16. CHAPTER 16 #2
I tensed. “Shut up. You have a sick mind.”
Cillian leaned in and bit my neck. I moaned involuntarily into it. Fuck.
“I… Cillian. I, eh…”
He pulled back, hovering over me. Why the hell do I feel this way about him?
“I want to suck your dick too. Before you fuck me.”
Cillian grinned. “Baby, if you suck my dick now, I’m gonna come.”
There it was again. That stupid feeling only he could pull out of me. He flipped onto his back.
I moved between his legs. Nerves hit hard. He was watching me. Performance anxiety decided this was the ideal moment to remind me I’d never done this before.
“I haven’t actually done this before, but—” I stopped, jaw tight.
“Do what I did to you. Put your mouth on my cock. Use your tongue, squeeze my balls if you want. Honestly, baby, use your teeth. I’ll love whatever the fuck you do to me.”
I rolled my eyes but leaned down before nerves could talk me out of it. Took the head into my mouth. Salty. I liked it. I sucked experimentally, clumsy, trying to take him deeper. Fuck, how does he do this so easily? I gagged. Kept trying anyway.
Cillian groaned, eyes never leaving me. He fisted my hair, holding back, hips twitching like it took everything not to thrust.
“Christ, look at you.”
I took him deeper. Tears welled. He was so big. The thought of him fitting inside me flashed, no. Stop. The praise hit. I sucked harder, tongue clumsy, but it mattered. I wanted this. I just needed to get over myself.
He yanked my hair gently. I looked up.
“You hate it, don’t you?” My cheeks burned.
Cillian laughed once, rough, then dropped his head back for a second before popping up on his elbows.
“Fuck, no. Keep that up and I’m gonna come. But I need to be inside you right now.”
I crawled back up and lay beside him. Cillian settled between my legs, spreading them, inspecting me. I was already getting hard again. Embarrassing. It was fucking frustrating.
He reached for the lube, slicked his fingers, and worked it into me first. I couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out, this time it felt like real preparation. He pushed deeper until I was coated and shining.
“Give me your hand.”
I hesitated, then gave it. He squeezed a generous amount of lube into my palm.
“Put it on my dick.” I coated him, reluctant, squeezing just to be an asshole.
Cillian groaned low. “Mmm, you feel fucking good already, baby.”
“Can we drop those nicknames? I’ve told you I’m not your girlfriend.”
He took my hand away. The thick head dragged over my hole, then pressed.
“No.” His voice dropped. “You keep pretending you’re fine with this. Like you’ve done it a hundred times.”
He pulled my hips closer, spreading me wider, my ass nestled against his cock. One hand fisted in my hair, tipping my head back.
“You’re shaking, prince. So either admit you want it slower… or keep lying and I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for.”
My face burned. I shoved at his chest, but my hips stayed where they were.
“I’m not shaking,” I snapped. “And I’m not asking for anything. Just do it.”
He lined up again, thick, lube-slick head pressed firm against my hole. Then he pushed forward. Slow. Barely the tip. The stretch burned deeper and sharper than two fingers ever had, a thick, relentless pressure that made my breath hitch.
Fuck.
My hips rolled up anyway, taking him deeper.
I grabbed his thighs on instinct, fingers digging in hard as another wave of burning fullness hit me.
He stayed perfectly still, breathing hard over me.
His eyes flicked over my face, reading every flinch.
One hand stroked my thigh, kneading the tight muscle, spreading me wider. The other pressed flat on my stomach.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” I bit out, even as my body tried to push him away while pulling him deeper. “Just move.”
He didn’t. His big hand slid over my stomach, thumb pressing slow, deliberate circles right above where I could feel him splitting me, coaxing my muscles to surrender. “Fuck, look at you,” he breathed, eyes dark. “All flushed and fighting me. So goddamn beautiful when you’re like this.”
I smacked a hand against his chest, hard enough to sting my palm. “Don’t call me that when I’m, fuck, when it’s humiliating.”
Cillian didn’t flinch. His hips flexed just enough to nudge deeper, forcing a broken sound out of my throat. “Humiliating?” A dark chuckle rumbled through him. “No, baby. You’re letting me in. That’s not humiliation. That’s mine.”
I locked my jaw, staring at the shadowed ceiling of the Thorn suite, teeth grinding so hard my skull ached.
The second I softened, even a fraction, he sank the rest of the way in with a filthy groan.
My hole clenched around the thick invasion, fighting and pulling at the same time.
Sweat slid down my spine. My cock leaked helplessly against my stomach, traitor that it was.
“If you keep squeezing my cock like that, prince, I’m gonna fill you up before I even get to ruin you properly,” he rasped.
He saw everything. The discomfort I tried to bury. The panic. The fucked up want underneath it. I hated how easily he read me.
“That’s it… good boy.” His tone changed. “You’re taking me so fucking well. First time and already greedy for it.”
Mortifying.
I dug my nails into his shoulders, then shoved at his chest, half-hearted, trembling. “Stop being careful,” I muttered, voice wrecked. “…It feels too good. Just move already.”
Cillian grinned. Cocky bastard. He rolled his hips in one deep, punishing thrust. It burned until his next thrust made it feel good.
“Mmm—fuck—” I gasped, head snapping to the side, burying my face in the pillow. His hand shot out, fingers gripping my jaw in a bruising hold. He yanked my face back to his, forcing our eyes to lock.
“Don’t you fucking hide from me, Moon.” His grip tightened. “I waited long enough to have all of you. I’m not settling for half.”
The wet, obscene sound of him fucking into me filled the room. It felt far too good. My hips kept rising to meet every thrust. How am I ever going to keep denying this shit after tonight? There would be no clean version of this memory.
Cillian moved over me, emerald eyes burning down into mine. Sweat and dried blood from the fight streaked his collarbone and throat, making the black ink flex and glisten with every powerful thrust. The thorns across his chest tightened over hard muscle.