Chapter 23 #4
"Faster," he demands, his eyes fixed on where we're joined, watching his cock disappear inside me over and over. "I want to see those perfect tits bounce. Want to watch you fuck yourself on my cock like you're starving for it."
I increase my pace, rising up until just the tip is inside me, then back down. My breasts bounce with every movement, swaying and jiggling, and his eyes are locked on them like he can't look away.
"Fuck yes," he groans. "Look at you. Riding me like you were born to do it. Those beautiful tits bouncing, that tight pussy squeezing me. You're fucking perfect, Margot. Absolutely fucking perfect."
"Touch me," I beg, grabbing his hands and putting them on my breasts. "Please. I need your hands on me. I need?—"
He doesn't need to be told twice. His hands cup my breasts roughly, squeezing them together, his thumbs finding my nipples and rubbing them in hard circles that make me cry out.
"These are mine," he growls, pinching both nipples at the same time, twisting them until I'm gasping. "These perfect fucking tits belong to me. This pussy belongs to me. Every inch of this body is mine, do you understand?"
"Yours," I agree breathlessly, riding him faster, harder. "All yours. Only yours. I'm yours, Cillian."
"That's right." He sits up suddenly, one arm wrapping around my waist to hold me steady, changing the angle so he's hitting even deeper. His mouth finds my breast and he sucks my nipple into his mouth, hard, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh.
I moan at the sensation, pleasure and pain blurring together, my pussy clenching around him so hard he groans against my breast. He switches to the other nipple, biting down, soothing the sting with his tongue, then biting again.
The dual assault—his cock inside me, his mouth on my breast—is almost too much to bear.
"I'm close," I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Cillian, I'm so close. Please?—"
"I'm mad about you, Margot. Fucking mad about you. You're mine. Every inch of you belongs to me."
"I'm yours," I sob. "All yours. Please?—"
"Come for me." His finger works hard against my clit, rubbing fast circles. "Come on my cock right fucking now. Let me feel you."
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me like a hurricane, like nothing I've ever felt before. My whole body convulses, clenching around him. Pleasure crashes through me in wave after wave, endless and overwhelming.
"That's it, sweetheart." He grips my hips and drives up into me hard, chasing his own release. "Fuck, I can feel you. Feel you squeezing me so tight. I'm gonna come. Gonna fill this pussy up and mark you as mine."
"Yes," I gasp, still trembling with aftershocks. "Give it to me. I want all of it."
He buries himself to the hilt and groans, and I feel him pulse inside me. The hot rush of his release flooding me, filling me up, marking me in the most intimate way possible.
The sensation of him—his cock pulsing deep against my sensitive walls—triggers yet another shattering peak, and I cry out as my body clenches around him, greedily taking every drop he has to give.
I sink against his chest, completely undone and boneless, my limbs heavy with a blissful sort of fatigue that makes movement feel impossible.
He’s still buried inside me, softening by slow degrees, and I can feel the warmth of his release beginning to seep out, tracing a slow, wet path down my thighs.
We remain there for a long, quiet moment, the only sound our jagged breathing as the adrenaline finally begins to ebb. Eventually he shifts his weight, his touch surprisingly tender as he brushes a damp strand of hair from my cheek.
"So," he murmurs, and I can hear the sudden flicker of uncertainty in his voice, the commanding officer replaced by the man who’s clearly mad about me. "Was that... what you wanted? It wasn't too much? Talk to me, Ace."
A helpless, dizzy giggle bubbles up in my throat like I'm drunk. Drunk on him, maybe, since I haven't touched a drop of wine tonight. I feel the tension leave his frame at the sound.
"Too much? Cillian, it was absolutely perfect." I prop my chin on his sternum, a slow smile spreading as I catch his gaze. "You really know how to deliver, you know that?"
"I aim to please," he murmurs, a low chuckle vibrating through his chest, and his arm bands around my waist to haul me up until we're nose to nose. The kiss he gives me now holds none of the raw dominance of the last hour; it’s soft and lingering and a little bit smiley, both of us too full of it to manage anything more serious.
"I love you," I say against his mouth, just because I can now. "It feels good to finally say that out loud."
He presses a slow, unhurried kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, his touch a gentle brand. "I love you too, Margot. Though fair warning, now that I’ve started saying it, I don't intend to ever stop."
"Good," I breathe, settling back into his hold while his hand begins to trace lazy, soothing lines up the length of my spine. "Because I’ll never get tired of hearing it."