Chapter 13 Aran #2
She’s on her side, facing my side of the bed, under the covers to her chin. Her hair is spread over my pillow. Her eyes are open.
Of course they are.
“You’re not asleep,” I say.
“Can’t.” Her gaze rakes over me, desire darkening her expression. She bites her bottom lip and looks away.
Trying not to smile, I say, “You can look, you know. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
“Ah,” she half-gasps-half-mutters. “I’m not looking at you.”
“You were, and you liked it.”
“You are covered in tattoos.”
“And?”
“It’s not sexy.” Her gaze slides back to me and lingers on the ink covering my chest.
“No?”
Her eyes dart to mine. “No.”
I walk towards her, the bulge under the towel simply from her stare is painfully obvious. She tries not to look. I admire the effort it takes her, but she eventually slides her gaze over it.
“I don’t find you attractive,” she says.
“Who said you had to?”
“No one,” she says defiantly.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” I say and drop the towel.
Her eyes drop to my cock, which is pretty impressive even when it’s not jutting out, practically begging for her mouth wrapped around it.
“Holy shit,” she mutters. “You walk around with that thing?”
I snort. “Part of the deal. I find you have this effect on me.”
“You’re not allowed to. I’m your hostage.” She still hasn’t looked up.
So, I give her something to really look at. I grip it in my fist and pump gently.
“Jesus,” she mumbles. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t take your eyes off me, so I’m giving you something to really look at,” I murmur, my tone low, dark and clearly having an effect on her.
She licks her lips. My cock jerks in my hand.
Fuck.
The room goes tight and hot. She’s staring at me like she hates me for making her do it and hates herself a bit more for not looking away.
“Aoife. Do you want me?”
“No,” she says weakly.
“All you have to do is ask.”
“Never,” she whispers and then her eyes shoot to mine, full of fire. “Is this what you do? Save women and then seduce them? Is this your ‘move’?”
“Move?”
“Show them your massive cock and hope they’ll jump on it.”
“Massive?” I look down. “Have you never had one this big before?”
“Shut up,” she mumbles.
“I’ll take that as a no. And to answer your question, no, it isn’t a move. You are the first woman I’ve had in my bed since I moved in here.”
“Liar.” It’s barely a breath.
“I don’t lie.”
“So why me?”
“Because since I grabbed you and threw you into my trunk, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. And it’s not because you are here in my house, in my life, bringing criminals to my door and making me fix doors and move spiders outside.”
I let go of my cock and see the disappointment flash in her eyes. It’s all the confirmation I needed to know that she is thinking about me in the exact same way right now. I lean down, one hand on the bedside cabinet, one hand on the bed.
“Aran.”
“What do you want, Aoife?”
Her eyes fix on mine, her breath is shallow. She shifts her body toward me. “I don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Sleep with criminals who abducted me.”
“Saved you,” I remind her, my tone still low.
“Still don’t do this.” But her hand contradicts her words as she reaches out and wraps her small fist around me.
A soft groan escapes me, and she tightens her hand, tugging on me, her gaze never leaving mine. My cock responds to her like it hasn’t been touched in years. It’s not far from the truth. “Fuck, Aoife.”
“Aran,” she breathes.
“Stop saying my name, sweetheart, you’re going to make me come.”
She strokes me like she wants to test whether I mean it.
I catch her wrist.
Not hard. Just enough.
Her eyes flash.
“If I let you keep doing that, I’m going to fuck you into this mattress,” I say.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Is it what you want?”
The question sits between us. I watch the lie pass over her face as she licks her lips again. “I don’t do this,” she says again.
“Then let me go.”
She doesn’t. She tightens her grip. “First time for everything,” she says quietly.
I stare at her hand on my cock and nearly lose my fucking mind.
“Dangerous answer,” I say.
“I’m starting to notice a theme with you.”
I drag my gaze back to her face. Green eyes wide, defiant, nervous, wanting. She’s scared of a lot of things right now. Me included. But not this. Not enough to stop.
That matters.
I take her wrist and ease her hand away, slow enough that she can stop me if she wants. She lets me. Her breath catches, and I feel the smallest twist of disappointment in the way her fingers uncurl.
She moves her body, angling it with mine, still leaning over her. She grabs the back of my neck and kisses me with all the pent-up temper she’s had since I dragged her out of that hotel.
I take it for half a second, and then I take over.
My hand slides into her hair, fisting at the nape, and I kiss her back hard enough to make it clear this is not some soft, confused little mistake we’ll laugh off in the morning. She makes a sound in my mouth that goes straight to my cock. Hot. Sharp. Wanting.
Fuck.
My hands clamp around her waist, and I lift her off the bed.
She wraps her legs around me, my tee riding up so her pussy is pressed, hot and wet against me.
Turning, I take two steps and brace her against the wall.
She gasps, her hand going back to my cock, fisting it tightly and jerking me off with an increased speed than before.
“Jesus, Aoife,” I murmur against her lips. “If you want to stop—”
“I don’t,” she pants. “I want you to fuck me with this. I want you to split me open and fuck me until I forget my own name. My own life.”
I hesitate, wanting to question that. Is she doing this just to forget what happened today?
“Aoife—”
“Don’t,” she murmurs, flicking her tongue out and licking my lips. “Don’t stop. I want you.”
With a low growl, my hand drops between us, my fingers sliding over her clit, and she bucks against my hand with a broken little sound that nearly makes me blow my load.
I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her hair is a mess in my fist. My shirt is bunched up around her hips.
Her green eyes are dark and locked on me, breath coming fast. I kiss her again, hard, swallowing the noise she makes as I work her clit until her grip on my cock turns shaky and weak, and then drops away.
I release her hair and grip her wrist, pinning it to the wall.
I pinch her clit and twist it roughly. She cries out, making a sound that makes my cock throb so hard I have to breathe through it.
She comes apart against the wall with her wrist pinned and her hips rolling into my hand, shaking hard, her forehead dropping to my shoulder. I feel every pulse of it through my fingers. Her breath is ragged and broken, and she makes small, wrecked sounds into my skin that I want to keep.
Her cunt soaks my fingers, and I thrust deep as she clamps down around me.
“Aran,” she cries as I twist my fingers and pump them in and out. “Please.”
“What do you want, Aoife,” I murmur.
“Your cock,” she pants. “Give me your cock.”
I slide my fingers out and grip my cock, rubbing the tip over her clit as she trembles through the aftershocks of her orgasm. She whimpers my name, and I push inside her.
Slow. Controlled. Every fucking inch deliberate.
She takes me in gasps, her nails clawing into my neck, her head dropping back against the wall. Her cunt stretches around me, and the sounds she makes are filthy, perfect and mine.
“Eyes on me,” I say.
Her eyes come back to mine. Dark. Blown wide. Wet at the edges.
I push the rest of the way in and hold there, letting her feel all of it.
“Jesus, Aran,” she gasps.
“Good?” I ask with a slow smile.
“Fucking good. God!” Her head falls back against the wall, exposing her neck to me.
I move. Slow at first, pulling back and driving forward, keeping her pinned between me and the wall with her legs locked around my waist and her hands gripping my neck.
She’s tight, hot and perfect, and every stroke pulls a sound out of her that I feel in my spine.
“Harder,” she says against my mouth.
I grind into her, splitting her open, and she cries out, her nails breaking the skin on the back of my neck.
I drive into her harder. Faster. The wall takes the impact. She takes everything else.
Her cunt clenches around me, and I groan into her neck, biting down on the soft skin there because I need somewhere to put it, the intensity of her, the heat and the tight grip of her, the way she says my name like it’s the only word she has left.
I slam into her relentlessly, pinning her to the wall with each brutal thrust until her legs tremble uncontrollably around my waist. Her moans dissolve into desperate, animal sounds.
Raw, primal begging that makes my cock throb inside her.
She’s reduced to sweat-slicked skin and filthy whimpers, her nails drawing blood.
When she comes again, her cunt grips me like a vise, pulsing and squeezing so violently around my cock that the edges of my vision blur and darken with savage pleasure.
“Fuck,” I grit out, pressing my forehead to the wall beside her head, driving in deep and holding there as I come, my whole body locked, jaw clenched, breathing through it in slow controlled pulls that do absolutely nothing to disguise the fact that she has just wrecked me completely.