Chapter 25
“Do you have a condom?” Eiley managed to pant out as Warren’s attention returned to her clit.
“Aye, but we don’t need one yet.” Without warning, he flipped her over so that she was the one straddling him. When his erection rubbed against her core, she couldn’t help but begin rutting over his briefs, desperate for friction. Desperate to be filled.
Warren gritted his teeth, grabbing her forearms. “Not yet. Fuck, not yet. I’m not done with you.”
A fire smouldered between her legs as she remembered his promise.
She wasn’t sure what to expect, or even how long this might go on for.
She didn’t even know how many orgasms she was capable of, considering one was usually a stretch.
Foreplay had never been a focus with Finlay.
He didn’t care if she was aroused enough, didn’t care if she’d orgasmed or not before he came inside her.
He certainly hadn’t spent this much time on her body; Warren supped on it like she was expensive wine and he was already drunk.
She’d been so afraid of getting naked in front of him, afraid that he wouldn’t like what he saw, but the opposite was true.
He kissed her like there wasn’t enough of her, like there never would be.
Like she really was beautiful.
So she pushed those insecurities and questions away to focus on him, because he deserved all of her.
He really did look like a work of fiction beneath her, ridged abdomen smooth and glistening with sweat, the planes of his chest smattered with dark hair, a birthmark shadowing his ribs.
He couldn’t be real, and yet she could feel the heat of his skin, the solidity of his muscles.
She could see lust radiating from every corner, every pore.
“Come here.” He beckoned, and she leaned over him, stationing her hands on either side of his head to kiss him. He allowed it for only a second, then pulled away. “Not like that, love.”
A squeak fell from her as he tugged her body over his, her core scraping up his torso. She ended up seated on his chest, clammy and confused. He seemed to like it, eyes sparking and lips spreading over overlapping teeth. “Don’t you want me to taste you?”
Oh . She’d never done that before.
But she was doing a lot of new things today, things she never might have been brave enough to once, and she was desperate for friction. Could only imagine what it might feel like to ride him while his – clearly very skilled – tongue moved in and out of her.
He traced the line of her arm from elbow to shoulder gently. “You can say no. If you’re not into it—”
His kindness made certain that the opposite was true, so she grabbed the headboard and shimmied up his neck, positioning herself over his face. “What if I … suffocate you?”
His laughter fanned her soaked pussy, and she glowered.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I can’t help it. You’re fucking adorable.”
She sighed, ready to pull away, but he kept her hips stationed in plea. “Let me worry about breathing, aye? I’ll tell you if it doesn’t feel right. Promise.” And then his eyes fixed on her folds, lids fluttering as though he was the one finding pleasure in this.
He nudged the hinge of her groin with his nose, suckling her inner thighs until she was wriggling in desperation. “Come on, love. I’m ready for you.”
She lowered carefully, and then his tongue trailed between her folds, and a cry clogged in her throat as a new, intimidating sensation pulsed through her.
Was this what it was supposed to feel like, overwhelming, white-hot liquid fire burning away all of her fears, leaving behind only pleasure?
How much had she been missing out on until now?
The peak of Warren’s nose bumped her clit, hands anchoring her thighs down despite her fear that she might squish him. He kept her in place with fierce determination as his tongue began to swirl over her entrance.
Eiley held her breath, trembling. She was already sensitive from her first orgasm; wasn’t sure how much more she could handle. And yet she couldn’t stop him, couldn’t pull away, her hips rocking of their own accord until the pulsing bliss rolling through her was all she knew.
“Warren,” she whimpered, knuckles turning white around the headboard. She lifted, trying to catch her breath, familiarise herself with her body again.
“It’s just us here,” he said. “You don’t need to be quiet now.”
And as though desperate to pull something louder from her, he tugged her back, his tongue lapping harder, faster, until her stomach was pulling with a tension so intense she was convulsing. Any worry melted away as her body took over.
“Warren!” She ground against his mouth over and over as her orgasm neared, leaning back as her limbs turned to jelly.
It offered a view of the mess he was making as he feasted on her with carnal ferocity, animalistic hunger, lids half-shut as though it was as pleasurable for him as for her. “Oh, god!”
“Louder,” he urged. “Tell me how good it feels, mo ghaol .”
A scream rent through the van as she unravelled completely, a string of incoherent mutterings that were mostly his name falling from her without control. He didn’t stop, only working her harder, tongue reaching further.
“Warren, I already came. I can’t—”
Except she could, and was, because his fingers – three, this time – plunged into her without warning.
Her last orgasm had barely ebbed when her next one wracked her like a thousand fireworks had been set off at once.
Her arousal soaked his face, something she might have been embarrassed about if she was still anywhere close to cognisant.
She rode until she couldn’t take anymore, then fell back onto his chest, heaving for breath.
His chin glistened as he rose to look at her, high cheekbones red and eyes closer to black than brown.
“One more,” he begged. “One more before I bury myself inside you. Can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.
” He fixated on her like a man possessed, tracing the crease of her groin.
She jerked when he edged towards her swollen clit.
She could barely hold herself up, now, and still she wanted more.
Had he snapped something inside her? A self-restraint she’d never had any problem with maintaining until now?
Should she be terrified?
She slid down to Warren’s waist as he rose to a seat, supporting her spent body. “Eiley, I need you to tell me if you want to stop.”
“I don’t ever want you to stop,” she admitted, and tasted herself on him when he kissed her.
This time, their rhythm was languid, his hands gentle over her tender breasts. When heat began to build again, she was certain somebody had swapped her body with someone else’s.
“You okay?” he asked, over and over. She nodded, rocking against his erection to show him just how okay she was.
She needed him. She freed his cock, spreading his seed over the pink head of his length with the pad of her thumb.
He was big enough that the thought of finally having him made her ache.
Her foggy brain was only able to marvel at how hard he was for her.
How he’d put his needs aside to make her feel good for this long.
“I could do this for days and it still wouldn’t be enough,” he said hoarsely, as though reading her mind.
She hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the sweaty nape of his neck. She was so tired, and not nearly tired enough. Not when he sucked her neck until her skin zapped with a pleasant sting. More love bites she’d have to cover up.
He fingered her slowly, gently, watching every flicker of sensation write itself across her face – like he was studying her. Like it was all he wanted, to see her enjoy it.
And god, did she enjoy it. So much so that she took control, grabbing his length and rubbing her clit along it until they were both slippery and groaning. When he nudged her open with his tip, still working her tits with his other hand, she came again, this one a tight clench that made her sore.
“I need you now,” she murmured.
“You’ve got me.” Groggily, she watched him open the drawer closest to his bed, tear the foil, and slip on the condom.
With his back turned, her gaze roamed his scars freely, from the thick tissue over his left shoulder to the smoother slashes across his spine.
How had they got there? What had he been through, not just when the damage had been done, but the healing that came after?
The white marks spider-webbed to the back of his ribs, and she couldn’t help but trace the shape lightly.
Warren’s throat bobbed, motions paused.
“Sorry. Is it okay to touch them?” She should have thought, but she was beyond capable of that now.
“Aye, if you want. Most people don’t.”
His eyes glistened with a sadness that dragged her back into her body. She wanted it gone, wanted him to know they didn’t scare her. If anything, it was another piece of him to discover.
So she gently kissed over the raised silver skin, followed the jagged shapes. A promise that he could trust her the way she had him. When she pulled back, she saw his eyes weren’t just glistening anymore: they were damp with unshed tears.
He opened his mouth to say something. Closed it and kissed her instead.
The fire between them still glowed bright, but there was no ferocity to it now.
Just raw, unwavering heat. Somehow, she liked it better.
They weren’t moving to chase their climaxes, but to just be .
To weave into one another. It was the first time she’d enjoyed waiting.
“I … Fuck, I don’t think I can wait anymore. Are you ready?” he asked finally. “Not sore?”
“I’m ready. I’m perfect.” She looped her arms around his neck as he lined himself up.
“Yes, you fucking are,” he said. Then, he guided her hips down, his cock sliding into her, and she’d never felt so connected to another person before.
He was big enough to ignite a glimmer of pain, and he paused. “Eiley?”
“I’m okay.” She was, a pleasant stretch all that remained as she seated herself on him.
Warren’s breath hitched, jaw flickering with a tension she tried to kiss away. “I’m not going to last nearly as long as you deserve. Feels even better than I imagined.”
“It’s okay,” she soothed, readjusting herself to take more of his thick length. He groaned into her neck, and it travelled through every corner of her. “I don’t care, as long as you feel good.”
The stillness was killing her, so she began to move, gasping when he filled parts of her she’d never known about until now. No wonder she’d felt hollow. There was nothing in the world that had ever felt this good, no person she’d ever been this entwined with.
She saw when lust took over, when his eyes flashed dark and something in his throat leapt. “Take what you need,” she begged.
He pushed her onto her back, lifting her hips so he could thrust deeper.
“I could stay inside you forever.” He was babbling as though to himself, veins visible in his neck. It was the hottest thing she’d ever seen, an image she wanted seared into her skin. “You’re so perfect. So fucking gorgeous, firecracker. Tell me you feel it, too.”
She wrapped her legs tighter around him, their skin slapping until she was certain he was a part of her. The best part of her. “I do. I – oh, god!” He hit her G-spot, sending shudders through her overstimulated core.
Warren grunted with each thrust, deeper and deeper, moulding her around him like they were made for each other. Again, he was drawn back to her tits, worshipping them with every lick, every touch. “Louder.”
He hiked her higher still to coax a scream out of her, and then his thumb was on her clit and her strongest orgasm yet washed through her like a roiling tempest, dragging her away with the rough current.
With a few final, devoted thrusts, he was climaxing, too, growling her name like it was all he could cling onto.
He collapsed on top of her, head between her breasts, her legs still wrapped around him as they bucked through the aftershocks.
When Warren tried to roll away, she tugged him back, afraid that letting him go would mean the end.
This thing between them wasn’t built to last, and she wanted to cherish every second she had left before they fell back into their real lives.
She traced his scars, watching his spine shudder against her.
“Eiley.” He said her name and then nothing else, as though he’d just wanted to remind himself of it once more.
Slowly, he lifted to meet her gaze, a piercing clarity lightening his irises. She brushed a tuft of sweaty hair off his brow, tensing as panic chased the pleasure from her body.
Because this wasn’t just sex, and he wasn’t just the irresistible playboy she couldn’t stay away from.
She wanted . Things she couldn’t want, shouldn’t want.
She wanted more of this, here. Wanted to see him laugh with Sky again, and read with Brook.
She wanted to know where his scars had come from, and when he’d first started realising how important the rules were.
She wanted to pick him apart and understand his pieces, and that was dangerous. Foolish, even.
She knew one thing for certain: she was going to get hurt again, sooner or later. The damage had been done the moment she’d stepped into this van and let him peel off her armour.
Now, she could only wait for the inevitable.