Chapter Twenty-Four
CIARA
I wipe my hands on the dish towel and glance around the kitchen, surveying the mess I’ve made.
Flour dusts the countertop, and the scent of rich, simmering beef and Guinness fills the air as the pies cook in the oven, their crusts slowly turning the perfect shade of golden brown.
I have to admit that cooking dinner for Ronan Sullivan is a new low, even for me.
I can almost hear my father's voice in my head, telling me I'm betraying everything I believe in. But after my talk with Mila, her words still echo loud and clear in my mind.
If you put half as much energy into getting to know him as you do into hating him, maybe you’ll learn something you don’t expect.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe fighting Ronan tooth and nail isn’t the smartest plan anymore, especially when I can still feel the evidence of him every time I walk.
God, the way he touched me last night still lingers on my skin like a brand, and I’m too damn blinded by the pleasure he brought me to be mad.
If anything, I crave more, and from the look in Ronan’s eyes as he took in the sight of me covered in him, he feels the same.
While my vendetta against the Sullivans still stands, perhaps I could use this newfound lust as a way of getting what I want out of Ronan…
I barely have time to clean up before the front door slams shut and heavy footsteps cross the foyer.
My stomach twists, partly from nerves and anticipation, considering I’m about to find out if Ronan caught me snooping in his office.
When he appears in the doorway, he freezes when he sees the table set for two, a single candle lit in the center, as well as a fresh bouquet of flowers I cut from the garden.
His dark eyes narrow as he looks from the table to me, eyeing the flour-covered apron I’m wearing over my baby-blue dress.
"What’s all this?" His voice comes out low and gravelly.
I shrug, trying not to look like my heart's about to beat out of my chest as I eye his powerful body. But that’s not easy when I can still feel the phantom weight of him pressed against me.
"Something Mila said earlier stuck with me."
“And what was that?”
“That we’re married, and that fighting with you is pointless.”
“Is that so?”
I scowl as I catch his lips twitching. “What I’m trying to say is that maybe if we actually try to get along, life won’t be so unbearable."
He stares at me for a long moment, as if he’s trying to figure out if this is some elaborate trap. Then his lips slowly pull up into a smirk, and I catch a wicked glint in his eyes.
"I can think of a few times we've gotten along just fine." He lets his gaze roam over my body.
I roll my eyes, but my cheeks burn under the weight of his stare.
"Sex doesn’t equal a relationship." I wipe my hands over my apron.
He chuckles under his breath, the sound causing goosebumps to break out over my skin as he crosses to the table and takes a seat. "Fine, let’s try this your way.”
For a moment, it’s awkward as I busy myself plating up the food while Ronan opens the bottle of red wine that I found and pours us each a glass.
When I set his food down in front of him and take a seat, silence hangs heavy in the air, but I clear my throat and decide to be the one to extend a hand first.
"What was it like, growing up with all your brothers?"
He leans back in his chair as he watches me with such intensity that not just my cheeks burn but my entire body.
"Loud. But it was good most of the time.”
“Not all of the time?” I push a few carrots around my plate.
“Being the oldest, I lived to a different set of expectations, which always made me feel separated. And now that my father’s gone… Well, let’s just say my brothers and I are not as close as we used to be.”
I nod, understanding what he’s going through far too well. "I love my brother, but we clash all the time. He’s all I have left, though."
I look up and blink when Ronan’s expression softens, offering a rare glimpse behind the hard mask he always wears.
"If there’s one thing I get, it’s losing people."
A strange, heavy silence falls between us at his words, and for the first time, I don’t see Ronan the monster.
Instead, I see a son who just buried his father. The urge to reach across the table and touch his hand nearly overwhelms me, so I clench my hands in my lap instead.
He clears his throat before reaching for his wine and taking a long sip.
"What about you? What do you want out of life, Ciara? Really."
I blink again, startled by the genuine curiosity in his voice.
"I want a family." I keep my gaze on my plate as my cheeks heat. “A couple of kids, maybe a few dogs… And I want to travel. I’ve never even been to Vegas. Can you believe that?"
Ronan laughs. A low, rich sound that makes my stomach flip.
"Maybe I'll take you someday."
I smile at him before I can stop myself. "And you?"
I dare to meet his eyes as I stab a roasted carrot with my fork.
"I want kids, too. A family of my own."
It’s stupid how much those words warm my heart.
I should hate him, but right now, I just see someone who might want the same things I do.
"You’d be a good dad," I blurt out, and Ronan’s eyes darken, something flickering in them that I can’t quite name.
He reaches across the table and wraps his fingers around my wrist, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin.
My breath hitches at the feeling of his calloused thumb against my skin, which is already warming even from such a small touch.
"Come here," he says under his breath. "I can think of another way we could get closer.”
I try to pull my hand away, but he holds it firm.
"W-we’re eating."
Ronan’s lips twitch. "I have another meal in mind."
Heat pulses between my thighs at the look in his eyes, and I hate how quickly my body betrays me.
But one dark look from Ronan, and I’m ready to forget every reason I ever had to hate him.
"You’re insufferable."
He leans forward, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "And you’re dying to let me fuck you again. It’s written all over your face, Tine Bhaeg."
"You’re imagining things." But my voice is more breathy than strong, which only makes Ronan chuckle.
Bastard.
Without dropping his hold on my wrist, he stands and stalks around the table to me before lifting me out of my chair.
I stumble against him, my hands pressing to his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady under my palms.
“What are you doing?”
"I want to taste you," he murmurs against my ear. "I want to feel you clench around my cock as you come.”
God help me, my knees almost buckle.
I sink my fingers into his shirt, if only to keep me upright as Ronan moves his free hand to my throat, squeezing gently as his lips brush against my ear.
“Is that what you want, Ciara?”
I whimper at the sound of my name on his lips, and Ronan squeezes my throat harder as he takes my earlobe between his teeth and gently sucks on the sensitive skin.
“Yes.” I arch into him until my breasts brush against his chest.
“I thought so.” He chuckles before finally releasing his hold on my wrist and moving to wrap his arm around my waist to haul me closer against him.
I barely have a chance to register the feeling of his hard cock brushing against me before his lips are on mine. I resist for maybe half a second before melting into him, parting my lips to give him access to my mouth.
The moment Ronan’s tongue brushes against mine, his restraint seems to snap.
He moves one hand to cup the back of my neck and the other to my ass, gripping it hard enough that I gasp.
"You wore a dress," he growls against my lips as he slides his hand under the hem to cup my pussy over my panties. “Are you trying to test me, wife?”
“No,” I whimper as he moves his palm over my aching clit.
“Don’t fucking lie.” He sinks his fingers into my hair and pulls hard.
I gasp as he draws my neck back so that I have no choice but to look into his dark eyes.
“Did someone enjoy themselves last night?”
“No.”
“I’d watch that mouth of yours, Tine Bhaeg, otherwise I might not play nicely.”
“You never play nicely.”
“I seem to remember you coming twice last night.” He massages his hand harder over my clit.
My hips move of their own accord, grinding against his hand as the ache between my thighs becomes almost unbearable.
“That’s what I thought. So, I suggest you do as you’re told, otherwise I might not be so selfless again.”
I swallow my words as Ronan moves his hands to my ass and lifts me as if I weigh nothing before carrying me to the island.
“Lie back.”
I do as he commands, my body trembling with need as he hitches the skirt of my dress up around my waist to expose my lace panties.
“Did you choose these for me?” He dips a finger into the waistband.
Once again, I say nothing, if only because the feeling of his warm breath over my pussy has my eyes rolling.
I swear, one lick of his tongue will have me crying out with release, and it seems the bastard knows it.
Without warning, he lands a sharp slap to my inner thigh, and I hiss. But the sting of pain only sends another rush of heat straight to my core, and my arousal starts to drip down my thighs.
“I asked you a question.”
“N-No.”
“No?”
His finger grazes my clit over my panties, and I cry out, arching my back off the counter as a rush of pleasure surges through my body.
“It was the first pair I picked,” I choke out.
“Hmm…”
I brace myself for another spank, but instead, he pulls my panties aside and dives between my thighs with a filthy groan as he licks along my pussy.
“Oh, god, yes!” I cry out as Ronan devours me like a starving animal.
He licks and sucks my clit until I’m trembling, my fingers fisting his hair to hold him steady against my pussy as I grind against his face.
My climax starts to build. "Ronan, please."
He pulls back, his dark eyes blazing as he digs his fingers into my ass. "Do you want to come, princess?"
“Yes.” I arch my hips, so desperate for his touch.
"Mmm… I suggest you beg for it."
I glare at him, and he chuckles darkly.
"Still so fucking defiant."