom lip. Realizing he was waiting for me to open my mouth for him, I parted my lips and held my breath when I felt his tongue slip inside my mouth.

Gently, he touched his tongue against mine in slow, patient strokes. Oh God. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I was kissing Johnny Kavanagh. Johnny Kavanagh was kissing me back. He had his tongue in my mouth, his hand in my hair, and my heart in his pocket.

Uncertain, I tentatively snaked my tongue out and stroked his. Johnny rewarded me with a low, approving growl that came from somewhere deep within his chest.

Johnny staggered backwards and sank down hard on the wooden bench. The impact caused a grunt of pain to rip from his chest, but he never took his lips off mine as he tossed his crutch away and pulled me between his legs. His hands moved from my face to my waist, clamping down hard, and the move caused a moan to tear from my throat. He responded to my small gasp of surprised pleasure with a low growl of approval of his own.

“Are you okay?” I breathed against his lips as I held onto his shoulders. “Just keep kissing me,” he strangled out. “I want you so much.” I shivered violently. “You do?” “So fucking much,” he groaned against my lips, and then his hands were on my thighs, his fingers hiking my fitted skirt up to pool at my hips before pulling me down on his lap, encouraging me to straddle him.

AHHHHHHHHHH

“Am I doing it right?” I breathed against his lips, feeling achingly aware of my inexperience. “More than right,” he assured me, claiming my mouth once again. “This is my first kiss,” I moaned against his lips.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he assured me, filling my mouth with his hot tongue. Falling back into a deep, drugging kiss, I allowed myself to relax and absorb the sensations jolting through me. He felt so good. His lips were so soft. His body was so hard. His smelled so nice. He tasted so sweet. I was drowning in feelings. Unable to stop myself, I snaked a hand through his wet hair and tugged.

He rewarded my bravery with a low growl as he clamped his hands on my hips and dragged me down on his lap at the sam...

Johnny grunted into my mouth and I froze, suddenly aware of his injury. “Am I hurting you?” I asked against his lips. “Only if you stop.” He knotted his hand in the back of my hair and deepened the kiss.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

I was starving for him. Ravenous. I needed this boy. I was desperate for him. I ached and I yearned and I admitted that now, with an open mind and a vulnerable heart. The more I rocked against him, the more he encouraged me to move, pulling on my hips, grinding our bodies together.

“Fuck,” Johnny groaned into my mouth. Startled, I broke the kiss and tried to scramble off Johnny’s lap. Tried being the appropriate word because Johnny caught ahold of my hand and pulled me back to him.

“Think about how this looks.” “I don’t give a fuck how it looks,” Johnny snarled. He jerked to his feet only to quickly stagger backwards and collapse on the bench with a pained grunt. “You don’t talk about her like that,” he bit out, nostrils flaring. “No one talks about her like that.”

He shook his head again, eyes looking slightly glazed before finding focus on my face. “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, voice slurring a little. “For what?” “For not”—he closed his eyes and exhaled a pained groan—“kissing you back that night.”

“I’ll be okay,” Johnny told me, giving me a wink before grunting in pain when the paramedic prodded his thigh. “Fuck!”

“Bye, Johnny,” I whispered, hovering in the doorway, fighting back the urge to run back to him. His pain-filled eyes landed on mine. “Bye, Shannon.” I love you. I am so in love with you. Please be okay.

“You’re feeling like this because you care about Johnny.” Nodding, I clenched my eyes shut and tensed my body to stop the tremors from racking through me. “And maybe because you love him?”

“I’m so in love with him, Claire,” I confessed, and then I burst into tears. “I love him so much that the thought of him not being okay is killing me.” “Does Johnny know how you feel?” I shook my head and cried harder. “I shouldn’t have left him,” I sobbed. “I should have stayed with him.” “You couldn’t,” she said in a gentle tone. “Mr. Mulcahy would’ve never allowed you.”

Gibsie, in turn, nodded wearily. “He’s out of surgery. Everything went fine,” he quickly added, looking at me. “Your boy’s alright, little Shannon. Take a breath.” “Thank god,” I breathed, pressing my hand to my chest.

Gibsie grimaced. “According to his dad, it was blocking Johnny’s sperm cord or some horrific fucking catastrophe like that.” Shuddering, he added, “Could have seriously damaged his chances of having a family further down the line.” “That’s what was causing him all that pain?” I croaked out, devastated to think that he was in so much agony. “Oh god.”

“Are you going to see him?” I asked. “Hell fucking yes, I’m going to see him,” Gibsie grumbled. “And you’re coming with me.” “Me?” “Yes, you, little Shannon,” Gibsie replied. “He’ll want to see you.”

“You had surgery, son,” my father explained. “Fuck,” I croaked out. “Is my dick still there?” “It’s still there.” Dad chuckled softly. “And my balls?” “Also there,” he mused. “All in working order.”

“You’re sure my dick’s still there?” I kicked my feet, but they weren’t being cooperative. “I really like my dick, Da. I’ll cry if it’s gone.” “Most lads like that part of their anatomy, Johnny.” Dad chuckled. “And I promise it’s still there.” “Check for me,” I mumbled, feeling woozy as fuck. “Just to make sure.”

Lmaooooooo

“Da, there’s a girl,” I announced when the door clicked again. “I know, Johnny,” Dad said calmly. “That was your nurse.” “No, no, no,” I slurred, shaking my head. “There’s a girl, Da. A girl.” “Where, son?” “There’s a girl on the bus,” I slurred. “I need you to find her for me.”

“No, Johnny, love, you’re not dying.” “Thank fuck,” I groaned. “’Cause I wanna see that girl again.”

slurred. “I think I love that girl.” “Well, who’s this girl?” “She’s a river.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “I’m keeping her, Da.” “Okay, son,” he coaxed. “You keep the girl.” “She makes my heart go, like, whoa.” “Is that right?” he mused. “So bad, Da.” I sighed. “Boom, boom, fucking boom.” I shook my head. “All the time.”

Sweetie pie

“Not too much longer to wait.” I sighed. “Thank fuck, ’cause I’m in love.” “You’re in love?” I nodded happily. “And she’s a river.”

“I’m gonna sail my boat down her river,” I snickered. “My dick boat.”

Lololol

“It’s okay, Ma,” I coaxed. “I’m gonna keep her, too. Make all my babies with her because my balls work—and Da says I can pull on my dick again. Woo!”

“And I’m gonna buy her a ring…and a dog…and sail a boat…and I’m gonna look at her tits because I can.” I sighed in contentment. “She’s got the best tits, Da.”

“Shannon?” I roared, calling out her name at the top of my lungs. “Shannon?” “Let the girl in, Edel,” Dad mused. “He’s going to scream the place down like a toddler otherwise.” “Shannon!” “Oh Jesus, fine!” Mam muttered. “You better behave yourself, Jonathan.”

And then I heard those two words. “Hi, Johnny.” “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”

I love him omgggg

“Hi, Johnny,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” Johnny slurred, clutching his chest. “I’m done for.”

“I wanna see her, Ma,” he groaned. “I can’t see her.” My heart leaped in my chest. “Me?” I squeaked. “Always you,” Johnny groaned.

“See her, Da? See? So fucking beautiful!” Johnny announced. “Told ye all.”

“She’s too far away.” “I’m here, Johnny,” I croaked out. “You’re here?” He nodded, more to himself than anyone else. “Don’t leave me again.” My heart squeezed in my chest and my words came out in a small puff. “I won’t.”

“Come closer,” Johnny purred, his bleary eyes trained on my face as he crooked his finger at me. “I wanna show you something.”

“I don’t care how high you are, Jonathan Robert Kavanagh Jr., I will cut it off if you so much as think about showing her.” “Show me what?” I asked nervously. “My dick,” Johnny announced, twisting to face me. “You wanna see?” He smiled lazily up at me. “It’s all better now.” Gibsie threw his head back and howled laughing.

LMAOOOOOOO