16. CHAPTER 16 #3
He hooked my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half, pressing me deeper into the sheets.
Slow, devastating strokes that punched the air from my lungs and dragged a broken sound from my throat.
Fuck. The angle shifted. I felt him in my stomach.
Is this normal? My mind scrambled for control, for some shred of dignity while the Ashbourne heir rearranged my insides.
Obscene. Invasive. So fucking good I wanted to hate him for it.
“Fuck—I’m so close,” he groaned against my mouth, voice cracking. “You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, prince. Been dying to fill you up since Saint Lucia. You’re going to take every last drop of me.”
“Cillian.” My fingers locked behind his neck. “Please. I want you. Don’t stop.”
Our bodies locked, sweat-slick. I sound desperate. A broken, humiliating moan ripped out as the second orgasm crashed through me, spilling hot and messy between our stomachs while my body milked him with shameless pulses.
Cillian groaned. “Fuck—Moon—I’m coming—” He drove to the hilt with one final brutal thrust and came hard, flooding me with thick, wet heat.
His hips jerked through it, grinding deep.
Forehead slammed to mine, both of us shaking, breathing each other’s air while he kept pulsing, forcing every drop deeper.
I held myself very still, staring at the ceiling, waiting for shame that never arrived.
It should have come. Years of rules. Warnings. Expectations. Legacy. They couldn’t vanish just because I’d let Cillian Ashbourne fuck me. Any second the Gallery, the Seat, my father’s voice would crash back in.
Instead the only thing that arrived was the quiet, devastating truth. I didn’t wish it had never happened. I wished it hadn’t ended.
Cillian’s forehead rested against mine, breath ragged. One large hand stroked down my side, fingers digging in. His hips gave one last shallow thrust.
Safe. Exactly why I needed to leave. If I stayed, this stopped being a mistake. If I stayed, there would be no version of the House of Moon successor left to protect. I didn’t say any of it. My hole kept fluttering around his softening length, milking the last drops of his release.
He finally pulled out with a wet sound that made my stomach clench. The sudden emptiness made me flinch. I bit the inside of my cheek.
Cillian immediately dragged me against him, arms locking around my waist in a crushing hold, chest flush to my back, one leg hooked over mine. His cock, still half-hard and slick, nestled against my ass like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” he murmured. “Stay. Just… stay, Moonshine.” His hand slid down, palm warm over my hip, thumb brushing slow circles. “You okay?” he asked. “Any pain?”
Fuck. Why was he looking at me like that?
“This changes nothing.”
His arms tightened, fingers flexing. “Moon…” The way he said my name cracked something dangerous in my chest.
I sat up slowly, ignoring the protest in my body, the sticky mess between my thighs, the way my arms still shook. Control. I needed it back before I let this destroy me. I reached for my clothes. The fabric felt cold and wrong against heated skin.
“You got what you wanted,” I said, even as my fingers trembled on the buttons. “Tell Mikhail I’m ready to leave.”
Cillian sat up like I’d struck him. For a second he just stared, chest rising and falling too fast. Then, in one frantic motion, he surged forward, arms wrapping around me from behind, pulling my back flush against his chest. His grip was iron-tight, almost bruising, one hand splayed possessively over my stomach while the other gripped my hip.
“Stay,” he rasped. The word cracked. “Don’t do this. Not tonight.”
His whole body was coiled tight against mine, trembling. His lips pressed open-mouthed to the nape of my neck, desperate. I stepped forward, breaking his hold. His fingers lingered, sliding down my arm as I pulled away.
“No. This was a mistake.”
Silence stretched. When I glanced back, his jaw was locked, eyes too bright.
I smoothed my shirt down. “I said… Tell Mikhail I’m ready to leave.”
“You goin’ back to her?” Raw with jealousy. “Right after you begged me to fuck you?”
My chest went painfully tight. Zara was nothing. Just a shield. Saying it now would make this real.
“This has nothing to do with her.”
He watched me for a long moment. Then he reached for his phone, defeated.
“Fine. I’ll message Misha.”
I gave him my coldest smile. “It’s just sex, Ashbourne. Get over yourself.”
I was already carving out my own heart and calling it control. I headed for the door before stupidity won. And stopped. There, on the heavy oak desk beside an open Korean textbook, pages covered in Cillian’s messy, determined handwriting, phonetic notes underlined twice, sat my penguin keychain.
The little blue penguin stared back at me. He’d been practicing. For me. Don’t act like it meant something. Why the fuck does it feel like it did?
I focused on the floor. Legs still shaky. I stepped into the corridor. The door clicked shut behind me like a final fuck you. I should never have let him inside me. I already missed the burn of him. And the worst part was knowing I would let him do it again the second he asked.