Chapter 11 #2
“You ready, Róisín?” He stared into my eyes, and I felt like he could see every thought racing across my mind.
Most of the thoughts being “oh my fucking god.” I nodded meekly, so out of my comfort zone at how sensual this was, and being with a man like Ronan who was so utterly in charge.
He finally smiled, but instead of breaking the tension it just added to it, seeming to promise something.
I knew exactly what that something was as he pulled me even closer to him, placing my legs over his shoulders as his hand brushed across my clit.
I shuddered at the teasing sensation, and he continued to lower himself, until his hot breath across my opening joined the barely-there sensation of his hand.
I squirmed and gasped, and embarrassingly enough, think I uttered a few “please” and “oh gods,” and a few shouted “Ronan’s,” when his hands were replaced by the feeling of his tongue firmly circling my clit.
I definitely shouted out this time, as his hands pinned my bucking hips in place.
He whipped me into a fucking inferno, and I felt like I was on the verge of combusting when he thrust a finger inside me, while his tongue almost vibrated against my clit.
I screamed at the tightness and exquisite sensation of him moving in and out of me.
When he added a second finger, I felt goosebumps race from my neck down my back and tingle to my toes, as wave after wave of release hit me.
Causing me to move my hips in tandem with each wave on a choked cry.
I felt my whole-body quiver as it started to come to an end, and Ronan finally moved from his position between my legs to come nose to nose with me.
The embarrassment of completely losing it on his kitchen counter made me start to feel awkward.
I’d had orgasms before, obviously, but never like that.
It felt like he’d set sparklers off all over my body, and I hadn’t expected to put on such a loud, vocal performance.
I avoided his eyes as he leaned over me, with my chest still heaving from the aftermath of having died, gone to heaven, and back again.
“Róisín,” he pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and moved my face to gaze to his. “You good?” He asked with a serious expression, like he was worried or something.
I cleared my throat. “Ya... I um... didn’t mean to make so much noise...” I finished awkwardly, trying to look away again. But he kept me in his grip as his face broke into a breathtaking smile.
“Well, I was hoping you’d be making even more noise,” he replied cockily.
I felt his very large, hard dick pressing against my leg, and that spark of electricity caught again, causing me to squirm against him.
He stiffened slightly at my movements, and pressed his hard on a little closer to me.
“But as much as I want to watch you do that all night long,” he ran his nose up my throat as he spoke, his hands gently pinned my wrists on either side of my head, “the sauce is burning,” he murmured into my mouth.
I felt his lips quirk into a shit-eating grin as he pushed off me and moved to the stove top, where I had somehow missed the pop and sizzle coming from the pot.
I regained my composure as I hopped down to the floor and shimmed my clothes on, with one eye on his very large erection clearly visible through his grey tracksuit.
“Now that you’ve worked up an appetite, are you ready to eat?” he asked with a cocky grin as I rolled my eyes.
I slurped the last of my spaghetti off my fork, vaguely aware of the mess I had made scarfing down the meal. Ronan was an incredible cook and the vongole dish was amazing.
“You liked it?” Ronan smiled, as he passed me the kitchen roll to clean up the mess I’d made.
“You weren’t lying, you really can cook,” I smiled back. “The seafood was so tasty; I’ve never had mussels before.”
“Well, I’m honoured to be on any first list belonging to you, Róisín,” he smiled softly as he stood to take our plates.
“No, let me. You’ve done all the cooking, so I’ll tidy up,” I said firmly, taking the plates from his hands and marching to the sink.
“Don’t worry about tidying up yet; we aren’t even done. Are you ready for dessert?” he asked from behind me, while I filled the sink with water.
“God, I don’t know. I’m fit to burst. Did you make something?” I asked, my arms elbow-deep in the sink.
I gasped as his forearm curled around my stomach, and his other hand caught my hip to spin me into his chest. I gaped up at him, with my sudsy hands soaking into his t-shirt.
“That’s not the kind of dessert I mean, Róisín,” he stage-whispered, as he leaned down to eye level, giving me an obvious smirk.
I was conscious of my carb-bloated belly and tomato-stained teeth - but I could feel Ronan’s hard-on again.
And the glint in his eyes as he looked at me made electricity tingle through me again.
“Oh,” I followed his lead with the theatrics, “You can’t mean.
..” I trailed my eyes down to the very evident, very large bulge in his tracksuit before meeting his gaze again with mock astonishment.
He laughed as he pulled my face to his and leaned in for a kiss again, using his hips to pin me up against the kitchen counter, and letting me feel exactly how serious he was against my stomach.
The kiss turned heated and frenzied within seconds, and all thoughts of bloating and stains flew straight out of my mind as I grasped his t-shirt and pulled him closer.
He curled his hands around my thighs again and picked me up like I weighed nothing, my legs curled around his waist and his erection was digging perfectly against me.
I started grinding against him while he walked toward the stairs, and he let out a choked moan.
It made me feel so powerful to coax those noises out of this sculpted embodiment of perfection.
He somehow walked up the stairs without breaking both our necks, and managed to keep his lips firmly welded to mine.
When I heard him kick a door closed, I still didn’t look around to gawk at his bedroom, too zeroed on just how much harder and bigger his erection had gotten in the two minutes from kissing in the kitchen, to now.
He laid me on the bed, immediately pinning me with his hips and thrusting my arms over my head with his hands, as his mouth moved to my neck.
I kept grinding my hips against his delicious friction and squirmed when it elicited another agonised groan from him.
“Fuck, Róisín,” he hissed through his teeth, nipping my ear a little harder than before, as he struggled to restrain himself.
I’d never seen Ronan anything but calm, suave, and utterly unflappable - even when he had me spread out in his kitchen just an hour ago, he’d been the epitome of control.
Seeing him struggle to hold it now was intoxicating.
“Yes, Ronan,” I purred innocently as I bucked up against him again. He growled something unintelligible in response, before his hand dropped to the buttons on my jeans. I stiffened in anticipation. His eyes flew up to mine to check my response, and I gasped and pushed against him in encouragement.
“What is it, Ronan? I thought you said we were having dessert,” his eyes flashed with humour before he ripped my pants open and shoved his hand inside my lacy knickers, knocking the smile off my face as I gasped when his knuckles grazed me.
“Well, it looks more like a feast, Róisín,” he murmured with a smirk, watching me intently. I leaned up to try and kiss him, and hide some of the desperation for his touch from showing on my face. But he pulled back slightly, drinking me in.
“I like the view just fine from here,” he said wickedly.
Before I could respond, he thrust a finger inside me with his thumb pressing straight down on my clit, there was no slow teasing this time. It was like he was racing to see how quickly he could bring me apart. I bucked underneath him while his other hand still pinned my arms over my head.
“Fuck,” I moaned as he started to move his hand deep and hard.
“You’re ready for me already, Róisín,” he scraped his light stubble along my cheek and down my jaw, leaving the most amazing tingle in its wake.
My lips buzzed along with the rest of my body, even my eyelids felt like they were on fire.
Just when I was on the brink, he pulled back and released my wrists to drag my pants off.
I pulled my top and bra off as quickly as I could, before reaching for his tight black t-shirt and pulling it up his sculpted abs and over his head.
He pushed his tracksuit and boxers down, releasing his hard thick dick, and it bounced free.
I felt my throat tighten in anticipation at the sight, and he leaned over me and pinned me with one hand again, while using his other to guide into me.
I groaned at his thickness as he gave one hard thrust and buried himself to the hilt, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
He’d been edging me so close already, just the feel of him inside me almost finished me off.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, Róisín,” he grunted. “And this greedy little pussy is so wet for me. Scream for me again like a good girl,” his green eyes bored into mine.
The arrogant tone of his voice made me want to prove him wrong.
But seeing the defiance on my face, he smirked as he started to move, and I felt myself lose control.
He slammed into me hard, one hand pinning my arms above my head, the other holding me in place just below my throat.
Arching against him as I bucked to his punishing rhythm, the tingles spread all over me until my face felt numb, and I started to clench around him as I cried out.
“Fuck. Oh God. Ronan, don’t stop, don’t stop,” my toes curled so hard they hurt, as the waves crashed over me and I heard him hiss out through clenched teeth.
“That’s it, Róisín. Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you clench around my dick,” he groaned as I started to slowly relax and he began a new harder rhythm, pounding into me until he groaned my name as he came.
We panted, tangled in each other's arms for what felt like minutes before he shifted to the side, pulling me against his hard chest. I could feel the aftermath of the tingles so much my face was still numb, and as he leaned back to look at me his mouth popped open.
Whatever words he was about to say dying on his lips.
I panicked at his reaction, envisioning tomato sauce smeared all over my face from dinner, when he suddenly croaked, “Róisín, your face.”
“What? What is it?” I said, but it came out muffled, like I couldn’t get the words through my suddenly stinging lips. I started to pat and wipe my face for whatever he was looking at, when I felt my swollen lips through the numbness, about triple their usual size.
“Are you okay? Does your throat feel tight?” he demanded.
“No, but my face feels a bit numb,” I mumbled past my puffy tongue. He bit his lip like he was holding back a laugh.
“Did you say tonight was the first time you’d tried mussels?”
“Ya, why?” I mumbled again; my voice pitched with panic.
“Well, I think it’s fair to say you’re allergic to them,” and then he snorted a laugh while fishing his phone from his tracksuit pants on the ground. I was on the verge of a complete meltdown when he opened the camera app. My shiny red face, blown up like a puffer fish, stared back at me.