Chapter 15 #2
Oh God.
I arched. “Ronan—”
He grabbed my thighs, pressing them into the blankets. “Be still and let me work.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d ever done this—or had it done to me.
But the experiences had been less than satisfying.
Derek didn’t enjoy it at all, and so the few times that he’d been willing to do it, I’d felt so self-conscious that nothing had come of it for either of us.
The others were more like boys than men, college-era flings during one of Derek’s and my “off” periods, men who bumbled around a woman’s anatomy like a video game they hadn’t figured out how to play.
Ronan, however, knew exactly what he was doing. He knew what to do with his tongue, with his lips, with the delicious scrape of stubble.
“Oh.” I could only articulate gasps and hums. “Oh—oh, God.”
“Nope.” His chuckle vibrated over my clit. “Just your husband.”
The vibration—or maybe it was the word that came with it—sent me over the edge. I came with a shout, his curls in my fists, my entire body tense under that skilled touch.
Still, he worked.
“That’s one,” he said before diving right back in.
My first instinct was to fight it. “I can’t—Ronan, please—I need a minute—”
“You don’t need a minute. You need this.”
One finger joined his mouth, then two slid inside me while his tongue continued its magic with my clit. I was already oversensitive, and before I knew it, his relentless touch had me climbing all over again.
“Ronan,” I gasped, twisting back and forth on the bed. “Please. I can’t—”
“Yes, you can, baby. Show me. Now.”
The second orgasm hit harder than the first. Longer. Deeper. I actually saw stars, my vision whittling into darkness split by sparks of light from the lamp and my own ecstasy.
When I finally came back to myself, Ronan was standing again, condom in one hand while he stroked himself with the other. His expression blended satisfaction, possessiveness, and something deeper.
It was the same expression he wore when he called me his wife.
Somehow, I managed to push myself up on my elbows. Normally, I would have covered myself, but for some reason I was comfortable on display for that intent gaze.
“Hi,” I whispered.
One brow lifted. “Recovered?”
Weakly, I nodded. “I suppose.”
With a swift move, he grabbed my legs and yanked me to the edge of the bed. “Good, because I’m nowhere near done with you.”
“Can I—” I tried to push up further. “What about you? What do you need?”
It didn’t seem fair to him. I’d already gotten two orgasms out of this deal, and he’d gotten, well, I doubt what happened on the couch was anywhere near as satisfying.
But Ronan just guided me back down before rolling on the condom. “Stay where you are. All I need is you.” Then he lined himself up. “Ready?”
With a hard swallow, I nodded.
“Words, baby. I need your words.”
“I—yes,” I said a little more loudly than was strictly necessary. “Yes—please.”
It was the right thing to say. Ronan’s eyes dilated clearly as he entered me, one inch at a time.
It was torture.
Gorgeous, perfect, excruciatingly delicious torture.
He was big. Bigger than he looked and bigger than my body, sore as it was after Vegas, remembered. He would move just a bit, then wait for me to adjust before pushing a bit more.
“Breathe, Laney,” he urged. “Just breathe. You can do this. You’ve done it before.”
I couldn’t argue. And something about the deep, soothing tone of his voice made me relax. Maybe it was because I already knew how to relax with him. Maybe it was because he’d already guided me through a different kind of relaxation once before.
But my body knew this man. It trusted this man. And I was finding that my mind—and maybe even a bit of my soul—wanted to trust him too.
Once he was fully seated, he covered me completely, balanced on his forearms to deliver a kiss that was gentle but still made me forget my name.
“Okay?” he asked several seconds later.
I hummed, rocking my hips up. Oh, yes. That felt good. “Yes. Very.”
Another chuckle vibrated deep in his chest. “Good. Because now I’m going to fuck you properly.”
I hummed in assent as he kissed me again. Yes, please.
He moved slowly at first, exploring me, watching my reactions as he built a rhythm we could both withstand.
“All right?” he asked again as he started to find the depths of me.
I arched into him, moaning. I couldn’t help it. No one had ever been so deep. “I—ah! Yes.”
“Good. Now touch yourself.” He grabbed one of my hands and slipped it between us, pressing my fingers to the places his fingers and mouth had already explored so thoroughly.
Immediately, I arched into our joined touch. “No, Ronan. I can’t—it’s too much. It’s too much.”
He thrust harder, almost like a punishment. “No, it’s not, baby. You’ll take it. You’ll take it because I ask you to. And you’ll give it to me because you can. Now be a good girl and come again while I fuck you, because I need to feel you squeeze my dick while I come this time. Do you understand?”
Why it turned me on so much to be ordered around, I couldn’t have said. I hated it when Derek did it. Would have laughed at any other man.
But as Ronan drove into me, he left no room for argument. No sign of a joke. This man, who always wore a smirk, always came with a quip, was dead serious.
I had no choice but to comply.
My fingers started to move with him.
He hissed as he pummeled deeper. “That’s it, Laney. You feel—oh, Christ—you feel so fucking good.”
“Don’t stop.” I was rocking with him now, chasing that now familiar ledge that fast approached. “Please don’t stop. I’m so—I’m so close again.”
“I know, baby. I know. Let go. I’ve got you.” Balanced on one arm now, he grasped my chin and delivered one more punishing kiss.
It was the final push I needed.
I came for the third time, moaning into his mouth, thrashing underneath his big body in a way that pulled him deeper. He followed with a shout and a bite of my lip before he buried his face in my neck and shook for several long seconds.
“Laney.” A drop of sweat slipped down his forehead and fell onto my shoulder.
“Ronan.” My voice was hoarse, like I’d been shouting for hours.
Eventually, he rolled to the side and slipped out to take care of the condom in my bathroom before returning to the bed. By the time he got back, I had managed to get under the covers, but only just.
“I’m staying the night,” he informed me as he pulled me onto his chest, urging my head over his heart.
There was no room for argument, and I found I didn’t have one as I nestled into his sweet, smoky scent.
Sleep beckoned, and I could tell by the gradual slowing of his heartbeat and breathing that it wasn’t long for him either. I allowed my eyes to shut, though part of me wanted to keep watching my ceiling or even steal a glance out the window.
The stars were out tonight, brighter than usual, even with the city lights.
It was silly, I knew, but part of me wanted to check that they were all there. And see if maybe, just like in the myth, another constellation had appeared with them. One story was that Dionysus, after falling in love with his wife, cast a tiara of stars into the heavens in her name.
Ronan Black wasn’t a god, but right now, it felt like he could do anything.
Even rearrange the stars. Just for me.