Chapter 33 #2
His torso is lean and lightly tanned, scattered with old bruises from his time with Vespera, but gods, he’s still stunning.
My fingers drift to the serpent tattoo on his forearm, wrapping around a dagger.
Then I trace over the ink along his ribcage—Memento mori, omnes. Remember, you must die, all of you.
I let my fingers drift down until they meet the waistband of his joggers—but he stops me. Gently, he lifts my chin, staring down at me just before he kisses me again.
“I love you,” he says against my lips. “More than all the damn stars in the sky. I will love you forever.”
I swallow hard just as he reaches for me, lifting us effortlessly.
My legs curl around his waist as he pivots toward the bed, and the moment my back hits the mattress, he hovers above me.
His eyes blaze into mine, all-consuming, before he dips his head, lips ghosting over the sensitive curve of my neck, sending heat spiralling through me.
He kisses, sucks, and bites—hungry, worshipping—and I arch into him, desperate for more. My breasts brush against his bare chest, skin on skin, and it sets my nerves alight. That feeling in my chest—full and aching—bursts wide open.
His lips drift lower, teasing across my chest until they find my nipple, sucking hard and pulling a gasp from me.
I arch instinctively, every nerve igniting under him.
Before I can catch my breath, his hand slips down to the waistband of my panties, fingers brushing over with deliberate, electrifying intent.
With one swift, practised tug, he rips them clean off—fabric tearing, the sharp sting against my skin making me gasp again.
My eyes fly open to find him grinning up at me, wild and wicked.
“Oops,” he says, utterly unbothered, mischief dancing in those baby blues. “Don’t worry, I’ll replace them. Or…” he pauses with a cocky wink. “Maybe I won’t.”
Then he kisses down my stomach, leaving a hot, open trail as he moves lower—lips brushing my belly, my hips, all the way to the edge of my pubic bone.
“I like the thought of you always bare under your clothes,” his eyes lock with mine, dark and hungry. “Ready for me to fuck, whenever I want.”
I really like that thought too.
“Naughty boy.” I prop myself up on my elbows, a slow grin spreading across my face.
His head rests just above my pussy, breath hot against my skin, and he groans—loud and guttural—like my words physically shook him.
“Fuck, don’t say that again.”
I let out a soft, wicked chuckle. “Why not?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. Ronan thrives off praise—being called good, needed, wanted—but this? It’s different, and it’s still new to him. New to me.
He nips my inner thigh in retaliation and lifts his head, eyes locked on me. “Because I want to be your good boy,” he growls, voice wrecked with need. It makes my lip part, makes me ache to taste him.
I crook a single finger and he breaks.
The control shatters, and he's on me, mouth crashing against mine, tongue desperate and devouring.
My fingers are already at his waistband, tugging down until I've got him in my hand—thick, hot, throbbing with need.
His groan vibrates straight through me. He kicks free of the last barrier and drives his body against mine, skin to skin, the sheer hunger of him pressing me deeper into the mattress.
I slide my palms up the length of his spine, tracing every line, every bruise, grounding us in this moment.
“Say it,” Ronan rasps against my lips, his cock grinding over my clit, making his breath hitch, every shudder in his body proof he's hanging on by a thread.
He's trembling with the effort, muscles wound so tight he might break—but he won't take me, not until I give him the one thing he's desperate for.
He wants the words. Needs them.
I lean in, dragging my lips along the shell of his ear, my voice nothing more than a sultry whisper. “You’re my good boy.”
He shudders hard against me, all that restraint fraying to nothing.
My smile curves against his skin as I drag my tongue along the shell of his ear, slow enough to be cruel.
“Now,” I whisper, threading my fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him whimper, “fuck me like the good boy you're dying to be.”
He braces over me, muscles tightening as he aligns himself, the blunt head of his cock dragging just enough to make me whine. And then—he slams into me, hard and deep, punching the air from my lungs in one glorious, brutal stroke.
His head falls back, tendons straining as a deep groan tears free. “Fuck…baby, you’re perfect. Always so damn tight for me.”
I moan, my head falling back against the pillows as my nails drag down his chest, leaving angry red marks across his skin.
Curiosity drags my gaze lower, and my god—it's intoxicating, watching him vanish inside me, over and over.
He pulls back slowly, every inch dragging fire through me, and then pushes forward again.
A ragged scream bursts from me as my body shudders beneath him.
Ronan grunts, kneeling upright, his hands locking around my hips as he pulls me up to meet each brutal thrust. The force of it has my back arching off the bed, my body bouncing with every motion as he drives into me again… and again… and again.
“Fuck, Cherry, you’re strangling my cock so good.”
I can’t even find the words—just nod, mouth open, eyes fluttering as I take everything he gives me.
The way he holds me, claims me, ruins me…
It’s like he’s trying to burn himself into every part of me, and I want him too.
I grip the sheets, knuckles white, as it all builds—fierce, frantic, all-consuming.
He slams into that perfect spot, and I cry out, louder this time, the sound ricocheting through the dim room like a spark. The lights flicker, a storm roars outside, rain drumming hard against the windows like it’s keeping rhythm with my pulse.
My body seizes and trembles, everything tightening as the pressure crests.
“Let go for me,” Ronan breathes. “Soak my cock, baby.”
My eyes snap open just as the thunder cracks in the distance, a flash of lightning illuminating his face—his flushed cheeks, his furrowed brows, messy dark hair, the way he’s barely holding on. He’s watching me like I’m both the storm and the calm within it. And right now, I am.
“Beg for me,” I commanded lightly.
His nostrils flare as he moans deeply. He rolls his neck like he's trying to shake the tension, his hands gliding up from my hips to grip my waist. Then he pulls me flush against him, my chest pressed to his, and drags his tongue slowly along my lower lip.
“Please,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and breathless. “Baby, I need you. I need to feel you shatter for me, to watch you come around me before I lose control. Ride me…show me how fucking perfect you are for me. Only for me.”
The desperation in his voice lights something primal in me.
I meet his gaze, storm, blown wide with want—and I can feel the bond between us thrum with need. My hands slide up to his shoulders before I lift my hips and sink onto him in one smooth motion.
“Yes, just like that,” Ronan grunts loudly.
I roll my hips again, letting my clit drag perfectly against him as I rest my arms around his shoulders. His breath hitches as I swirl my hips, owning every second, every inch of him.
“You’re such a good boy for me,” I pant against his ear.
He shudders, his touch flexing on my waist like he’s holding himself back. I kiss him deep and hungry, all teeth and tongue. He meets me with equal ferocity, thrusting his hips in time with my movements, matching me perfectly.
I can feel it building—fast and unforgiving—my orgasm coiling tight in my gut.
I start to move faster, more frantic, chasing the edge with every movement, and he meets me blow for blow, every thrust dragging fire through both of us.
He bites my lower lip, growling into my mouth, and I shiver against him, slick and burning, our bodies heating up as the cold air grazes our skin.
“Fuck…so perfect for me. Ride me…just like that, my good girl.”
My mouth parts on a gasp, but before a sound escapes, he grips my hips and slams me down harder, like he can feel exactly how close I am—like he needs to feel me fall apart on him.
My rhythm falters, hips stuttering against his.
“Come with me,” he sounds desperate, and the second his mouth captures mine again—I shatter.
The scream never makes it out. He swallows it whole, his own moans tangling with mine as we fall together. My entire body trembles violently against him, my vision blurs, and something flashes around us like a burst of magic.
His arms wrap around me, grounding me, even as the storm outside crashes in sync with the one we’ve unleashed between us.
We finally still, bodies pressed together, flushed and shaking, skin sticky with heat and sweat, hearts pounding in tandem.
For long, silent moments, we simply exist like this.
Ronan brushes a damp strand of hair from my face, his grin lazy.
“I can’t wait to have sex with you every day for the rest of our lives. ”
I swat at his chest with a soft scoff, but he just chuckles and kisses me—slow and tender, his hand trailing down to squeeze my ass.
Then, in that way only Ronan can manage—equal parts wicked and sincere—he murmurs against my skin, “And I can’t wait to destroy every bastard who’s ever tried to hurt you… and spend the rest of my life right here, with you.”
His words hit me deep. That aching, hopeful part I keep hidden, even from him.
I want to believe that. I want to hold on to this version of us; to believe he would still feel this way even after he learns the truth—the secret that could change everything. That could make them all turn against me.
The four men who stole something from me before I even realised it was missing.
My trust. My loyalty. My heart.
Pieces of me I didn’t mean to give, but did anyway.