Chapter 17 Kieran #2
She props herself up on one elbow, lips curving into a knowing smile. That smile. The one that promises trouble wrapped in sweetness. “You didn’t think we were finished, did you?”
I huff a laugh, dragging a hand through my hair. “After what just happened, I thought maybe you’d want—”
But her mouth is already on mine, cutting off the thought, kissing me hard, hungry. She nips at my lower lip, pulls back just enough to whisper, “I don’t want to stop.”
My body answers before my mind can argue. I’m already half-hard again, twitching at the sound of her voice, at the fire in her eyes. But I force out a breath, trying to hold the line. “Deirdre…you need rest. We’ve pushed enough.”
She ignores me. With deliberate slowness, she trails kisses down my chest, her hair spilling over my skin, her tongue leaving heated traces in her wake. My muscles coil, my fists clenching into the sheets when her lips brush lower.
“Deirdre,” I growl, a warning that comes out ragged, betraying just how close I am to losing it again.
She glances up at me through her lashes, feigning innocence even as her mouth hovers over me. “Unless…” Her voice is a whisper of pure temptation. “Unless you don’t want me?”
That’s all it takes. My control shatters.
In an instant, I fist her hair gently but firmly, pulling her head back so I can see her face. Her lips are swollen, glistening, her cheeks flushed with heat and anticipation.
“You have no idea what you just started,” I rasp.
Her smirk broadens, spreading across her face like a mischievous shadow, and then she takes my cock into her mouth with a tantalizing slowness, each movement deliberate and precise, as if she’s savoring the gradual unraveling of my composure.
My head tilts back, a guttural curse tearing itself from my lips, raw and uncontrolled, as my fingers weave tighter into her hair, anchoring me to this overwhelming moment.
She is relentless yet playful, a bold dance of teasing and torment.
Her tongue is like a skilled artist painting strokes of pleasure, circling over the swollen head of my dick, coaxing every nerve in my body to strain and tighten.
My hips buck and yearn toward her with an intensity that borders on desperation.
With a fistful of hair, I rear her head back, pulling my cock out of her mouth with a resounding pop.
Her eyes are glazed over as she looks at me with a delirious grin, licking her lips.
By the time I haul her up to me, I’m shaking with need. I flip her onto her back, caging her beneath me, my mouth crashing against hers.
“Another round?” I grind against her, already sliding between her thighs, her heat making me dizzy. “You think you can handle it?”
Her laugh is breathless, taunting, the sound of someone who knows she’s already won. “Try me.”
All of the hesitation leaves my body, and I accept the challenge.
The instant she breathes, “Try me,” something in me fractures—shattering every last scrap of reason.
I crash my mouth onto hers, ravenous, my tongue forcing its way past her lips in a kiss that’s nothing like the timidness we have known since the attack.
It’s urgent, feral—my animal-like plea for more.
She claws at my shoulders, dragging me impossibly closer, her touch telling me she’s starved for this as much as I am.
Six weeks of tiptoeing around our need, of silent restraint and hollow fear, explode into white-hot flame.
I press my body against hers, and she arches, a low, trembling whimper slipping free the moment my cock finds her pussy. That tiny sound ignites me further. My hands blaze over her—thighs, waist, breasts—devouring every inch as though I’ll lose her the second I let go.
“God, Deirdre…” My voice is coarse, raw, nearly swallowed by hunger. “I need you like I need air.”
Her nails rake down my spine; she bites her lip, voice trembling with want. “Take every frustration out on me.”
I growl. I lose all control.
I hook my arms under her legs and haul her to the edge of the mattress in one brutal sweep.
She gasps, mouth already parted in eager invitation, her eyes shining with desire.
I drive into her in a single, fierce thrust—sink impossibly deep—and she cries out, a sweet, ragged sound that tears a guttural noise from my chest.
“Mine,” I growl against her lips, hammering into her with relentless force. “Every inch of you is mine.”
Her head falls back, letting moans tumble free with each hard stroke. She wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer, urging me faster. My rhythm is merciless, hungry, but her body matches me in fire—rising to meet every drive, every pulse.
I watch her unravel: the flush spreading up her neck, the sheen of her skin, the overwhelming trust blazing in her gaze even as lust clouds her eyes. It shatters something deep inside me.
I slow, just for a heartbeat, leaning over and pressing my forehead to hers while keeping my thrusts agonizingly slow and worshipful. I can feel her teetering on that edge, her pussy tightening around my cock.
“Say it,” I rasp. “Say you’re mine.”
She loses it; the noises that rip from her are nowhere near audible words.
Her climax tears through her in one shuddering wave, nails digging into my back, legs quaking as she pulls me over her edge.
I follow, burying myself completely as I roar my release, every barrier inside me buckling under the force.
We collapse together, spent and trembling, our breaths ragged in the hush that follows. I press my face into the curve of her neck, heartbeat drumming against her skin in perfect sync with hers.
“I am yours, Kieran,” she whispers finally, as if she’s confessing her soul.
She pulls my hair, guides my head against her chest. My voice is raw but certain. “I will never let anyone hurt you again.”
Wrapping my arms tighter around her, as if that seals my promise, I silently swear to any deity that will listen.
Nothing will stop me from making Trevor beg for his last breath.