Chapter Twenty
TWENTY
MAVEN
I’m brimming with regret before we’re even halfway down the hall. The grin of victory he’s wearing is obscene.
“Please stop gloating. It’s giving me indigestion.”
“You’ll forget your indigestion in a few minutes. Do you still like to have your nipples bitten?”
Red-faced and sweating, I chew the inside of my cheek.
“I’ll take that as a yes. But you’ll have to be more verbal than that, baby. This isn’t a guessing game. I want to know exactly what you like.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a toddler. I’m full grown, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, I have. My arms are already starting to ache.”
When I glower at him, his blinding grin grows even wider. “Fuck, I love it when you’re homicidal.”
“I’d say I love it when you’re silent, but as that’s never happened before…”
We enter the bedroom. It’s as cavernous and sparse as the rest of the house, with tones of beige and black competing for dominance. “I’d ask if you’re allergic to color, but I don’t really care.”
“Time to stop throwing knives and be nice to me.”
He tosses me onto my back on the bed, then stands staring down at me with fire in his eyes. Hyperventilating and hideously self-conscious, I cover my face with my hands and peek up at him through my fingers.
His body is spectacular.
He’s all golden skin, rippling muscles, and excellent proportions of powerful limbs. A smattering of dark hair highlights the breadth of his chest and winnows down in a thin line to his flat stomach.
He has tattoos he didn’t have before, thick bands encircling both his ankles and wrists. They’re unusual in design, non-Euclidian patterns and glyphs that seem to subtly shift as he moves.
I’m distracted from those by his erection. Thick and veined, it juts out from between his legs as if it’s proud of itself. Which it should be. If there were a Best in Show for penises, his would win.
Scientifically speaking, he’s a prime specimen of human anatomy.
If only his personality wasn’t so revolting.
He crawls over me on hands and knees and stares intently down into my face. “Move your hands.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m hiding.”
“I have a blindfold if you want it.”
I fling my arms out to the sides and glare at him. “Try and put it on me, and you’ll bleed out on that stupid monochromatic rug.”
Smirking, he chuckles. “Didn’t think so.”
Closing my eyes, I groan. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
He lowers his head and whispers into my ear, “No, little witch. This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
When I feel his warm mouth on my neck, I shiver and suppress a moan. He bites my skin, then starts to suck, and the moan breaks free.
Leaning on his elbows, he cradles my head and kisses his way down my neck to the hollow of my throat. He dips his tongue into it, chuckling when I shiver again.
“Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His mocking tone indicates we both know who’s in charge here, and it isn’t me.
I slide my hands into his hair and adjust his head so I can kiss him.
He responds with a low sound of pleasure in his throat and lowers his body to mine.
With his weight pressing me into the mattress and his erection pressed between my spread legs, we kiss until I’m dizzy and squirming underneath him.
He breaks away from my mouth and bites my hard nipple, right through my shirt.
“No bra,” he growls, elated. “Panties?”
When I whimper, he bites my nipple again, just hard enough to sting. The pleasure of it makes me arch into his mouth and shudder.
“Find out for yourself,” I say breathlessly, feeling my pulse in every part of my body.
He accepts my dare. Pushing up my shirt, he licks a path down my belly to the button of my jeans. He nuzzles his nose underneath the waistband. Then he pops open the button and pulls down the zipper with his teeth.
Dipping his head, he inhales deeply against my skin.
He makes a sound like an animal’s growl, a low rumbling that reverberates through his chest and my pelvis. My skin breaks out in goose bumps. My nipples tingle. It becomes difficult to breathe.
When he yanks my jeans down my hips, I gasp in surprise. I don’t have a second to recover before he shoves his face between my legs and starts licking me.
Eating me, rather. Voraciously, as if I’m his last meal.
With his hands gripping my bottom, he tongues my swollen clit until I’m moaning and bucking, rocking my hips into his face. He slides a finger inside me, and I sink my hands into the thick softness of his hair. He adds another, and I cry out helplessly in pleasure.
“I never got this before,” he growls, sliding his thick fingers in and out. “My mouth on your sweet cunt. I’ve been dreaming about it for years.”
My breath hitches. An aching sensation expands inside my chest. I spread my legs wider and rock my hips faster against his mouth, fighting the wave of emotion cresting inside me.
He sucks on my clit and reaches up to pinch my tight nipple. I jerk and shudder, calling out his name. He makes a humming noise, encouraging me, pulling on my nipple as he swirls his clever tongue round and round and round.
I climax into his mouth, sinking my nails into his scalp and screaming.
Outside, a boom of thunder rolls through the sky, rattling the windows. A flash of lightning briefly illuminates the room. Then rain starts to fall, hammering against the room in a sound like a hail of bullets.
As I convulse and jerk against the mattress, he continues the sweet torture with his lips and tongue until I’m a quaking mess of twitching limbs and labored breathing, trying desperately to blink away the water gathering at the corners of my eyes.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. This was only supposed to scratch an itch I couldn’t get rid of, nothing more.
But apparently, my seventeen-year-old heart has a long, strong memory, because I’m feeling all kinds of ways I haven’t in years.
Vulnerable.
Bewildered.
Scared.
Ronan sits up and pulls my boots off. Tossing them aside, he drags my jeans all the way off my legs. Those are thrown to the floor, too, then he manhandles me out of the rest of my clothes until I’m naked.
Settling himself between my thighs, he kisses me deeply. His skin is smooth and burning hot. The weight of his body is delicious. The crisp dusting of hair on his skin tickles my nipples. I wrap my arms around his back and sigh.
“If you need to tell me you’re madly in love with me, it’s okay,” he says next to my ear.
“You’re lucky if you leave this room alive.”
Stifling his laugh against my neck, he reaches between his legs, grasps his erection, and slides it between my thighs.
“Ready?”
“Dear God. By the time we finish, I’ll be a hundred years old. Just do it, already!”
With a powerful thrust of his hips, he drives inside me.
Arching my back and gasping in pleasure, I dig my nails into his back. His laugh sounds euphoric.
He fucks me with short, hard thrusts until I’m moaning and begging him incoherently not to stop.
He does, of course, because doing the opposite of what I say is pretty much his whole thing.
He rolls over onto his back, grips my hips in his hands, and gazes up at me, eyes shining, chest rising and falling fast.
“Take your hair out of that goddamn braid.”
His voice is thick. His nostrils are flared. He licks his lips like an animal about to devour its dinner.
Breathing hard, I smile because he’s helpless. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
He watches with blistering intensity as I pull the elastic off the end of my braid.
I take my time unwinding my hair because I can tell the wait drives him crazy.
When I’ve finally got it all free, I run my hands through it and shake my head, letting it fall all around my shoulders and down my back.
He stares up at me in silence, his gaze slowly traveling over my body, lingering on my breasts, then dropping to my belly. He squeezes my hips again, grinding me against his pelvis.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers gruffly. “Goddamn, Maven. Look at you.”
The adoration in his voice makes my chest tighten. I swallow and shake my head, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him.
If he keeps talking like that, I might do something unforgivable. I’d rather throw myself into the ocean and get eaten alive by sharks than cry in front of my worst enemy.
Except “enemies” is no longer the right word for what we are. Maybe it never was. Maybe I only wanted it to be so I could feel like I was protecting myself, when in reality, there’s never been any protection from him.
He’s always been the snake with the apple, and I’ve always been Eve.
There isn’t a happy ending to our story. There can’t be. Our fate was written in the stars long before we were ever born.
“Stop thinking,” he commands, then thrusts up into me, making my breasts bounce.
I flatten my hand over his chest and push down. “Stop ordering me around. You gave up control when you opened the door.”
Before he can argue, I start to ride him hard, bouncing up and down on his dick until we’re both moaning and sweating. I tip my head back and close my eyes so I don’t have to see how handsome he is, his jaw slack and his eyes half-lidded, all the muscles in his stomach clenched.
When I release a guttural groan and shudder, he sits up abruptly and wraps me in his arms.
“Are you gonna come for me again?”
“Not if you keep distracting me with all this blabbering.”
Breathing hard, he whispers into my ear, “You’re so fucking wet.”
“I should’ve brought a gag.”
“You can put a gag on me if you’ll let me tie you up.”
“In your dreams, pretty boy.”
“Exactly.”
He lowers his head and sucks hard on my nipple. With my arms wrapped around his shoulders and my legs spread open around his hips, we rock against each other until the headboard is banging against the wall and the room is filled with the raw sounds of pleasure.
When he bites my nipple, my orgasm hits me like an explosion.
Exultant, he growls, “Oh fuck, yes, baby. Say my name.”
I do, over and over again, sobbing as I arch and cry out to the ceiling. I’m mindless with pleasure, impaled on his cock and drowning in his scent, helpless to stop the huge wave of emotion cresting over me.
While I’m still convulsing, he rolls me to my back, flips me onto my belly, drags me up to my knees, and plunges inside me again from behind, gripping my hips and grunting.
I close my eyes and bury my face in the duvet. He orgasms with a shout and a full-body jerk, fingers digging into my flesh, then groans brokenly.
Finally, he leans over and rests his burning forehead between my shoulder blades.
We stay like that for a long moment, breathing hard and trembling, listening to the wind howl through the trees outside.
After a while, he rouses and presses a soft kiss to my spine.
Then he withdraws and gathers me in his arms, curving around me so we’re lying on our sides, spooned front to back.
He pulls the duvet over us and tucks it in around my body.
I’m glad I’m facing away from him because the sweet trail of kisses he peppers over my shoulder and neck make my soul ache.
His warm breath stirs the hair at my nape when he speaks.
“You good?”
Exhaling heavily, I close my eyes. “You made it thirty seconds without speaking. That’s a personal record for sure.”
His chest shakes with silent laughter. Then his lips find my skin again, exploring the sensitive space beneath my ear. “I just wanted to check to make sure you weren’t reaching for the ice pick you had hidden in your hair.”
“I was. I was just giving you a second to catch your breath before I stabbed you with it.”
“Wanted me fully recovered before you killed me, hmm?”
“Yes. I want it to hurt.” After a moment, I grow serious. “This can’t happen again. You know that, right?”
It’s a long time before he says anything. He lies tense and silent behind me, his body thrumming with energy.
“I don’t know anything except I’m glad you’re here. Let’s leave all the other bullshit for tomorrow. We can have tonight without having to figure out what it all means right now.”
I close my eyes and let him hold me until his breathing slows and deepens and his arms around me grow slack.
Then I carefully rise and dress, looking back only once to burn the memory of him sleeping in my mind’s eye before I silently walk out the door.