Chapter 22 Ciara
Chapter Twenty-Two
CIARA
Days might have passed since Ronan’s altercation with Stephen, but I’m still simmering, and to make matters worse, he’s been avoiding me like the plague.
I feel like I’m being punished, which is ridiculous, considering I’m not the one swinging punches at security.
I thought after cooling off, Ronan would have come up to bed to boss me around or maybe grovel on his hands and knees, but once again, I overestimated him, and I’m not sure I can keep putting up with the emotional whiplash he’s causing me.
Does he not want to fight for us? Because I can’t continue to do all the heavy lifting in this relationship. My mental and physical energy is already stretched thin because of the pregnancy.
Maybe this would be easier to deal with if Ronan were just avoiding me, but he’s not. He’s avoiding everything. He’s barely left his office in days, let alone the house, and I have a feeling it’s so he doesn’t have to leave me alone because the overprotective asshole fired Stephen.
I’m not sure if it’s just from his bodyguard duties or if he’s off the books completely, but either way, taking out his frustration on Stephen was truly the final nail in his coffin.
I’ve had enough.
I turn off the TV, which I was barely watching, and toss the remote down onto the couch.
Not having Stephen following me around has been weird, and I actually miss his company. While he might not have been a friend in the way that Mila is, I appreciated his efforts to listen and offer me advice when I needed it.
Padding out into the foyer in my bare feet, I pause as I listen for any sign of Ronan.
The answering silence tells me all I need to know. It’s thick and oppressive, like the life has been sucked out of this house.
He used to fill the space with his presence, and I hate to admit that I miss the sound of his voice and his laughter. But more than that, I miss his touch.
I miss the feel of his fingers interlaced with mine and the warmth of his mouth as he kisses my forehead before we go to sleep at night.
Sure, I miss his touch in other ways too, but right this minute, I would happily trade all the orgasms in the world just to have an actual conversation with my husband.
I take a deep breath, walk down the hall toward Ronan’s office, and when I reach the closed door, I curl my hand into a fist and knock against the wood.
“Come in.”
I open the door and step inside.
He’s exactly where I knew he’d be, hunched over his laptop as his fingers fly across the keyboard. He barely looks up, so I wait for him to notice me.
Ronan’s body stiffens, but his eyes remain fixed on the screen in front of him. “I’m busy.”
I walk over to the desk, touch my hand on the edge of his laptop, and close it.
“I’m sure you can spare a couple of minutes to your wife.”
“Ciara, I need to—”
“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to hide in here all day and pretend everything is fine.”
He gets up and comes around the desk. “I’m trying to work.”
“No. What you’re doing is avoiding me as well as this conversation.”
“And what conversation is that?”
He’s standing so close that heat radiates from his body.
A shiver runs down my spine as I fight the urge to reach out and run my hands over his chest. He must have snuck out of his office at some point because he’s wearing a fresh shirt and slacks, black of course, and when I inhale, I bite back a moan as I catch a waft of his musky cologne.
Damn hormones.
“The one where you admit that you fucked up.” I try to ignore the dull ache that is building between my thighs just from being in close proximity to Ronan.
The muscle in his jaw ticks as he looks down at me, his eyes so dark in the dim lighting of the study that they look almost black.
“I’m trying to keep our world from imploding, and that includes keeping you safe.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve barely spoken to me since you went off on Stephen for no reason. I was hoping for an apology.”
Ronan’s nostrils flare. “I went off on him because he was all over you.”
“No. He was doing exactly what you told him to do.”
“I didn’t tell him to flirt with you. In fact, I explicitly told him to keep his fucking hands off you.”
“Did you actually see his hands on me? Because I can tell you right now he didn’t touch me, but even if he had… You. Do. Not. Own. Me.”
“The hell I fucking don’t.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his body.
My breath catches as I brace my hands against his hard chest to steady myself.
Ronan’s grip isn’t rough, but it’s possessive, and I find myself sinking my fingers into his shirt to pull him closer.
Our faces are inches apart, and his breathing is ragged as he fights the urge to give in to the heat simmering between us.
I know I should push him away. I know I should make my point across, let him know what he did was unacceptable, that he is too infuriating and territorial, but I can’t. I’m too busy shaking with need.
“Ronan…”
And then his mouth is on mine.
All it takes is one brush of his tongue against mine for the ache between my thighs to become unbearable.
I rise onto my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth as his erection presses against my lower stomach.
Right now, I need him more than I need air.
He backs me toward the desk, and when the edge hits the backs of my thighs, Ronan reaches down to lift me up and perch me on it. He forces my thighs apart with his own and steps between them as his hands tangle in my hair, tugging hard enough on the strands to make me whimper.
I arch my neck, silently inviting his mouth to explore my skin.
Ronan obeys and starts sucking on the sensitive area, leaving me squirming as I grind my hips against the desk, desperate for relief.
I grip his shoulders. “Are you trying to prove a point?”
“I don’t know, am I?” His breath tickles my skin, and I shiver. “What point would you like me to prove, Ciara?”
Instead of answering, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer until he’s rubbing against my core through my leggings.
He kisses along my jaw. “Use your words, Tine Bheag.”
I only squeeze my thighs harder as I move my hips.
“Ciara.” Ronan pulls on my hair even harder so that my head falls back and I have no choice but to look up at him.
My eyes are lost in his. “Give me what I want. What I need.”
Ronan’s eyes flash before his lips crash against mine. His kiss is greedy, his mouth and tongue claiming me as he reaches for my leggings.
“Take these off.”
I don’t need to be asked twice.
I drop my thighs from around his waist and shimmy out of my leggings as Ronan starts unbuckling his pants.
When I’m completely bare from the waist down, I lean back on the desk and spread my legs, showing him exactly what I want.
“Beautiful…” He unbuckles his pants and pulls out his cock.
I whimper as he grips the base and moves to stand between my thighs once more, lining the slick head up with my entrance.
He doesn’t waste any time sinking his entire length inside me.
I cry out as he stretches me, and Ronan’s eyes go wide as my inner walls clench around him.
“Fuck.” His hands move to grip my thighs. “You feel so good.”
“We’re meant to be talking,” I gasp as he slides his cock free.
“We are talking.” He slams back inside me in one brutal thrust. “You’re telling me how good it feels to have my cock buried inside you.”
“Ronan.”
“And in return, I’m telling you how fucking beautiful you look as you take my cock.”
“Yes,” I moan as he thrusts his hips even harder.
“I can keep talking if that’s what you want, Tine Bheag.” Ronan reaches down between us to start rubbing his thumb over my clit in slow, lazy circles.
I let out a frustrated moan as I try to move my hips, but Ronan’s free hand is keeping me pinned to the desk. Once again, I find myself completely at his mercy.
“Is that a yes?”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I think you like being told how pretty you look with my cock inside that tight little pussy. Do you know how I know you like it, princess?”
“How?”
“Because I feel you getting even wetter for me. So, you can lie all you want, but your pussy gives you away every single time.”
“Asshole.”
Ronan’s eyes darken as he takes my clit between his thumb and forefinger and pinches the sensitive bud.
I cry out, my back bowing off the desk at the sharp rush of pleasure.
Ronan slams his cock inside me at the same time he pinches my clit again. The sensation is almost too much, and a sob starts to build in my throat.
“Give in to me, Ciara.” Ronan’s voice is thick with need.
I try to grip the edge of the desk to anchor myself, but it’s not enough. My body is completely out of my control, and the pleasure is so overwhelming that I can barely catch my breath.
“Ciara. Look at me.”
I blink and force my eyes to meet Ronan’s.
He slows down his pace and moves both of his warm hands to grip my hips, and for a moment, we both stare at each other. The only sound is that of his cock sliding in and out of my wetness and our heavy breathing.
“Give in to me,” he repeats as he continues to move inside me.
I know it’s no use. I can’t fight the pleasure any longer. So, I relax back against the desk and trail my hand down my torso.
“Fuck, yes, touch yourself, Ciara.”
I let out a moan as I reach between us to start rubbing my clit. It’s so sensitive and swollen that I barely need to apply any pressure.
“That’s my girl.” Ronan quickens his pace.
I moan as he grows even harder, which means he’s getting close.
“Come with me.” I rub my clit faster.
Ronan’s eyes glaze over as he looks down to where our bodies are joined, his cock completely covered in my arousal.
“Ronan…”
His eyes flick up to meet mine, a mixture of pleasure and agony on his face as he pumps his hips faster, hitting me so deep that it takes everything I have not to fall over the edge.
“Please, come with me.”
Ronan’s jaw clenches as he slams his cock into me, brushing that spot inside me that has me seeing stars.