Chapter 8
CLARA
Saturday morning dawned crisp and cool, perfect weather to kick off the fall festival. By ten, the parking lot was already filled with cars, families spilling out in search of cider donuts from the store before the festival started.
I’d been running around since sunrise, restocking and pitching in where needed.
By late afternoon, my feet ached, and my ponytail was a frizzy mess, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
The place looked perfect. And Ronan had been here since eleven, helping wherever I pointed without complaint.
He’d even taken an hour-long shift driving the tractor for the hay rides, much to my father’s delight.
Mom found me near the photo-op cutouts next to the entrance of the corn maze.
“You’re done for the day, sweetheart.” She pressed a cold bottle of water into my hand. “Go enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it.”
“But the—”
“Everything’s covered. Your dad’s got the hay rides, Harper and the twins are in the store, and I can handle the rest with Shawn’s help.
He’s eleven, so he can take tickets here as well as you can.
” She made a shooing motion with her hands.
“That handsome man of yours has put in a full day’s work, so we’re more organized and less frazzled than usual. Take him around and have some fun.”
I glanced over to where Ronan stood talking to Dad near the tractor. He looked up, caught my eye, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that made my knees go weak.
“Okay.” I grinned. “But if anything goes wrong—”
“It won’t. Go.”
I jogged over to Ronan, grabbed his hand without thinking, and tugged. “Come on. You’re off duty.”
He raised a brow but let me pull him along. “Bossy today.”
“I figured I’d take a page from your book so we can take full advantage of the last hour of the festival.”
He wasn’t as excited as I was, but I appreciated that he didn’t resist as I led him to the pumpkin painting area. There were long tables set up under the big oak, where kids were elbow-deep in orange and green paint.
I handed him a small pumpkin and a brush. “Show me what you got.”
He quirked a brow. “I don’t paint.”
“Everyone paints,” I insisted, not in the least put off by his skeptical look. “It’s a festival rule.”
He sighed and shook his head as he dipped the brush into black paint and made slow, deliberate strokes against the pumpkin. When he turned it around, he’d painted a simple skull with crossed bones. Rough, but kind of perfect.
I laughed. “Very biker.”
He shrugged. “I painted.”
“Fair point,” I conceded, tucking his mini pumpkin in the pocket on the front of my hoodie before leading him over to the bean bag toss. I handed him three pumpkin-shaped bags. “Bet you can’t get all of these in the hole.”
He smirked. “Watch me.”
Quickly proving me wrong, he didn’t miss once.
I narrowed my eyes and taunted. “Luck. Let’s see if you can do it again?”
He snagged the bags, and my jaw dropped with each bag that fell through one of the holes. After a baker’s dozen, I sighed. “Okay, you proved your point.”
He winked and tossed the last two pumpkins. When the final bag sailed in, a couple of teenage boys nearby whooped. One of them yelled, “Dude, you’re a beast!”
Ronan just shrugged and walked over to retrieve the bags. Handing them to me, he murmured, “Your turn.”
I held the record for the bag toss in my family, but with Ronan’s gray eyes on me, I only managed to sink two of the three bags.
“Nice job.”
I waved off his compliment, sorely tempted to try again and show him exactly how good I was, but I decided to take him over to the corn maze instead. We slipped in just as a big group was coming out, so the paths were mostly empty.
I started toward the first turn, but Ronan caught my wrist. “Blindfolded.”
I laughed. “What?”
“You know this place like the back of your hand. Gotta make it fair.” Before I could argue, he stepped behind me, covered my eyes with one big hand, and wrapped the other arm around my waist to guide me forward. “Walk.”
I could feel his chest against my back, his breath stirring my hair. Every step felt intimate, his body steering mine around corners I couldn’t see as he paused at each one to ask me which direction to go.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I teased.
“Best part of my day so far.”
The corn rustled around us, and for a few minutes, it was just us in our own little world until we emerged at the exit. Ronan dropped his hand but kept his arm around my waist.
A guy I grew up with from a neighboring farm walked over. “Hey, Clara! The festival looks great this year. You guys killed it.”
“Thanks.” I smiled politely. “How’s your patch doing?”
“Solid. We’ve got the biggest pumpkins in three counties.” He glanced at Ronan, sizing him up. “Hey, I’m Tyler.”
“Rebel.” Ronan’s arm tightened around me, just enough to make his claim clear. “I’m her man.”
Tyler blinked, then laughed. “Got it. See you guys around.”
He walked off, and I turned in Ronan’s arms. “Caveman much?”
“Just making sure he knows who you belong to.”
The possessiveness should’ve annoyed me. Instead, it lit me up from the inside. I tipped my head back, my voice soft but challenging. “And who do I belong to, Ronan?”
His eyes darkened to tarnished silver. “Me.”
I only had the heat simmering between us all week to blame for goading him into acting on the attraction between us beyond a kiss. “Prove it.”
He didn’t need more of an invitation than that.
We slipped away from the festival noise, up the back stairs to my apartment.
The door barely clicked shut before he had me against it, his mouth crashing down on mine.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, my fingers already tugging at his leather cut.
It hit the floor with a soft thud before we kicked off our shoes.
Then his hands slid under my shirt, cupping my breasts through my bra, his thumbs brushing my nipples until I whimpered into his mouth.
His hands drifted under my butt, and he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pointed toward the door to our left. “Bedroom.”
He carried me in and set me on the edge of the mattress, then stepped back just enough to strip. When he was bare, his thick dick curving up toward his stomach, my mouth went dry.
“Look at what you do to me, baby,” he rasped.
I couldn’t look away. He was beautiful in a brutal way—inked skin stretched over muscle, scars here and there, and his dick already leaking at the tip. My thighs pressed together instinctively.
He knelt between my legs, his hands sliding up to undo the button and zipper of my jeans. “Lift.”
I arched my back, and he peeled them off along with my panties in a slow drag. Then he whisked my sweatshirt over my head and made quick work of the clasp on the back of my lacy bra to uncover my breasts. It felt like his gaze ate me alive as he stared down at me.
“Fuck, Clara.” He spread my legs wider, his thumbs parting my pussy lips. “So wet for me already. Been thinking about tasting you for so damn long.”
Considering we’d only met a week ago, and I’d never done this before, it really hadn’t been that long. But I understood what he meant because it somehow felt like I’d waited my entire life for this moment.
Before I could respond, his mouth was on me. His tongue licked through my wetness from entrance to clit. I cried out, digging my fingers into his hair. He groaned against me, the vibration making me buck.
Gripping my hips to hold me in place, he ate me like he was starving. He sucked my clit, then dipped inside over and over until my hips were rolling against his face, chasing more.
“Ronan, please,” I gasped.
“That’s it,” he growled. “Ride my tongue, baby. Come all over my face before I fuck you.”
His dirty talk pushed me over the edge. I shattered with a cry, my thighs clamping around his head as pleasure ripped through me, unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. He didn’t stop until I was shaking, oversensitive, and boneless.
Rising over me, he caged me with his arms, his dick brushing my thigh. “You sure you’re ready for this? Once I take you, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine.”
I’d never done this before, but that didn’t stop me from reaching for him, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes. Please. I need you inside me.”
“Thank fuck.” He lined himself up, and the broad head nudged my entrance, stretching me slowly as he pushed in. The burn was intense, and I gasped.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmured against my lips. “You’re doing so good. Taking my cock like you were made for it.”
He sank deeper inch by inch, groaning low in his throat when he pushed through the proof of my innocence. “You saved this pussy for me?”
“Yes,” I panted, holding on tight.
A possessive gleam shone from his eyes. “Such a good girl.”
When he finally bottomed out, his hips flush to mine, he stilled and kissed the tears from my cheeks. “Let me know when you’re good, baby.”
I took a few deep breaths before wiggling my hips to test how it felt. When there was only the slightest sting of pain, I blinked up at him. “I think you can move now.”
“So tight,” he growled as his dick dragged against my inner walls. “Fucking perfect. This pussy’s mine now, Clara. All mine.”
He sank back inside with a slow, deep roll, letting me adjust. Every thrust of his dick lit me up inside. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels digging into his butt, urging him to go faster.
“More,” I whispered. “Please.”
“Greedy little thing.” His hips snapped forward hard enough that the bed creaked beneath us. “You feel that? That’s me claiming every inch of you. No one else gets this. Ever.”
I moaned, my head tipping back. “Yes, yours. Only yours.”
“That’s right.” He hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle so he hit deeper. “Come on my cock again, baby. Squeeze me. Milk me dry while I fill you up.”
His hand slid between us, his thumb circling my clit in tight, perfect strokes. The dual sensation of his thick dick pounding and the friction on my clit sent me spiraling fast. “Ronan, I’m—”
“Come for me. Now,” he commanded. “Let me feel your pussy strangle my cock.”
I flew apart harder than before, my cry muffled against his shoulder as my inner walls clenched around him. He followed with a guttural groan, burying deep and pulsing inside me. I was too lost in the moment to really think about the fact that there was nothing between us.
When it was over, we collapsed together, sweaty and panting. He rolled us so I was tucked against his chest, his arms locked around me.
I pressed my lips to his throat. “That was…”
“Yeah.” He kissed my forehead. “It was.”
I smiled against his skin. “You’re staying, right?”
“Not going anywhere.” His hand stroked down my spine.
I fell asleep wrapped in his arms, claimed in a way I’d only ever dreamed about.