Chapter 14 #3
“Cher…” There was a plea in the hoarseness of his voice, but his hands began to move, massaging her with care. “We’re playing a dangerous game.”
Eyeing him with heavy lids, she said, “You’re reminding me that my body doesn’t always feel pain.”
His eyes were hot with hunger as he watched his hands move in circles over her breast. They grew heavy and more tender, the skin flushing as it warmed.
He shifted his hips, and her gaze dropped, the ache between her legs intensifying at the sight of his cock straining against the restriction of his pants.
She reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his incredible hardness.
His groan was a desperate sound. “Ireland. This wasn’t meant to lead us into trouble.”
Wetting her lips with a swipe of her tongue, she stroked his thick length through the cotton. His thumbs and forefingers found her nipples and tugged, creating an echoing pull deep inside her.
She began to pant. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Flushed with lust, his lips reddened and parted, Ronan’s hips surged into her stroking hand. “Moi aussi, sorcière. Too much. I should stop this.”
Worried he would find the will to pull away, her fingers slipped under the hem of his T-shirt and found his waistband. She pushed beneath it, taking his erection in hand. He was already slick at the tip, the plum-sized head slipping easily through her fist.
Ronan’s deep, low growl vibrated up her arm. “We need to stop, Ireland.”
“You told me you fantasize about licking my pussy.”
His face was burnished by lust. “All the time,” he said hoarsely. “In the most inappropriate places. There’s never a moment I don’t want my mouth between your legs.”
Ireland licked her dry lips. “I fantasize, too. But not about that, although I love it. You tongue fuck my pussy so good, Ronan. I love to watch you eat me.”
His hands moved in gentle circles over her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the tight tips. The small curves grew heavier, plumped by his massaging hands.
“Your fantasy?” he asked hoarsely.
She fisted his thick length from root to tip, pumping another surge of precum over her fingers. Releasing him, she lifted her hand to her mouth, slicking her lips before running her hand down her belly. “This.”
His lips were parted for his quickening breaths. “Be more specific.”
“I don’t know if it’s a fantasy or a fetish?” She chewed her lower lip for a second. “I think a fetish is something you have in general, but this is specific to you, so maybe it’s not that.”
“Ireland.” Ronan gave her an amused look. “You’ve just wiped my semen all over yourself. Now you’re feeling awkward talking about it?”
“Ah… I think about you having an orgasm,” she whispered.
“I remember how it feels when you’re fucking me, and you finally let go.
The sounds you make. The look on your face.
And I remember how it feels inside me when you get off.
I remember how you taste when I suck you off.
And it’s just… Your cum turns me on like nothing else. ”
His chest was heaving now, his eyes glazed and hungry. His hands left her body as he sat back.
“I can’t explain it,” she went on. “I’ve never slept with any man without a condom before you, and getting ejaculated on…
I mean, just saying it…it’s very much not my thing.
But you… that you’re so turned on by me…
you’re an animal in bed. And it just feels right to want you in any way, and it makes me hot just thinking about having you come on me. In me. With me.”
He moved, planting one knee on the couch beside her and one foot on the floor. He caged her into the corner of the couch with his arms and murmured her name.
Ireland looked up into his beautiful, stormy gray eyes, trying to read his thoughts.
“You were meant for me,” he told her, his voice as smoky as his gaze. “And I for you.”
He bent to take her mouth, his lips on hers urgent and demanding. She shivered with desire at his need, now fully unleashed. He kissed her long and deep, his tongue fucking her mouth in a way that made her pussy wet with envy.
Straightening away from her, Ronan stood.
His breathing was harsh and loud as he pulled off his shirt and threw it aside.
His body was a sizzling display of honed power.
His shoulders were broad, his hips narrower.
He was leaner than when they’d first made love, his muscles even more defined.
Dark blond hair dusted his chest and arrowed down the center of his abdomen to his waistband.
Perspiration glistened in the valleys between each slab of muscle, and there was a dark, wet spot on his pants where the tip of his raging erection pressed hard against the material.
The sight of him made her core ache in the best, most maddening way.
Holding out his hand to her, he helped her stand. Then he caught the waist of her shorts in cautious fingers and pulled them down to the floor as he crouched. Before she knew what he intended, he’d caught her hips in his hands and pressed his nose and mouth against the lips of her pussy.
“Ronan.” She gasped as his tongue slipped between the wet folds, licking strong and fast to taste her. His moan of pleasure sent heat flaring across her body.
He licked her labia until he’d collected every slick of moisture, then he stood and guided her back to her seat. He studied her, then grabbed a throw pillow, tucking it behind her. “Can you spread your legs comfortably?” he asked curtly, too aroused to temper his tone.
Ireland, too, was fevered with desire. He’d had that effect on her from the moment their hands had touched, because some primal sense in her had recognized that Ronan Boudreaux, for all his Southern charm and polished exterior, was inherently untamed.
Wild. And the feeling of safety she’d always had around him made that unbearably exciting.
She adjusted herself, leaving her bruised leg as it was and lifting the other to stretch across the couch.
It was erotic, opening herself for him as he watched, seemingly patient but for the heated demand pouring from him in waves that buffeted her.
She grabbed another throw pillow and tossed it on the floor.
Ronan’s mouth curved in a tight smile as he lowered to his knees. He slid his hands gently between her buttocks and the sofa cushion, lifting her slightly to bring her hips to the edge. “Are you comfortable? I’m going to be here awhile.”
Ireland stared at his intent, focused face, and a soft whimper escaped her as she nodded.
His hands cupped the inside of her thighs, pinning them in place. “You’ll tell me if at any point you become uncomfortable or if something hurts.”
She nodded again. And then she was arching back with a cry as the heat of his mouth latched onto her sensitive clit, his mouth vibrating against her as he growled.
His tongue lashed furiously with hot, wet pressure.
There was no slow build, no gentle savoring.
He was as ravenous as he’d ever been, tautly focused on licking every trace of her desire, his head tilting slightly to deepen the forays of his tongue into her pussy.
She strained into his mouth, her hips lifting into those wickedly shallow plunges, the pleasure so intense because he loved it as much as she did.
She could hear and feel him swallow, his groans as she grew slicker only serving to make her even more aroused.
When he shifted his attention to her clit, she trembled at his greed, his tongue strong and tireless, the tip working her into a frenzy that rivaled his.
The orgasm broke across her body with no warning, her cry of release thready and startled.
Ronan made a sound of such ferocious exultation that it misted her skin with sweat, his mouth sliding lower to claim the slickness of her desire as his reward.
She was hypersensitive now, his thrusting tongue into her swollen, tender tissues so delightful, Ireland wasn’t sure she could bear it.
When he wrapped his lips around her clit and drew on it in soft, sweet suction, she came again, her thighs trembling beneath his palms.
The more she came, the easier and quicker the next climax followed, until she hardly caught her breath between each shattering pleasure.
When he finally pulled away and stood, the flesh between her legs was so oversensitive that she almost came from the feel of his gusting exhale flowing over her.
Ronan pushed his pants down just enough to free his cock, revealing how he glistened from root to tip, the neatly trimmed hair at the base damp with his pre-ejaculate. That he was so fiercely aroused by her pleasure stirred her, even after all he’d done to wring her out.
He took himself in hand, stroking himself from root to tip. His hand was bigger than hers, his strokes rougher and slower. He groaned, his legs shaking with his need to release. Standing over her, his gaze roamed, his jaw tightening as he was reminded of her injuries.
She swallowed past a dry throat, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t see me as a victim.”
His face contorted for a moment; his eyes filled with something deeper and more profound than tenderness. “Never, tigress. Never.”
His stroking hand quickened its pace, and Ireland knew he was mere moments away. The sight of him, tense with expectation and dripping with sweat, was so erotic she knew it would be seared into her memory forever.
His breathing quickened, his face flushing as the climax neared.
“Don’t waste it,” she gasped, parting her labia with shaking fingers. “Give it to me. Pump it inside me.”
A spurt of cum shot across her belly before his knees bent to find her.
He was quivering in orgasm as he pushed inside her, the lubrication ensuring her body gave no resistance to his incredible size.
The pressure and fullness were delectable, but it was the sound of her name shouted hoarsely as he hilted inside her that set her off.