Chapter 17 #3
"It's not funny!" I hiss, the flush radiating down my neck.
"This is a legitimate concern. Sexual compatibility is important, Cillian.
And don't get me wrong, I'm game for plenty.
I just, I hope you won't be crushed if it turns out I'm not some sex goddess like whoever the tabloids have you paired with. Stop laughing!"
He's still chuckling low in his chest as he presses his forehead against mine, then pulls back to look at me.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm only laughing because if you had any idea how desperately I've wanted you, you'd realize how crazy that sounds."
"You're not helping your case by laughing harder."
"I know. I'm a terrible man." His gaze goes serious then, those blue eyes locking onto mine. "I mean it, though. I don't give a damn about any of that noise. It's static. If you want slow and sweet, I'm all in. And if you want something filthy, I'll happily ruin you for anyone else."
I swallow hard. "Well. I could certainly get behind the second option."
"Yeah?" He lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. "You ready to find out exactly how filthy I can be, Ace?"
A breathless laugh escapes me. "Okay, I surrender. You can stop talking now."
"Thank god," he murmurs, and then his mouth is back on mine, hungry and possessive, drowning out every last rational thought I possess.
He trails a path of fire down my body, his fingers making quick work of my navy cotton panties until I'm completely exposed.
"You don't have to do that, you know," I blurt out, and I could kick myself.
He raises an eyebrow. "Do you not enjoy it?"
"No, I do," I say quickly. "It's just that it might put me more in my head. I always take a while, and then I start doing the math. How long it's been, and whether you're... We could just skip to the part where we're both enjoying it."
"Ace, this is the part for both of us. I've thought about getting my mouth on you again every single day since that hallway. Before that really." His voice drops an octave. "This turns me on as much as anything else we could possibly do. Maybe more."
"Really?" I eye him, skeptical. "It doesn't feel like a chore?"
He smiles, slow and sure, like he hasn't a doubt in the world, and I shiver as he lowers himself and starts kissing my thigh, taking his time, grazing his teeth over the soft skin until I moan and fist the sheets.
Then he hovers over my pussy and presses one soft, unhurried kiss to my clit, and a whimper escapes me before I can catch it.
I'm practically panting when he grips my thighs and spreads them wider, holding me open for him, settling in like a man with no other plans for the rest of his life.
"Cillian—"
“I'm a patient man, and the day going down on you bores me is the day you can bury me, because I'll have already died." He presses kisses up my inner thigh, closer and closer, like he's claiming territory.
The laugh that escapes me is half nerves and half something finally loosening in my chest. He looks up at me like the devil himself, a wicked glint in his eyes, before his tongue sweeps across my clit and the laugh dies in my throat entirely.
I moan into the quiet room, dizzy with the force of the sensations crashing through me. My hips jerk up, and he pins them down with one forearm, keeping me exactly where he wants me. Reputation or not, the man is definitely gifted.
"Yes, yes," I gasp, arching off the mattress and fisting the linens as I shamelessly grind against his mouth, an invitation he answers with a starving, greedy intensity.
He groans against my thigh as he slides a finger deep inside me, making me hitch a desperate breath, and curls it, finding my G-spot with maddening accuracy.
He begins to work me over, his tongue flicking across my clit in a frantic rhythm while his fingers drive into me, claiming me with every stroke.
I tangle my fingers in the dark hair at the base of his head, gripping him tight as he devours me, his touch unraveling every last shred of my self-control. I'm panting and trembling, certain I might actually see stars if he doesn't stop.
He works me harder and faster with his tongue, moaning like he can't get enough of me, and I forget every thought of the past or future, falling into pure sensation where the only tether to earth is his mouth and his finger driving me toward release.
The waves start building, mounting higher and higher, and I feel like I might actually be overwhelmed by it, so good and so intense I arch into him, crying out, no longer caring if anyone hears.
He goes faster, harder, and I'm right at the edge, so close I can taste it. Then, without any warning at all, he pulls off me and rolls onto his back on the bed.
I turn to him, panting, half delirious. "What are you?—"
He hoists me up and over him like I weigh nothing, guiding my knees to either side of his head.
"You're going to make yourself come on my face," he says, like he's reading out a weather forecast. "You're going to take as long as you want, at whatever pace you want, and I'm going to be down here having the best night of my life."
"I'll suffocate you." I look down at him, gripping the headboard for dear life.
He smiles, looking entirely at peace. "What a way to go."
Then he grabs my ass with both hands and pulls me down onto his mouth, and I throw my head back and cry out at the ceiling.
It's completely different like this, deeper, everywhere, mine to control, and I start grinding against him almost without deciding to, and he groans as if I'm the one doing him the favor.
It sends heat straight through me, knowing how fucking turned on he is with his mouth buried in me.
He works me harder and harder and I grind down to meet him, head thrown back, past shame, past math, past everything, chasing it.
"That's it," he growls into me, barely words. "Use me. Just like that. Don't you dare stop."
I couldn't stop if the building caught fire.
It builds and builds with me in charge of every second of it, and when it breaks I come with his name and my whole weight on his mouth, shaking, wrung out in waves so strong my vision goes static, and he holds me down through all of it and licks me through the aftershocks until I climb off him on arms that no longer work.
I fall sideways into the pillow, my lungs still burning. He turns his head toward me, a lazy, satisfied grin playing at his lips.
"So," he rasps, the Irish lilt thick and heavy while he catches his breath. "Still doing math, Ace?"
"What's math?" I manage, the words a whisper as I blink up at the shadows.
His laugh rumbles through the mattress, a deep, warm sound that vibrates through my entire frame. He's still chuckling when he hauls me across his chest and crushes his mouth to mine. I taste myself on his tongue and realize I don't feel polite or buttoned-up about a single fucking thing anymore.
"Alright." I slide off him onto my back against the pillows, feeling drunk on him and a reckless sort of courage I barely recognize, and tug at his shoulder. "Now get over here."
He comes willingly, rolling over me until the full, crushing weight of him is pinning me to the sheets.
He kisses me deeper, his hands hot and sure where they press against my skin, and I lock my legs around his waist with a frantic urgency, needing to be closer, needing to feel every inch of him until even that isn't enough.
His hands cup my face with a tenderness that makes my throat tight, then slide back to grip the nape of my neck, sending a shiver through my entire system. I'm completely gone for him, lost in a hunger so consuming I can barely remember my own name.
The kiss deepens and I melt into him further, the line where I end and he begins blurring until I think our souls might actually be merging. And if the look in those blue eyes is any indication, he feels it too. Then his mouth is back on mine and everything else simply falls away.
He shifts his weight and I pull him closer, gasping as he guides himself toward me.
He's hard and ready, and I'm already so wet and desperate for him that when he finally slides in, my whole body sighs.
I let out a shaky moan and he kisses me deeper, catching the sound with his mouth.
As he feels me shiver and clench around him, he starts thrusting with a hard, possessive rhythm, keeping me pinned under the size of him, hitting deep.
I wrap my arms around his neck, meeting every unyielding stroke, arching up until we're tangled together in a frantic, starving dance. It feels as right as anything I've ever known, like we've always belonged exactly like this, like it was inevitable from the very start.