8. Cian
Cian
I ’m lost in the taste of her, in the feel of her, and I don’t give a fuck about how unhinged I am right now. Or how I swore to myself I’d never kiss her lips—only to do just that.
She drives me crazy. Everything about her makes me insane, from her sharp tongue, to her death glares, to her pouty lips. I crave to devour her whole, as much as I desperately need to push her away and save myself.
Right now self-preservation is the furthest thing from my mind.
Slowly, hesitantly, she melts beneath my touch, until she’s kissing me back. My tongue demands entry and she opens up. A satisfied hum sounds in the back of my throat. I palm her ass, pulling her close so she can feel how hard she makes me just by existing.
No one—not some sleaze in a restaurant or anyone else—is going to steal this woman away from me. I’ll mark her in every way that I can, from my lips, to my touches, to my cum.
Without breaking our kiss, I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my hips. I walk the rest of the short distance to our bungalow, savoring the taste and feel of my wife.
Fumbling to get the door open, I finally manage it, then kick it closed behind us. I turn, pressing Elena’s back against the door. Unable to resist a second longer, I grind my erection against her hot core.
I need her. Now. With the same urgency that a drowning man needs air.
“Wait.” She pulls away from me, and frustration tightens my jaw. “Did you know my brother?”
What? Why is she thinking about him right now?
I take a second to clear my head. To cool off enough to answer her random question.
“Yes,” I admit, dipping my face to her tender neck for a nibble. “He was a monster, a butcher, and I take pride in having ended his life. I’ll never apologize for that.”
Her pulse visibly flutters. “You remind me of him,” she breathes the admission, so low I almost don’t hear her. But I do.
I rear back, shock rippling through me. What the fuck? Her comment feels like being doused with ice water.
“Look, I may not have the best personality, but I am nothing like him. You hear me? Nothing.” I grind my teeth. How can she think I’m anything like that piece of shit?
Though, in all honesty, have I been anything other than demanding and cruel since our wedding? Apart from the sex last night, have I been kind, caring, or generous? Not really.
I shouldn’t have said what I did about her brother at dinner. All I wanted to do was push her away—it worked, all too well. Regret sears my chest.
Her soft, pleading voice soothes some of my hurt. “ Show me . Show me that you’re not cruel. That you don’t get off on tormenting or threatening me. Show me that you’d never hurt me. Because all I’ve seen of you so far is someone very much like my brother—and I hated him.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?
Anger heats my blood. What did her brother do to her? Did he hurt her? It sure sounds like it. My vision tints with red. I wish he were alive so I could kill him all over again.
Stroking her hair, I stare deep into her blue-grey eyes. “ Broc meala , I will show you that I am, deep down, a much better man.”
“Prove it.” The desperation in her voice guts me. How can I deny her wish? We’re married. We’re in this together for life.
“That’s a challenge I’ll accept.” I claim her mouth in a ravenous kiss. She trembles beneath my touch.
Threading her fingers through my hair, she deepens our kiss. She wants this, she wants me, and damn if I have the strength to deny her any longer.
Has my resolve to distance myself from her fallen like a house of cards? Yes, it has.
Do I give a shit? No, I don’t.
One look from this woman, one word, and she’s under my skin. When I have her in my arms like this, whimpering and writhing against my straining cock, tasting like heaven, I can’t think straight. Nor do I want to, consequences be damned.
The full moon’s light shines through the gauzy curtains, softly illuminating us. Elena hastily unbuttons my shirt, like she can’t wait to feel my skin, scars and all, and I’m drunk on her desire.
Grabbing the front of her dress, I rip it in two, from her neckline to her waist. I bought the thing, I can destroy it if I like.
Her surprised gasp, and full breasts spilling into my hands, are worth every penny.
Playing with her peaked nipples, I suck her bottom lip between my teeth. She moans, grinding her needy cunt against me as her hands explore my chest and shoulders, face and hair. It’s like she can’t get enough.
“Please,” she moans, “I need you inside of me. Now.”
I doubt she’s ready for me yet.
With one hand supporting her ass, I slip the other between her thighs to find her pretty pussy thoroughly soaked. She’s dripping wet.
I groan. Quickly unzipping my trousers, I release my cock and line myself up. I don’t know if she can take me or not, but I want to try. Slowly.
She whimpers as I push into her tight cunt. Fuck, she feels like paradise—this is heaven, right here on earth.
“Tell me to stop if it’s too much. I can get the lube?—”
“More. I need more.” She pulls me closer.
Hope rockets through my chest as I give her more. I give her every thick inch of me, and she rocks her hips, moaning in pleasure. She’s perfect. There’s no doubt in my mind that she was made for me, and only me.
I let myself do something I’ve never done before with a woman. I let go. I don’t worry about hurting her, or causing damage. The beast within me purrs.
Each powerful thrust draws a gasp from her lips, but her embrace spurs me on. Soon she’s meeting me halfway. Her small body takes me beautifully as I fuck her with wild abandon against the wall.
We’re drenched in sweat, our breaths mingle, our tense muscles demand release. I flick her clit and she screams out my name, which sends me right over the edge with her.
I bury my cock deep inside Elena, and empty my balls. There’s something so primally satisfying about filling her with my cum. I want to do it all over again. Soon.
Pulling out, I drop to my knees, steadying her with my hold on her slim waist. I lift her trembling legs over my shoulders and lap at her pussy, tasting our unique, mixed flavor.
“Oh my god.” She tugs my head closer, and I chuckle at how she’s insatiable. The vibration has her squirming, panting, and a wicked satisfaction unfurls in me at holding her pleasure in my hands. This time, she’s going to earn her orgasm.
“Cian, I need more.”
“I know, broc meala . I know.” Lazily, my tongue circles her clit. “But I want you to beg. That’s what I get off on. I want to hear you beg for your husband.”
“Please, Cian.” She whimpers.
I insert one finger, toying at her entrance. “What do you want?”
“Please make me come.”
“I think you can do better than that, wife.”
“Cian, husband , please, I’m begging you. Make your wife come on your face.”
Fuck yes . Warmth spreads through my chest. I groan against her clit.
“That’s more like it.” Pumping two fingers into her, I flick her nub with the tip of my tongue. “Come for your husband.”
Like a good girl, she does as she’s told. Fisting my hair, she falls apart in my arms, her release dripping down my chin as I lick her clean.
Standing, I lift her shivering body and carry her to the bed. I remove the remains of her ruined dress. After I shed the rest of my clothes, I join her beneath the sheets. My palm curls around the back of her neck and I kiss her, deeply, reverently.
In the course of forty-eight hours this woman has utterly destroyed me, and I never saw it coming.
She wraps her legs around my hips, and my cock slides home. This time, I make love to her—there’s no other way to describe how our bodies come together in perfect harmony.