Chapter 15
Arms over his head, Ronan gripped the bed’s headboard with white-knuckled strength, his entire body stretched taut on a rack of incredible pleasure.
His chest heaved for every breath, and sweat ran down his chest. Ireland lay between his spread legs, her braced elbow on his thigh, her other hand stroking up and down the base of his erection.
He fought the need to move restlessly, his feet flexing although he tried to remain still.
His sac was drawn tight and full, aching with the need to pump his cum into his cher’s wickedly talented mouth. His cockhead touched her throat, and she hummed with delight. The vibration raced through his body.
“Maudit!” he bit out, trembling violently.
He’d woken to the feel of her hot mouth sliding over his dick, and nothing he said, no admonishment to be careful of her injuries would dissuade her. She’d literally made him crawl up the bed, the ravenous suction of her mouth unbearably fantastic and incredibly erotic.
Every time he spent the night with her, she couldn’t get enough of him. And now that he knew how she craved his pleasure—and particularly, the result of it—he was aroused beyond belief. There were no limits between them. They took greedily from each other and gave with abandon.
Desperate to climax, Ronan’s need was so fierce that he feared hurting her.
So, he clung to the headboard, quivering with pleasure, every breath a struggle as his body strained against his self-imposed restraint.
He was nearly there, his dick so hard and swollen he could drive nails with it.
He panted heavily, feeling the warning tingle of imminent release at the base of his balls.
“I’m going to come,” he gasped, certain his eyes were crossing.
Ireland’s mouth released him with a soft little pop of sound. “Not yet.”
He nearly snarled with his impatience. “What have I done to deserve such torture?”
“Oh, cher,” she crooned, and the use of the endearment sent a different, sweeter shockwave of delight through him. “Am I being selfish?”
Closing her eyes, Ireland nuzzled her cheek along the damp length of his erection as if she adored and worshipped it. It was singularly the most carnal thing he’d ever witnessed, and he showed her that by the thick wash of precum that surged hotly from the wide head of his dick.
“Hmm.” Her tongue darted out, the point finding the hole at the tip of his cock and massaging it.
His serrated groan begged her for mercy as her lips wrapped around the sensitive head.
She drew on him in strong, rhythmic pulls, moaning as she swallowed the stream of pre-ejaculate that now spilled steadily from him.
Mon Dieu, she was stunningly beautiful. She had the face of an angel. And to see such perfection sucking his dick with such enjoyment was driving him out of his mind.
“You’re killing me, Ireland.” And he wasn’t exaggerating. His blood was so hot, his heart pounding so frantically, that he wondered how he was surviving.
“But you licked my pussy so good last night,” she crooned, licking him like a dessert. “You made me come so hard. I get wet just thinking about it. Returning the favor seems only fair.”
He couldn’t argue her point because tasting her so intimately was indeed one of his joys, and he could indulge in it for hours if she could take it. The sound of her throaty cries…the feel of her sweet, soft pussy clenching around his tongue as she climaxed… He was obsessed with it. With her.
“I have what you need,” he said hoarsely. “Take it.”
Eyes on his, Ireland opened her mouth and lowered it down to the crown of his cock.
She pumped the thick base in her fist, her cheeks hollowing with the force of her suction as if to milk the cum from his balls.
He roared with relief as his dick erupted in a heavy gushing of semen over her working tongue, her throat tightening and releasing as she swallowed with low moans.
He lost his sight, the room darkening to blackness as the orgasm tore through him, his cock jerking with every wrenching pulse. His blood rushed through his ears, deafening him, until he was left panting, boneless, and thoroughly spent.
Her eyes were on him as she lifted her head, her tongue licking his cum from her lips with a dreamy smile of delight. Her mouth was plumped and red from stretching around him. He took immense satisfaction in having marked her that way.
Unclenching one hand from the headboard, Ronan lowered his arm to caress her cheek. His entire body was sore from straining against the ecstasy of her mouth, but he’d never felt better. And as soon as he could breathe and think again, he’d ensure she felt the same.
“Mon Dieu, you’ll be the death of me.”
Her laugh was throaty and fiendishly happy.
The ringing of his phone swiftly erased what sensual fog remained.
He swore as he reached for it, realizing that the light through the window was brighter than it usually was when he left the bed to get ready for work. The time displayed along with Jules’ contact photo confirmed that he was running late.
Raking a hand through his sweat-damp hair, Ronan struggled to regulate his breathing, his body still vibrating and his muscles twitching. He answered. “?a va, Jules?”
“Claudy and I will be there in about ten minutes.”
“I’m going to be late,” he said gruffly.
“How late?”
“Ten minutes or so more than what it will take you to get here. I need to shower and dress. You two can go on without me, and I’ll follow.”
“We’ll wait for you. Your grand-mère called Claudette last night.”
Ronan sighed. He’d received calls from her, too, and knew he needed to explain his extended absence. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Hanging up, he acknowledged that he was avoiding necessary conversations, and it couldn’t continue. Ireland had fearlessly drawn the line with her family, and it was time for him to do the same. He hesitated because she was vulnerable now.
The Boudreauxes were experts at sensing weaknesses to exploit. And he would have to introduce her to them. She and he would have to stand side-by-side before his grand-mère, a united front, as they’d done with Cross.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, rolling carefully onto her back and arching sinuously.
He managed an easy smile, not wanting to worry her about anything beyond her own recovery. “I’m going to be late. Not a good look for the new guy.”
“Are you kidding?” She grinned. “I love the way you look after we’ve spent the night together. You’ve always got a swagger, but it’s different. More delicious. I like to think every woman who sees you knows you’ve spent the night fucking. It’ll be better when they know it’s me who’s so lucky.”
“I’m the fortunate one, cher.”
“You sweet talker, you. Keep flattering me, and I’ll suck you off again.”
“Merde.” His head fell against the headboard again as he willed strength into his legs. “You’re trying to kill me.”
Ireland pushed herself upright and swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna get ready and go with you.”
Ronan sat up, alarmed, and set his hand on her shoulder. “You have things to do here, Ireland. Getting some rest, most importantly. Reviewing dossiers. Followed by more rest.”
“I can do that at work. Now that my father has moved out, it’s even more important that I at least show my face. And I’d really like to talk to Brett and the band about “First Kiss Goodbye.” Just to let them know that I’m really excited about the song and we’re going to support the hell out of it.”
“I can let them know your thoughts. And you should be able to do some of what you want from here, non?”
“I won’t stay long. An hour or so,” she said, standing.
“I would rather you didn’t.” He turned to sit on the edge of the bed.
Looking down at him with an icy expression too reminiscent of Cross’s, she asked, “Are you telling me not to go?”
He gave an exasperated sigh and stood. “You’ll do what you want, Ireland. But I have a right to say I’m not comfortable with you going out, and I don’t like it.”
“Okay. And I’ve heard you.”
Ronan gripped her shoulders, bent his head, and kissed her. She was unyielding at first but quickly lost the tension. She smelled and tasted of him, soothing the growing possessiveness he felt.
Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers. “I want you happy, healthy, and safe.”
“One out of three ain’t bad,” she said, giving him a quick, hard kiss.
He groaned. “I don’t even know how we’d smuggle you out, cher.
There are still reporters outside, hoping to catch you or your brother.
But more than that, it’s a risk in general.
Everyone knows you’re here. Anyone who hopes to gain access to you will be waiting, and with the number of people outside, it’s too easy for them to hide. ”
“There’s no place safer for me than with you,” she reminded him.
“Except for a penthouse apartment in a building owned by Gideon Cross.”
Stepping around him, she walked toward the bathroom. “You didn’t feel it was that safe when my dad stopped by yesterday.”
“You weren’t expecting anyone.” He followed her, relieved to see that her backside was unmarked and unharmed after the horror of seeing the injuries on the front of her body.
“If you tell Jules to pull up to the garage entrance, we can leave that way. We won’t be outside for more than a minute.”
Reaching the bathroom, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched her turn on the shower. “Why are you pushing yourself so soon?”
She faced him, and he restrained himself from wincing at her healing injuries.
“I’m not pushing. I feel fine. A little banged up, yeah. But I’ve gotten bruised pretty good in the studio, too.”
“There’s a difference between getting injured while practicing self-defense and being assaulted by a kidnapper, non? And physical condition aside, you’ve been through a very traumatic experience, and that needs tending to as well.”
Her arms crossed. “I think I’m handling things pretty well. Maybe I’m even stronger than you think.”