Chapter 17
KIERA
Sean didn’t waste any time.
He lassoed my waist with his arm, then guided me backward, away from the bathroom and toward the kitchen.
As soon as my back hit the island, he planted both hands on either side of me, caging me in.
I looked up at him. His moss-green eyes were heated and intense.
My insides went liquid because I could already tell what he’d meant when he said sex wasn’t a nymph’s second nature, but his first.
I also saw what it had taken for Sean to keep that part of him polite and restrained.
His hands slid up over my hips, grazing my waist, my ribs, over my shoulders and up my neck where they finally stopped. He held me like that, a warm hand holding both sides of my throat.
He tipped his head to the side, watching his thumbs as they stroked the lines of my jaw.
This felt so incredible I had to close my eyes, and the final remnants of my under-no-circumstances-are-you-to-do-the-hockey-player-lumberjack-nymph philosophy flew out the window.
Sean bent his head, and the move wasn’t slow. He crushed his lips against mine, and my mouth opened under his as if he’d uttered a command.
Then, when the tips of our tongues touched, his kiss took root so deep I felt it in my gut, then lower, deeper still. It was warm. Wet. Hot. Hotter. Deeper.
I tugged at his hair, and he moaned low in his throat. I liked the sound. No, I loved it.
His hands went to the hem of my Henley—his Henley—and tore it up my body. My arms flew straight up, and I lost his kiss for one mournful second before the shirt cleared my face. It came off, and Sean tossed it aside.
His mouth was back, and I rejoiced. He cupped one of my breasts, then hooked the cup of my bra with his index finger and slowly dragged it down.
He lowered his head and lathed my nipple with his tongue before—hearing my gasp—he closed his mouth around it and sucked deep.
A low, guttural groan of pleasure rumbled out of him.
I echoed the sound, and my fingers curled into his long brown hair, holding him to my breast, only easing up enough to allow him to move to the other side.
When he did, I scraped my nails down his arms, then pushed my fingertips into both sides of his waistband and slid them around to the front until my thumb felt the metal button on his jeans.
His lips were now moving up my chest as I popped the button and lowered his zipper, remembering that salacious underwear advertisement and wanting to get my first real look and feel of him.
Once the zipper was finally down, I rotated my wrist and slid my hand inside his pants, over his boxer briefs and grabbed his balls, claiming them.
He grunted at my touch, and his mouth came back to mine, kissing me even deeper than before, bending me backward until my head almost touched the kitchen island.
He bent forward, planting his forehead against my chest, then peeled my leggings down to my ankles, taking my panties with them. I pushed off one of my boots. He pulled off the other.
Then he grabbed me behind the knees, lifted me up, and set my ass on the counter.
He unclasped my bra at the back and pulled it off. His gaze dropped to my chest, now completely exposed to him.
“Christ,” he muttered, and I would have thought I was being scolded if he didn’t follow it up with, “You’re fucking perfect.”
I liked that he thought so, and I wished I had the chance to return the compliment, but he stole all thoughts from my head when he forced my legs apart—though honestly I didn’t fight it.
I liked how powerful he could be when let loose, much like the way he played hockey: fast, smooth, and agile.
He cupped my sex, and his middle finger slid in while his thumb hit my clit with such deadly aim, my head fell back. “Oh god.”
He kissed the side of my neck, sucking, while his fingers moved and my insides coiled.
With his free hand, he pinched my nipple, rolling, sending lightning shooting down my spine to my core, which constricted around his finger.
“Sean,” I warned because I was already very, very close to hitting the canopy of pleasure.
He understood, and his mouth left my neck. “Lie back.”
“What?”
“Do you want me?” he asked.
What a ludicrous question.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“Then lie back.”
“Okay, but…here?” I glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen island.
He reached forward and swiped his arm across the butcher block, sending my purse and the bag of marshmallows flying. “Do it, Kiera.”
I laid back.
Sean dropped to his knees on the floor. He slid his hands under my hips and jerked me so far forward my ass was off the counter. He pulled me to his mouth. Licked through my slick folds. Flicked my clit.
I gasped, and my focus narrowed down to that one area of my body and the intense pleasure he was creating.
Every cell in my body was singing the Hallelujah Chorus and racing toward the climax.
Sean must have sensed my orgasm building. Maybe it was the way my thighs spasmed or how I had a death grip on the edge of the counter.
He rose to his feet and pushed his jeans and briefs down over his ass, leaving everything at mid-thigh. I had just enough time to get a glimpse of him, and the sight seared my brain.
It was the longest, thickest cock I’d ever seen. And so freakin’ hard, it looked like it might crack under the pressure.
The memory of something he’d said earlier hit me like a thunderclap: I’m one with the trees, and I realized no truer words had ever been spoken.
In other words, the photographer had done a masterful job of blurring out the details in that sexy underwear ad because, this whole time I’d been with Sean-Ohmygod-Murphy, he’d been keeping a fucking tree branch of a cock hidden inside in his pants.
“Ready?” he asked.
I licked my lips.
Taking that as my affirmative response, Sean slipped his hands around the backs of my knees and drew them up around his hips.
He lined up his thick cock with my opening, and…
I had braced for his entrance, but nothing happened.
Was he suddenly unsure? Was he silently asking for permission? He’d just nearly sucked me to climax. I would have thought that was ample invitation to give me more.
“Sean, please.”
One corner of his mouth quirked—not smug, just…happy.
The blunt head of his cock prodded my entrance, parting me, but he didn’t slam inside.
He slid one arm under me and around my waist while his other hand cradled the back of my head. He gave me an inch, and I closed my eyes as I felt the stretch.
“Good?” he asked.
“So good.” And it was. And so were we. For a second, I convinced myself I could have this. That he could actually want me for real.
“Open your eyes,” he said. “Watch me. Watch us.”
I watched, mesmerized, as he slowly, inch by solid inch, slid inside, drawing out his progress.
I glanced up from our joining to his face. It was like holding up a mirror because in his expression I saw my own awe, my pain, my bliss.
I gasped when his hips met mine, and I realized he was fully seated, right to the hilt.
Sean held still. He didn’t move a fraction of an inch.
He just…filled me with that big cock, joining himself to me as if that alone had been his ultimate goal.
He breathed. Slow. Deep.
An eternity.
Finally, I had to ask. “Sean? Are you gonna move?”
He closed his eyes. “In a bit.”
I pressed my hips up into him, wanting to be encouraging. If he was going so painfully slow for my benefit, it wasn’t necessary. I might have even called it cruel.
He sucked in air through his teeth. “Don’t move. Just feel.”
“I want to feel you,” I said. “I want to feel more of you.”
“You’re so tight.”
“I can handle you.”
He shook his head. “I know you can. That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“Just that you feel so good. I don’t want it to end. I’d like to stretch this out for as long as I can, but, baby, the way your cunt squeezes my dick, I’m already about to blow.”
Okay. I liked the sound of that.
I bit down hard on my bottom lip because the intensity of what I was feeling, blooming between us, was getting a little scary.
His heated gaze dropped to my mouth, and his pupils dilated to the point his eyes looked nearly black. Then he moved.
At first, it was slow, gliding halfway out, then in. Hold. Out, then in. Hold. But when I scraped my nails down his back and grabbed onto his ass, things went faster. Harder.
I was panting against his mouth. He nipped my ear, then dipped his head to my breast, flicked his tongue against my nipple, and sucked.
A lightning bolt of pleasure shot straight to my core. It blasted through me, setting my skin on fire.
I sucked in air, holding my breath as I came hard, the throbbing relentless.
It was the single most fantastic orgasm of my life, and I focused on the sensation as my core contracted and released, spasming around his cock.
“Christ,” Sean muttered. “Fucking hell.”
Sean ratcheted up his speed for a few more punishing strokes, then came a second later. The semi-awed, semi-tortured look on his face was mind-scrambling.
A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye.
“Babe,” he said as his orgasm ebbed, and he opened his eyes. “You’re not a crier.”
I shook my head and sniffed. “I always cry when I come.”
“Really?” he asked, looking both curious and concerned.
I nodded. It was actually true. The emotion was always too great for me to contain.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’re happy tears.”
Sean smiled and kissed my nose.
I smiled back, though the pain of losing him was already creeping into the corners of my mind.
What we’d shared was good. It was great. But I knew it wouldn’t last. Nothing good ever did.