Chapter 23 Verity
Verity
Anton never went down on me. The one time I suggested it, he looked at me with distaste, like I'd asked him to lick a carpet. It had left me wondering if there was something wrong with the taste or smell of my pussy.
My body hummed with pleasure as Ronan sat back on his haunches and wiped his mouth on my towel.
It belatedly occurred to me I was naked from the waist down, and also fucking hot.
Not to mention swimming in endorphins and oxytocin, which were enough to counteract the shame of allowing my best friend's brother to give me the best orgasm of my life, with his mouth.
Good girls didn't sit back and let bad boys give them oral sex in a sauna. Was I embracing my slut phase? Saoirse would likely say I definitely was, only I couldn't tell her about this.
"One more for the road," Ronan joked with a grin before diving back between my thighs. I was so overly sensitive, his stubbly jaw brushing over my clit had me shrieking in pleasure-pain.
"No!" I tried pushing him away.
"Yes, Pixie."
He thrust one, then two fingers inside me while pulling down my bra and squeezing my breast. Then he tongued my clit, using small swirling movements designed to drive me insane without actually pushing me over the edge.
My body clenched around his fingers, desperate for more. Desperate for something thicker, harder. Like his cock.
Good sense flew out of the window as I pleaded with him.
"I want more!"
"Tell me what you need," he urged, his gray eyes almost black with arousal.
"I need more!"
"Words, Pixie. I need your words." He licked me harder and added a third finger.
"I…I…want your…" My throat refused to let the words out. The minute I said what I wanted, there was no going back. Until this point, I still had plausible deniability.
Ronan had ambushed me. Pushed me beyond my comfort levels. The accident had left me traumatized, so it wasn't my fault I'd capitulated. Plus, I'd taken high-strength painkillers. I was pretty sure that would excuse most things.
However, if I specifically asked him to fuck me, it would cross a line.
Did I really want to take that step?
God, yes. Even if this was a onetime thing, I needed to know what good sex was all about. My experiences to date had all been shitty as hell. No orgasms whatsoever.
"My what, Pixie?" His grin told me he knew exactly what I wanted, but he planned to make me say it.
"Your cock!"
"Thank fuck for that." He leaped to his feet, picked me up, and carried me into the changing room. The change in temperature was a welcome relief to my overheated, sweaty skin.
Adept hands removed my bra, and when Ronan sat down on the wooden bench, he pulled me astride his massive thighs. I looked down to see his cock wedged between us, thick and weeping.
"Are you on birth control?" he asked, serious for once.
It took a moment for my brain to whir into life.
"Yes, but…" I'd only used condoms with Anton, but had Ronan been practising safe sex?
"I'm clean, Pixie. I got checked last month, and there's been nobody since you got here."
"Nobody?" That didn't sound at all like Ronan.
"Nobody. Cross my heart. And there will never be another woman except you from this moment onward, so sit on my dick, Pixie, before I explode."
He lifted me like I weighed nothing and slid the head of his cock inside my wet pussy, groaning loudly. The painful stretch told me he was the biggest guy I'd ever had, which wasn't difficult considering there'd only been three other guys, all of them average-sized.
Was Conal this big? A shiver went down my spine as I imagined taking both of them. Together.
"Easy, Pixie," Ronan groaned in my ear as he eased in deeper, one torturous inch at a time. "Fuck, you're so tight. I can feel you rippling around me."
I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his spicy scent. A faint tinge of embarrassment still gripped me hard. Did he think I was fat? Anton thought so and had told me many times while using me as a human sex doll.
Ronan must have felt me tense up as the memories washed over me, because he stopped moving.
"Are you alright, Pixie? Am I hurting you?"
"No, I'm…" Tears fell.
"Fuck, this was a terrible idea." Ronan looked stricken as he lifted me off his dick. "I've hurt you. Do I need to call the doctor back?"
I sniffed. God, I was stupid. Way to ruin the best moment of your life, Verity!
"I'm sorry, I got inside my head. Anton used to say shit to me while we had sex."
Ronan went still. His dick had softened, but I noted how impressively large he still was.
"Shit like what, Pixie?"
"Hmm."
"It's OK, you can tell me, baby."
"He said I was… fat." I wiped another tear away. If Ronan laughed at me, I'd never recover from the shame.
"He said you were… fat?" A string of colorful curses, plus some stuff in Gaelic I couldn't interpret, streamed from his mouth. "Pixie. You are not fat. You're the most perfect woman I know, with curves to die for. Curves I've fantasized about for weeks."
Objectively, I knew he was being sincere—no man got a hard-on for a woman he didn’t find sexually attractive—but I'd spent so long internalizing the bullshit from Anton that it was hard to erase it.
"You've had a lot of women," I pointed out. "You're not exactly… fussy." This was me being diplomatic, and we both knew it. Ronan had a reputation as Ireland's biggest fuckboy.
"Yes, I may have fucked a lot of women, but I do have standards," he scowled. "And you are way prettier and sexier than all those women." His gaze softened as he held my chin and forced me to look at him. "None of those women hold a candle to you, Pixie. My dick only wants you."
Sure enough, his dick had recovered and was currently throbbing against my belly.
"It does?"
He smirked before lifting me up and walking us both over to the wall. I marveled at the way he made holding me seem effortless.
"Feel how hard I am."
I shuddered as he slid back inside me. This time, I stayed present, my legs locked around his waist. I'd already allowed Anton to ruin the last few months of my life. Not thinking about him again would be the best revenge.
Ronan's hips flexed as he powered into me, each thrust pushing me higher.
When I finally fell apart for the second time, he picked up his pace and followed me over the edge a few moments later.
I clung on to him as he carried me back over to the bench, my eyes firmly closed and my body limp and pain-free.
"Time for a shower, Pixie. Let's get you cleaned up and then you can take a nap in my bed."
It was dark when I next woke. Even with my eyes still closed, I knew this wasn't my room. The mattress felt firmer under my hip, the sheets silkier and the pillows softer. The scent of citrus and male wafted over me, and I couldn't hear the sea.
I shifted slightly. A heavy arm slid over my hip, pulling me into a hard, muscular chest. It was then I realized I had no clothes on, and whoever shared this bed was naked, too.
"You're awake," rasped a familiar voice.
Ronan brought me back here after our…hook-up? Fling? One-sauna-stand? Was there even a name for what we did?
A burst of heat flared deep in my core, not helped by the fact he was hard as steel behind me. God help me, I didn't know if once was enough. I wanted more.
"How long have I been asleep?" If it was now dark, more than an hour at least. And if I wasn't in my bedroom, someone might go looking for me.
"A couple of hours. How are you?"
I cataloged my aches and pains and realized that actually, I felt OK. Still sore, but not as achy as before. The heat therapy (if one could call sex in a sauna 'heat therapy') definitely helped. Not that I'd admit it. Ronan's head was big enough already.
"Not too bad. I'll live." I tried to pull away, but he held me too tightly. His mouth nuzzled my neck while his cock nudged my ass. If I lifted my thigh, it would take very little effort for him to enter me.
Then I pictured Saoirse's horrified expression if she found out I'd fucked her brother. I needed to be strong. One of us had to be, as Ronan clearly had zero willpower.
"We can't do this again," I protested, but the more I pulled away, the tighter he held me.
His fingers dipped between my thighs. A groan vibrated against my neck when he realized how wet I was.
"Fuck, Pixie, open your legs. Let me in."
"No." My refusal sounded half-hearted at best. A light touch on my clit, a tweak of my nipple, and my resolve shattered. He yanked up my trembling thigh and pushed inside me.
"You're so hot and tight around me. So perfect."
My belly jiggled as he pounded into me from behind, but I shoved the hyper-critical inner voice in my head down.
Ronan wanted me. He thought I was beautiful.
"Come for me, Pixie," Ronan urged, circling my clit with his fingers. My body tensed as I hovered on the precipice, strung tighter than a bow, and then I fell apart. Ronan thrust hard a few more times before groaning as he came, too.
As the aftershocks faded and Ronan slid out, leaving an unholy mess between my thighs, I wondered how I'd survive if Ronan did his usual thing and lost interest now he'd had me.
He murmured something incoherent against the back of my neck as his brawny arm held me tight. It sounded a lot like "you're mine, Pixie," but my eyes fluttered closed again before I could unpick what that meant.
Just as I drifted back into sleep, Ronan's bedroom door flew open and Conal burst in, silhouetted in the doorway.
"Ro! Verity's missing! Have you seen—" Then Conal saw me, lying in his twin's bed, and his expression morphed from panic to fury in a heartbeat.