Chapter 24
EXPLICIT DETAIL
brIAR
Then…
“My turn,” Rí says.
The dark excitement in his eyes gives me pause, and I’m suddenly regretting the game, underestimating the power I’ve given him.
He stares down at me. The heat from his kiss still stings my lips, I’m breathless, my heart fluttering. The first time he leaned down to kiss me, I panicked, turning away before instantly regretting it.
I wanted him to kiss me again…
“Truth or dare, little Rose?” Rí’s Irish accent curls around each word and something deep inside of me twists at the sound.
“Truth,” I say, the corner of my mouth ticking up when his eyes darken. The dark shadows at the edges of his irises overtake the green.
Two can play at that game, sir.
“Okay, Rose,” he says, stepping closer, and I swallow hard as he begins to circle me. “Truth, ay?”
I nod, and it feels shaky.
“Alright.” He’s still circling me. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
I gulp, my eyes widening and watching the smile curve up his face. “I—I don’t…”
“Say it.” He stops behind me and I hear his voice in my ear, the edge of dominance unmistakable. “Don’t hold back. I want to know exactly what you want.”
You dug this grave, Rose. This was your idea.
“The truth, Rose, and don’t you dare lie. I promise you, I can tell.”
I believe him. The way this man stares at me, I think if so much as my pinky finger twitched, he would catch it.
“I want you.” I swallow, refusing to look at him. Rough fingers curl around my chin, dragging my gaze up to his.
“You want me to what?” His voice is soft, his eyes staring intently into mine, not a trace of teasing in them. “Explicit detail, Rose,” he reminds me.
“I want you… to make me come,” I say, closing my eyes in horrified disbelief when I realize I’ve actually said the words out loud.
He’s silent and I feel my cheeks burn red with embarrassment.
“It’s my turn,” he says, and I release a breath before I pass out from holding it in. “I pick dare,” he says, without letting me ask the question. “Let’s make it a dare.”
He can’t be serious.
Rí leans in, kissing me again… the scent of him… the feel of his hands, all of it invading my senses, making it impossible to think, impossible to resist.
Without warning, he picks me up. My legs wrap around him in fear, clinging tight in case he drops me. But his grip on me is firm, his lips trailing down my neck as he brings me back over to his bike, swinging his leg over it and settling me down on his lap.
He wastes no time, his fingers trailing up the length of my inner thigh. I shudder. He pushes past my panties, and the corner of his mouth ticks up at the wetness he finds there.
I expect him to shove his fingers inside, pump them in and out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just takes his thumb, pressing down lightly, slow circles edging along my sensitive clit. I inhale sharply, biting down hard on my lip to hold in a moan of pleasure when he increases his pace.
He smiles, well aware of what he’s doing.
“Dare me to make you come how, little Rose?”
“Wh—What do you mean?” I ask, confused, tilting my head to the side.
“What’s the challenge?” he asks. When I just stare at him, not sure what to say, he holds up his fingers, and ticks them off, one-by-one.
“Do you want me to make you come using only my fingers?” And then the second. “Or only my mouth?” I swallow and he smirks. His third finger falls as he says, “Or am I to make you come without touching you?”
Without even touching me? My brain struggles to wrap my head around that one when I notice he’s stopped talking—taking note of my obvious confusion.
"Make. You. Come..." His accent rolls over my words, enunciating each syllable as he repeats them, really hearing them this time.
I squirm uncomfortably hearing it back—at how embarrassing I must sound.
His head tilts to the side and I feel him assessing me. My cheeks must be a bright shade of crimson by now.
“Little Rose, has no one ever made you come?” His words are soft in a way I hadn’t thought him capable, his fingers finding my chin and forcing my gaze back to his.
Way to let him know you’re terrible at sex, Briar.
“It’s my fault, I think I’m just broken or something…”
His fingers snap my head up so fast I swear I get whiplash.
“You’re not broken,” he growls under his breath and he looks… angry.
“I am,” I insist, softly, searching his eyes as they stare down at me, trying to read them.
“Lay back.”
My eyes widen. “What? Why?” Alarm fills my tone.
“It’s still my turn, and I chose dare. Now do as you’re fucking told and lay back.”
His eyes are on mine, and his stare is… intense. It feels as though he can see right through me and into my soul.
I look around. For a very public space, we are quite alone. When my eyes find Rí’s again, there’s a near feral gleam in his eyes, though he waits patiently for my decision.
Swallowing hard, I lean back slowly; his hands stay on my hips, holding me steady as I arch my back over the bike’s fuel tank, hating what his nod of approval does to my core.
“Hands on the handlebars,” he orders and I comply, closing my fists tight around the rubber grips to keep from sliding off. I also tighten the grip my legs have around Rí’s middle, crossing and locking my ankles together, and he smirks knowingly.
The position is… precarious and with my legs spread and open to him, I feel exposed—vulnerable.
Rí has both feet planted on the ground, keeping the bike upright and steady.
He runs both hands up my thighs, looking me over as if he’s trying to memorize every inch.
“Truth or dare, little Rose?” he asks, his fingers reaching the hemline of my skirt, sliding it higher than it already sits.
My grip tightens on the handlebars, and I bite my lip to keep in the whimper that threatens to escape me at his touch. He’s gently tracing my skin, teasing, traveling higher, but it’s sending jolts of electricity from each point of contact, and they ricochet through me like bolts of lightning.
“Dare,” I reply, because I know that’s what he wants me to say and admittedly, I’m curious as to what it will be. I’m rewarded with another devastatingly beautiful smile.
“I dare you not to scream when you come on my fingers in the next five minutes.”
I can’t help but gape at him. Five minutes? My entire adult life, and he thinks he can change that in five fucking minutes?
Rí’s fingers finally skim the edge of my underwear and I tremble. He takes the fabric between his two large hands and, without warning, violently tears through it and… oh, fuck.
Yep, there is definitely something broken in me because why did that make my stomach flip in ways I want to feel again?
The breeze picks up and the brush of cool air reminds me that I’m bare, stretched out, legs spread wide and wrapped around him. With no way to close them.
I expect him to touch me, but instead he leans forward and something hard presses into my most sensitive area. My breath hitches as he leans over me, his hand closing around mine, tightening the grip I hadn’t realized I’d let go slack.
With his hand still covering mine, he twists, revving the bike under us and oh, lord—
My nerves are already alight, and the vibrations set off by the engine tease an already insatiable ache, stirring up a heat, a need I can’t ignore.
Rí chuckles darkly, all too aware of what he’s done. He keeps one hand on mine and the throttle, while reaching down with the other, running his fingers down my slit. I blush when we both realize how wet I already am for him.
His fingers pull away and my hips chase after them, starving for more of his touch, watching him bring his fingers to his mouth.
Tasting them.
Tasting me.
Smirking, he brings them back down, drawing small, lazy circles around the most sensitive part of me, all while throttling the bike, the vibration stoking the spark he’s lit, fanning the heat—the flames as they slowly build into something all-consuming.
He increases his pace slowly and increases the pressure, all while staring deeply into my eyes, not looking at what his hands are doing, but rather looking right at me.
I bite my lip, holding in a whimper, and watch his eyes drop.
His thumb keeps up the relentless circles, while he slips a finger inside of me.
I can’t hold in my whimper this time—it’s followed closely by a moan when he moves his finger back and forth.
Slowly pumping, vibrating with the pulsing of the engine beneath me.
I tighten my grip on the handlebars, my body filling with tension. His persistent circles, the teasing, the look in his eyes… all of it pushing me further to the edge.
I arch my back as the deep ache inside of me becomes intolerable, tensing, gritting my teeth as I tamp down my scream.
Rí increases the pressure one last time and I can’t—it’s too much, my body shakes, and I cling on to the handles with white knuckles.
It feels like I’m climbing higher and higher, and oh, fuck, when I crest that ledge…
A scream bursts out in ragged, strangled gasps as I fight to hold it in, rough and raw, as I come all over his fingers.
But Rí doesn’t stop, and I whimper as he drags it out.
“Please, please,” I beg him because it’s too much—I can’t breathe—I can’t think; I’m completely at his mercy.
“You do look pretty when you come.” He smiles. “Truth or dare, little Rose?”
“I think it’s your turn…” I mumble, breathless.