Ciaran #2
Laughter loosens my chest. I’m here trying to make a fucking life for myself, and Adeline is worried people will judge her for hanging around a poor lad from Dublin. I should be furious, but it’s so shallow that a scraping of something akin to pity rears its head in my chest.
“Are you that afraid of people knowing you’re not perfect?”
The muscles in her neck tense, her face glitching. I smooth my thumb from her temple to her cheek, my fingers pinching under her chin.
“Because deep down you know you aren’t,” I tell her. “You’re better off admitting it rather than pretending otherwise.”
She leans closer, and I smile at the way she’s trying to bait me. “Says the man pretending to be a hero.”
“I know I’m not a hero.” I place a hand on my heart. “But I know what I’m after in life.”
“So do I,” she whispers.
My little perfectionist is a liar, but it’s fun to see this side of her. It’s even better knowing just a few minutes ago her father told me she’d grow tired of me. That she’d throw me to the side.
“You want to change the terms of our agreement?” I ask, making myself sound agreeable. “You want the world’s most perfect boyfriend.”
Shit, I’d been honest the night of Jack’s attack. I’m not interested in sticking around forever in America, but the O'Connells appreciate a well woven plan. And those take time.
“I’ll be your perfect boyfriend,” I agree. “But you’re going to be my perfect girlfriend.”
She angles her head, wariness rightly spreading across her face.
“See, because I have certain requirements myself.” My fingers trail down the side of her breasts, mapping the curves.
“Wow,” she deadpans. “A man wanting sex in return for something.”
I expect her to roll her eyes. To scoff. To tell me to fuck off.
Her hand pushes into my chest again, knocking me back. She’s there, pressing into me, her eyes unwavering as she speaks.
“Go on then,” she teases, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Take out your giant cock and fuck me.”
I roll out of her grasp, slamming her into the wall.
She makes a face when her hair crushes but then goes back to the steely blank expression.
She’s like a fucking switch, this woman.
She babbles, she yells, and she argues all the fucking time.
And then there are times when her face falls completely blank, and I swear I’m looking at something I shouldn’t have permission to see.
Does her family not see how fucking hard she buries herself under a busy schedule? She doesn’t give herself time to think.
She’s a dangerous desire because she never backs down. Instead of getting frustrated that I’ve got her pinned against the wall, she spreads her legs. Actually spreads her fucking legs.
Goddamn, if Jack hadn’t gotten her drunk, she might not have needed me that night. Without a doubt this woman can—and will—kill a man.
“You’ve not so humbly acted like you’ve got a big dick,” she says, “so go on and show a girl a good time.”
“Princess, you've got no idea what the fuck you’re doing.”
“Of course not.” Pain glitches over her face, quickly wiped away. I almost ease my grip on her. “I never have any idea what I’m doing. Don’t you know?”
Heat flares in my chest. Her perfume fills my nose, and my nerves are aware of how close we are. But something else is going on in her mind.
“Adeline.” I step back.
Her fingers grab my tie, and she pulls me back. Our lips smash together, and I’m gone.
I bite her bottom lip on instinct. Since the night I first met her, I’ve wanted to cause her pain. She gasps, her muscles jerking in surprise. I grip her tightly to me, sweeping my tongue into her mouth.
I wedge my thigh between hers, forcing her legs open wider. I’ll happily call her bluff.
She lets out a breathy noise. Surprise or confusion. I don’t care. She started this.
“You want to see my cock, princess?” I ask. “Want me to fuck away whatever bad day you’ve had like a good little boyfriend would?”
“I highly doubt you could.” She rolls her eyes even while panting, and the dismissal pisses me off.
My fingers bunch the fabric of her dress, pulling it up. Her leg wraps around my waist, and I can’t remember if she moved it on her own or if I did it.
She pulls me close again. The kiss is messy. It’s pent up rage. A mix of frustration at life and each other.
I’ve never had any problems with a hate fuck, and the fact that her family is somewhere in the building only makes it better.
“Be quiet,” I warn her, not admitting that every time she makes a noise under her breath my cock stirs. It’s painfully straining against my trousers. “Unless the princess likes knowing that people will hear her getting fucked.”
She does that adorable huff, trying to say otherwise.
I laugh in her ear, my fingers crawling over her inner thigh. She jerks when I run my hands over her seam, her underwear soaked.
“Maybe you want them to hear you,” I say. “You want them to come find you getting fucked by your boyfriend. Getting your cunt filled with my cum. Does the princess have a breeding kink?”
She bites the inside of her lip, emotions warring on her face. Her back arches, her chest heaving upward. I trail kisses down the curve of her neck.
I take her hand, forcing her to feel my erection through the fabric of my trousers. “Are you ready for this?”
She blinks wildly and I chuckle again, kissing her lips quickly. Her eyes are glazed, and there’s nothing but the sound of my zipper as she watches me free my cock.
I could watch her face all day. The way she blinks and stares and takes a shuddering breath.
But we decided to hate fuck in a semi-public place, and my cock is desperate. I spread her legs as wide as they’ll go, pulling her leg tight against my body. I try to sheathe my cock into her cunt, wanting to hit her deep.
“Fuck.” I struggle, working my cock a few inches into her. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
She stills in my hold, dazed.
My head drops into the crook of her neck. It takes shallow thrusts, her body struggling to take me.
Slowly I work into her, my head angling down when I spot the blood on my cock.
Everything stops.
“Adeline.” My chest rises and falls.
Her eyes are impossibly wide, her face otherwise blank.
I pull back. “You’re a fucking virgin.”
She’d spread her legs. Had goaded me into this. It was supposed to be a hate fuck.
I’ve just taken Adeline Akatov’s virginity, and her father is one room over.
“Fuck,” I curse.
Her fingers curl around my shoulders, keeping me from pulling away.
It takes monumental effort to stay still. To not hurt her.
“Move,” she demands, in a tiny voice.
“Adeline,” I warn. We’re both shaking, vibrating with need and horror.
“Move.” She pulls me toward her, her cheek on my chest.
But she doesn’t get to hide.
I force her chin up, making her meet my eye.
“Adeline,” I say again. Her chin wobbles. “Princess.”
Her eyes flash at the nickname. “I said, fucking move.”
I thrust into her, her lips parting. I delicately cup her cheek, but my hips move faster and faster, working into her. I watch as the sensation falls over her, her pupils dilating.
“Just like that,” I praise softly when she begins to move her hips on her own. Rolling her hips, leaning into the feeling. “Good girl, princess.”
She bites on her lip but isn’t able to stifle her little whimpers. It’s my pleasure watching Adeline crack. Her back arches, and for a second we’re just a man and woman needing one another instead of two bickering people upset at our respective family members.
“Ciaran,” she breathes.
“I’ll take care of you,” I promise, and I mean it. The world might shit on me because they think I’m nothing, but I can take care of this princess. I can be the perfect boyfriend she thinks she needs.
Her breathing shallows, her head rolling back. My fingers trail down her skin, finding her clit, toying with her. I’m rewarded when her mouth drops open, her chest heaving.
I apply more pressure, my hips slamming into her, and she clenches around me. I’m so fucking thankful because I can’t wait any longer.
Her breath catches, her body stiffening as I come inside her, the first man to ever fill her cunt.