Chapter 21 #2
Tears squeezed out the corners of his eyes. “Just keep your promise,” he whimpered. “Don’t feed my hope.”
I let go of one wrist, and he left his hand flat on the sand. I gripped his chin and forced him to look at me as more tears slid toward his temples. “No.”
I leaned down, and he let out a wounded sound right before my lips brushed his.
They trembled against mine, and I stilled for a moment before pressing closer.
He bucked beneath me, and his hand left the sand to press against my chest. But he didn’t push me away.
Instead, his fingers curled into my chest hair, and he let out the most delicious little moan that sent a shiver down my spine.
I plunged my tongue into his mouth and got my first real taste of Devlin Walsh.
As I lapped at him, he wrapped his arms around my neck and clawed the back of my scalp.
His body arched up into mine as our teeth clacked and our tongues melded.
His heart thundered against my chest, and his tongue swirled like an eager puppy against mine.
I pulled away from the kiss with a nip to his jaw. Devlin lay below me, mouth slack, lips swollen, eyes glazed, and the beast in me roared with possessiveness.
“I’m done telling you that you’re mine.” I cupped his cheek and relished the way he leaned into the touch. “It’s time to show you.”
Devlin
I moved in a daze. Somehow, we made it back to the car. Cian buckled my seatbelt. We drove down the street, and I stared at the buildings passing by without really seeing them. Cian’s taste still lingered as I ran my fingers over my lips, missing the pressure of his mouth.
We pulled into a parking garage and found a spot on the ground level. Cian grabbed a duffel from the back seat and got out while I followed behind, rubbing my wrists where he’d held me in the sand before giving me my first kiss.
We walked through a set of revolving doors, past a hotel front desk, and right into an open elevator.
I felt like I was in a dream. Because no way was any of this happening.
We’d gone from chains, to shock collars, to a bloody ambush, to…
the beach. To watching the sunrise and feeling the cold ocean on my toes. To claiming kisses in the sand.
We exited the elevators and walked down a long hallway. Cian stopped in front of room 724 and stared at the keypad for a moment. He took one deep breath. Then he shoved me against the wall so hard my back hit with a thud. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. Not after that kiss.
He leaned in close. His skin smelled like saltwater and sun. “If you walk into this hotel room with me, that means you’re mine. When I want and how I want. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” His harsh breath tickled my skin. “I won’t be asking. I’ll be taking.”
“When have you ever asked?” I heard myself say.
A muscle in his jaw ticked, almost like he was nervous. Cian didn’t get nervous. “This is me asking before that door locks behind us. If you don’t want this, walk away now.”
Panic fluttered in my chest, and I clutched the front of his shirt. “You’d let me?” The desperation in my voice was impossible to hide.
His eyes dropped to where my fingers twisted in the fabric at his chest before returning to my face. His shoulders dropped a fraction. He slid a hand around my neck.
“No. I wouldn’t let you leave, Devlin. I’d hunt you down and drag you back here by your hair.”
“How many times?” I tugged his shirt tighter. I needed him to blast through every wall I put up. I had to know he’d fight for me despite my own self-sabotage. “How many times would you hunt me down and bring me back?”
He exhaled slowly, and the coiled tension bled from his face. He swayed into me until our foreheads touched. “Every time,” he said. “Over and over again. Until our last breaths.”
Our lips brushed as I whispered, “Open the door.”
He pulled up an electronic key on his phone and tapped it against the keypad.
The door opened, and then we were inside.
I had a moment to take in the suite. Heaps of pillows decorated a large king bed to my right.
To my left was a sitting area with a couch, a few chairs, and a chaise lounge, all facing a large wall-mounted TV.
Sliding glass doors opened to a small private balcony overlooking the ocean, and I found myself standing there, my nose pressed to the cold glass.
Behind me, I heard the bathroom door shut and the shower turn on.
There were more people on the beach now, even though it was barely eight in the morning. I could see two teens digging a massive hole near the tideline. A toddler in a sunhat sprinted across the sand on tiny, impossibly fast legs until her dad caught her and kissed the top of her head.
I hadn’t realized Cian was out of the shower until I heard him call my name. I turned to find him wearing a pair of clean briefs and holding a box. Water droplets clung to his skin, like he hadn’t bothered with a towel.
He held the box out. “Shower and use this.”
I felt the blood drain from my face as I stared at the box. “I’ve never used one before.”
“You want me to do it for you?” he challenged.
“Never mind,” I huffed, then stalked toward him and snatched the douching kit from his hands. “I’ll read the instructions.”
“Smart man,” he said in a patronizing tone that made me want to smack him. “And Dev? Dr. Bev tested us, and everything came back negative. So I’ll be using you bare.”
I entered the bathroom with the echo of his voice in my head and the promise of his cum branding me.
I showered quickly, watching as the water running down the drain turned pink with blood that wasn’t mine.
The kit was easy enough to use, but I had a hard time concentrating because I knew exactly why Cian wanted me clean for him.
I finally emerged from the bathroom in a towel, my cock tenting the front like it had a mind of its own.
Cian stood at the end of the bed, his cock bulging obscenely against the thin fabric of his briefs. Even the outline of his piercing was visible. With his hands on his hips, he jerked his chin at me. “Drop the towel and sit on the bed. Back to the headboard.”
My fingers automatically untied the towel, and I left it where it fell.
His eyes tracked me as I walked to the bed.
My cock felt like a third leg now, and my balls hung full and heavy.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come.
Now that my body wasn’t in constant pain, I could feel how pent up I was.
I climbed onto the mattress and slid back against the pillows. Cian remained standing at the foot of the bed like a sentry. “Lean back and spread your legs.”
My breathing stuttered as I slowly shifted back. I knew what he wanted to see. I bent my knees and planted my feet wide on the bed. When I reached down to fist my cock, his lips curled in a predatory grin.
“No,” he rasped out, and my hand immediately stilled. “Don’t touch your cock.” He pointed to a bottle of lube nestled in the pillows. “Coat your fingers and show me.”
I closed a trembling hand around the bottle. “Show you what?”
“Show me how you tried to satisfy yourself before me.”
A strangled sound left my throat, and my cock jerked against my stomach. At my hesitation, Cian bent at the waist, bracing himself with both fists on the bed. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he narrowed his eyes. “Now, Devlin. Show me.”
I poured the lube over my fingers, making a mess as it dripped over my stomach.
With one hand flat on the bed, I slid the other down my groin and under my balls.
My finger trembled as I pressed it against my hole.
I sucked in a breath at the feel of the cool lube, but it quickly warmed as I moved my fingers over the puckered skin.
I focused on Cian’s eyes and the way he watched my hand with an animalistic hunger.
His clawed fists flexed on the bed, while the lion on his neck roared silently as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow.
I moaned as I finally slid one finger inside, and Cian’s nostrils flared.
I was so turned on that I easily slid another in next to it.
My rim stretched as I pushed them in to the first joint.
Then all the way to the knuckle. B.C.—Before Cian—this was serviceable.
But now, I only felt desolate. Pitiful. Empty. A pained whine clawed up my throat.
Cian’s eyes darted to mine. “It’s not enough, is it? Not even close.”
I scissored my fingers and worked them in and out of my body. With every movement, they felt more and more like cheap imitations. “N-no. Not enough.”
“I know,” he said softly as he dropped his boxer briefs to the floor.
The piercing on the head of his thick, veiny dick glinted in the morning sun streaming through the glass door.
He moved forward with one knee on the bed.
Then another. He prowled across the bed toward me on all fours before settling back on his heels between my legs.
And then he slid two lubed fingers in beside mine.
I whimpered at the burn and tried to pull my fingers out, but he held my hand in place. His fingers curled and brushed my prostate, and my body jerked as pleasure zinged up my spine.
“Better?” he asked.
“B-better,” I rasped.
“But it still isn’t enough. I know it isn’t. This is why you have a death wish—because you’re so empty. Now that I own you, I’m going to fill you so full you can’t even think about leaving.”
I stared into his Irish eyes and rolled my hips. “P-please.”