Chapter Nineteen
With Quasimodo safely outside the bedroom and the door firmly shut so he couldn’t sneak in and disturb us, I turned to face Cillian. “Don’t be too gentlemanly.”
“Define gentlemanly.”
“I’m not made of glass.”
His eyes slid over me in an X-rated perusal that left very little to the imagination. “You’re right,” he said. “No glass. Just flesh and bone and muscle.” His gaze lingered on the thick line of my erection pressing against the front of my jeans. “There might be some parts that are as hard as glass, though. Maybe even as hard as diamond.”
My heart thrummed behind my ribcage, heat washing over me in a wave that threatened to burn me alive if I didn’t get it under control. Was there such a thing as being too aroused? Present circumstances would say it was entirely possible.
Cillian pulled me against him and I melted, fingers wrapping around his biceps to give myself some stability. “This is stupid,” I said with a laugh.
“What is?”
“We’ve had sex before. Many times… in person… online. So it’s crazy that this feels like the first time.”
“It’s not crazy,” Cillian said, his breath warm against my neck and his hands moving in slow circles over my back that somehow managed to be just as soothing as they were arousing. “I feel the same. I want it to be the first time. I got it so wrong before.”
“It wasn’t wrong,” I insisted.
“It was! I treated you like a burger when I should have treated you like caviar. I devoured you in one go when I should have savored you.”
My hands slid to his lower back, plastering us even closer together. “I’m digging the metaphor, but can I be something other than fish eggs?”
Cillian made a sound that was half snort, half laugh. “A lobster?”
“Still too fishy for my liking.”
“Wagyu beef?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’ll do. I’ll be Wagyu beef. And in order to taste me, you need to unwrap me.”
“Not yet.”
I mock growled at the familiar words being brought back into play. “I’m beginning to think you’re a sadist.”
“Maybe,” Cillian admitted as he moved us closer to the bed. “But once I strip you, I’m going to get distracted, and I want to do this first.”
This was kissing me, and I had zero complaints. In fact, as we became reacquainted with each other’s lips after a long absence, it suddenly seemed bizarre that this was the first time since Cillian had been back in Paris. But then, we had spent most of that time at the hospital or traveling to and from it. And we might have shared a bed last night, but exhaustion had ensured I had no recollection of it beyond him getting in.
“God, I missed this,” I said between heated kisses. I couldn’t get close enough to him, Cillian seeming to feel the same, our bodies straining against each other. “I need more arms.”
Cillian laughed, the vibration tickling my lips. “What?”
I wriggled the fingers I had curved around his arse and then tapped the back of his neck with the hand I had hooked there. “I can only touch two places at a time. I’m greedy. I want it all.”
Cillian stole another kiss, his mouth a heated brand against mine. “First, you don’t like fishy stuff, and then you want to be an octopus. Make your mind up.”
“I never said I wasn’t contrary.”
“No, you didn’t,” he agreed as he pushed me down on the bed so I was sitting. When I automatically reached for him with plans to lie back and have his body cover mine, he refused to follow me down. “Do you remember that first night online?” he asked as he dropped to his knees on the carpet in front of me. “The fantasy that kicked it all off?”
“I remember,” I said, my voice husky.
“I want to do that. Only for real. Is that okay?”
“More than okay.”
He looked up at me with long-lashed brown eyes full of heat as he pushed my thighs apart and then crawled into the space he’d created. Leaning back on my elbows, I tried to remember how to breathe as he made quick work of the fastenings of my jeans. When he ordered me to lift up, I did, letting him pull my jeans down to mid thigh. In line with the fantasy, he left my underwear in place. “What happened next?” Cillian teased. “You’re going to have to jog my memory.”
“You licked my cock through my underwear,” I urged, too turned on to do anything but tell the truth.
“That’s right,” Cillian said, “I did.” The wet warmth of his tongue against my throbbing dick had me crying out as he bent his head. He traced the length of it, probing and sucking, the fabric of my briefs rapidly becoming sodden. To my relief, he didn’t drag it out like he’d done in the fantasy, reaching the part where he yanked my briefs down to leave me bare to his gaze far sooner.
I only had a couple of seconds to marvel at how hard I was before Cillian swallowed me down, his tongue probing into my slit to hunt down traces of pre-cum, like it was the nectar of the gods.
“Shirt,” I said between gasps, the constant rub of fabric beneath my grasping hands not doing it for me.
He obliged, pulling off my cock with an obscenely loud pop and yanking his T-shirt over his head in one swift move. He wasted no time in getting back to it, tendrils of sweet pleasure wrapping themselves around my nerve endings as I gave myself over to Cillian’s lips and tongue. It was better now that my hands could explore bare skin as he sucked me. I made the most of it, running my fingers over muscled shoulders… the curve of his pecs with their slight covering of hair… the peaked nipples that nestled within... and taut back muscles.
He pushed me right to the brink and then stopped, my breath coming in ragged pants as I wriggled out of my T-shirt, and Cillian pulled my jeans and underwear off the rest of the way. “Now yours,” I demanded while I maneuvered myself so I was the right way round on the bed and my head was on the pillow.
“Mine,” Cillian agreed as he stripped with no regard for teasing. Mere seconds passed before he joined me on the bed, the brush of his bare skin against mine making me groan. Now that we’d dealt with our clothes, we kissed again. Cillian had always been a great kisser; I’d just wished for more of it. Well, it seemed my dreams were coming true, my lover in no rush to move the foreplay on. “We can’t kiss forever,” I said, when we eventually stopped for a breather.
“Why not?” Cillian challenged.
“Well, for one, you have a business to run.” I ran my hand down his chest and encircled his cock, feeling the familiar weight and heft of it and remembering fondly the things it could do. My arse clenched at the memory of how good it felt stretching me and rubbing over my prostate. “And then there’s this little guy.”
“Less of the little, if you don’t mind.”
“Then there’s this monstrous guy that’s so big that me getting my hand around it must be a figment of my imagination.”
“Slight overkill, but I’ll take it. What about him?”
“He’s not going to be happy with just kissing.” I gave the cock in my hand a couple of firm strokes to prove my point, Cillian biting his lip to stop himself from moaning.
“He’s not in charge. I am. He had his turn, and he fucked things up.”
“Oh, so it’s his fault, is it?”
“Yep.”
“Good to know who we’re blaming.”
“Isn’t it?” With a devilish smile on his face, Cillian rolled me onto my back. I wasn’t shy about my body, so I was happy to let him look his fill. Besides, he’d seen every inch on camera over the past few weeks, and possibly had it recorded for posterity. We’d both danced our way around wanting to make dirty videos to enjoy later, without ever confirming if we had. And to be honest, I liked the ambiguity of it. It turned me on to think that Cillian might have spent time thinking and reacting to me when I wasn’t around. I’d ask him one day. But not today. Today, there were far more interesting things going on. Like the fact that Cillian was currently peppering my chest with kisses.
He paused, peering up at me through his eyelashes. “I never kissed you enough before, but I’m going to make up for it starting now.” And for the next ten minutes, he did just that, barely an inch of my body escaping his attention as he drove me crazy until I was squirming beneath him.
It had reached the point that Cillian proving he could do extended foreplay risked going on all night if I didn’t take matters into my own hands. With that in mind, I rolled him so I was on top. With hands braced on either side of him, I returned the favor of him blowing me and swallowed him down. His breathy exhalation of “Jesus!” less than a minute into it had me smiling around the cock embedded in my throat, which was no mean feat. We might have joked about the size of Cillian’s cock, but it wasn’t small.
Tension crept into his body in gradual stages, his chest suffusing with a rosy glow accentuated by the sweat that had broken out, and his fingers raking through my hair in a wordless plea either to stop or to continue until he came. Well, the latter certainly wasn’t happening.
When I reached for the condom and rolled it over his spit-slick cock, Cillian didn’t comment, his expression saying I could do anything I wanted to him. “I’m going to ride you,” I said, “until we both come. And then we’re going to rest and do it all over again.”
“How long are we going to rest for?” Cillian asked breathlessly.
“Five minutes.”
“Ambitious.”
I hid my smirk as I added a generous amount of lube to Cillian’s sheathed cock. “If you’re not up to it, then just say.”
“I’ll certainly give it my best shot.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Cillian had no complaints about my choice of position, heaving himself up against the headboard for better control as I threw one leg over him and braced myself. He ran a hand over my chest reverently, the thumb that brushed over my nipple sending shockwaves through my body. “I reckon,” I said as I reached behind myself to grasp hold of his cock and hold it in place, “that this has already lasted five times longer than any of our previous fucks.”
“Yeah…” Cillian said, his tone so guilty that I immediately felt bad for bringing it up.
“Hey!” I said, leaning forward to kiss him. “It’s just an observation. Nothing more. Now buckle up. Because things are about to get fun.”
“Things are already fun…”
Cillian’s last word became more groan than speech as I lined myself up with his cock and gravity did the rest to ensure the head of his cock breached me. I hovered there, thigh muscles straining as I rode out the slight throb of pain.
Cillian’s hands settled on my hips supportively. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” I managed a smile.
“Take your time.”
I laughed. “Are we going for some sort of record? Or have you taken up tantric sex?”
Rather than answering, Cillian kissed me, taking hold of my cock and stroking it at the same time. The twin distractions had me sinking fully onto his cock almost before I knew it, Cillian’s smile of victory clarifying that it had been intentional.
“Don’t stop,” I urged as I started a slow rise and fall, the hand that Cillian still had on my hip aiding in my balance. Slow wasn’t enough for either of us for long, Cillian surging up as I slammed down. “Going to come,” I gasped out, the thick length inside me providing too much stimulation as it rubbed against my prostate for me to last long.
I took over, stroking my cock in tandem with Cillian’s thrusts as he grew more and more desperate to come, his fingers digging into my hips as he changed to deeper thrusts that had me dangling on the precipice of coming. “Oh, God! Oh, God!” I said over and over again. “So fucking close.”
“Yeah,” he panted. “Come for me. Paint me with your cum. I want to see it.”
I couldn’t have said who came first, the two orgasms close enough together to be almost simultaneous. All I knew was that when it hit, it was nothing short of spectacular, and that I spent at least a few minutes slumped against Cillian’s chest with his arms wrapped around me before finding enough energy to deal with the condom and clean-up.
“This,” I said when both of our heart rates had returned to normal and we lay under the covers with my head pillowed on Cillian’s biceps and his fingers tracing patterns on my scalp, “was what I really wanted. Not multiple orgasms. Not teasing until I beg. Not a sex act that lasted as long as a marathon. Just this.”
Cillian’s fingers stilled before resuming the motion. “At the risk of sounding stupid, I don’t understand.”
“You always jumped straight out of bed after sex. At the office, it was understandable. At my place, though, you always had to leave to be somewhere else. And at your place…” The memories stung for a moment before I reminded myself that the past could only hurt if I let it. “At your place, there was always something that commanded your attention. Usually the dreaded phone call. So I took the hint and left.”
“You could have stayed.”
“Could I?” I turned my head to better see Cillian’s face. “And do what? Lie alone in your huge bed wondering what you were doing that was more important than spending time with me once you’d come?”
Cillian shook his head slightly. “We must have spent some time together after. I’m not a Duracell bunny. I do need rest.”
Despite the seriousness of the conversation, I laughed at the image he’d conjured up. “We didn’t. And I’m not saying that to be cruel. I’m saying it because it was one of the biggest things missing from our relationship. Great sex is… well, great. But intimacy matters more. To me, anyway.” The silence that followed my little speech was deafening, Cillian’s expression pensive. I had an inkling he was running through all our past sexual escapades to find an occasion when I was wrong. Well, good luck with that, because I wasn’t.
Finally, Cillian let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have been like that. It must have made you feel like crap.”
“It did,” I admitted. I plucked his hand off the sheet and played with his fingers. “Crap enough that I ran away to Paris.”
He pulled me in tighter, his arms wrapping around me. “You know how they have the Golden Raspberry awards for films? Like the opposite of the Oscars.”
“Yeah?” I said with a frown, not sure where this was going.
“I should have won whatever the equivalent is for boyfriends.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
“It’s in the past,” I said. “And I’m not bringing it up to twist a knife in your ribs. I’m bringing it up to make it clear what’s important. You know, communication and all that jazz. What I failed so miserably at before.”
“I’ve got it,” Cillian said, his voice tinged with regret. “Loud and clear.” There was a pause for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Only, in what is really unfortunate timing, I do need to take a leak. I’m allowed to leave the bed for that, right?”
My response was to almost shove him out of it, Cillian laughing as he regained his balance. “As long as you come back,” I shouted after his naked backside.
“You can time me.”
“I am. Fifteen seconds and counting.” I was smiling, though. The smile was still on my face when Cillian returned. As Cillian padded back across the room and got back into bed, Quasimodo slipped through the open crack of the door, portraying feline displeasure at being shut out.
My smile grew wider as we resumed our earlier embrace. Yeah, this was what it was all about. Orgasms were great. But this closeness, Cillian wanting to spend time with me even when his cock was no longer hard, was better. And I intended to soak up every single second of it.