15. Ciaran #2
Warmth spreads in my chest, Adeline making me laugh no matter what. But when she slams the door and sees me taking out two plates and opening the fridge, her frown comes back.
“I already ate lunch.” She curls back up on the sofa.
“A Diet Coke and an apple isn’t lunch.”
I pull out bread and lunchmeat. After I cut my creation into two triangles, I take a photo.
Ian’sBrother: Flowers don’t keep you fed, @TheAdelineAkatov. #Ipromisedyoulunch
She’s got bruises on her tits, but since I’ll kill anyone who looks at her, I use this twenty-first century modern way to publicly mark and claim her.
When I place her plate on the coffee table, she doesn’t look up from her book.
“My roommates are awful,” she mumbles.
I pause, glancing at her book. A dragon fills the fiery red cover.
“The final book in my favorite series released today,” she adds, still pretending to read. “I’ve been looking forward to it since the date was announced.”
“Yeah, all right,” I say and head into my room to change into something more comfortable. There’s a slew of notifications on my phone, all from Seamus, who’s already seen my post.
Seamus: Sandwiches!
Seamus: You’re telling me she was hangry???
Seamus: I’m telling Ian about this.
Good luck getting him to reply. I come back out of the bedroom, eating my own sandwich in front of my computer. I research something Cormac asked me about.
Adeline snuggles into the couch, nothing but crumbs left on her plate.
She pads into the bathroom, doing that same little adorable half walk thing she does.
She goes straight back to her book. Sometimes I’ll see a hand reach out for her Diet Coke.
Once she startles me, sitting up straight, her eyes wide at whatever she’s reading.
We don’t talk about it. About whatever the fuck we were fighting about. When the afternoon shifts to evening, I ask her about dinner.
She shrugs, unbothered.
“You have to eat.”
“Just make another sandwich.”
I make her a grilled cheese this time, posting a photo on my Instagram stories. When I hand her the plate, her eyes light up.
“Thank you!” she says, careful not to get grease on her book.
It’s ten o’clock when I take a shower.
“Are you staying up all night?” I ask from the bedroom, wrapping a towel around my waist.
She doesn’t look up. “I don’t know.”
I brush my teeth and check my emails one more time. There’s only one light on in the living room, a lamp emitting a soft yellow glow. I kiss Adeline’s forehead and slip into bed, naked and alone.
But the night, just like the afternoon, isn’t uncomfortable. I’d prefer Adeline’s body wrapped up against mine, but the easy silence brings a peace I’ve rarely felt. The flat is my home for the time being, a space away from the chaos of the O'Connells. I like when Adeline is here.
Part of me holds out hope she’ll come to bed, but that slowly fades as my eyes close.
The bed dips, the blankets shifting.
“Did you finish it?” I rasp, rubbing my face.
“No,” she softly replies. “I didn’t want to rush it, though, so I stopped.”
“Come back tomorrow after class and finish it.”
Her hands cradle her head as she lies on her side. “I need to study. I really shouldn’t have taken today off.”
“You can have one day.”
“Says the workaholic.” There’s something in the way she says it. I guess she has been around enough to notice the work schedule.
There’s only the whirl of the ceiling fan and the blankets rustling as Adeline gets comfortable.
“I’m sorry,” I say into the dark. “About the somnophilia.”
There’s a pause, the weight of Adeline’s feelings pushing against me. “My sister Lennie introverts a lot. Like, we’d go to a busy restaurant, and my dad used to take her out to the car before we’d completely finished because he knew she needed a moment.
“My family thinks I’m the Energizer Bunny. And I do like keeping busy, I know that. But sometimes. . . I get overwhelmed too.”
I roll on my side, facing her. Hair has fallen into her face, and I already know it’s my duty to brush it back.
“It’s just a lot,” she whispers. “Everything.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with you trying to be perfect all the time?”
“Don’t start on that,” she begs.
“Next time you’re angry, just tell me that. Text it if you don’t think you can say it in person.”
“Text what?”
“I’m upset you didn’t tell me goodbye,” I reply dryly.
It might be dark, but I can still see her rolling her eyes. “Okay. Sorry, I mishandled things.”
“We both did. I. . . I had a bad day yesterday too, and I should’ve taken a breather.”
She strokes my arm. “What do you mean? Did something happen?”
“Just a weird meeting.” It wasn’t until this afternoon that some of my tension finally dissolved. “And look, I’m sorry about the video—”
Adeline grabs my hand playing with her hair and drags it down. My fingers trace the arousal stuck to her thighs.
“It’s fine,” she says shyly.
I swallow. “What kind of book were you reading again?”
Her soft laugh is sweet. Her voice huskier than a few seconds ago. “I said I got overwhelmed. Not that I didn’t like the video—and what happened in it.”
My body rolls toward her. “Really?”
Her hand teases my hair as I crawl down her body.
“Ciaran,” she mumbles when I kiss her bellybutton. My lips trail across her skin, my fingers digging into her waist.
I spread her thighs, licking her seam. I kiss her wet cunt, and I spread her open, spearing my tongue inside her.
My hand presses her waist down, holding her in place. A disgruntled murmur leaves her but I hold steady. I suck and bite and nibble.
She tries to squirm, her breath quickening when I gently trace her clit with my tongue, my finger doing the same a second later. Her hips rock as I alternate between feathery kisses and firmer ministrations.
My favorite thing is hearing the different strangled cries as she tries to quiet herself. It only drives me mad, furthering my need to undo her completely.
Placing one leg on my shoulder, I spread her wider, sucking her. She stiffens in surprise when I swirl her arousal to her arse, teasing.
“No, wait.” She lifts her torso. One look from me and she flops back down, her hands fisting the bedsheet. “Wait. . .”
Her chest heaves, her mouth dropping open.
“You know I’m going to have it too, princess,” I murmur in between suckling her pussy.
One finger toys with her arsehole, forcing her to open up. I’m rewarded with a breathless moan.
I tease her, my finger pushing into her arse while I suck her clit.
She jerks again, her fingers twisting into my hair. The pain only heightens my nerves, my cock weeping with need.
“Wait, wait, wait.” She panics, trying to pull me away.
The effort is null as I feast on her.
“Ciaran.” The final syllable floats, her body stiffening, her muscles clenching.
I clean her, my tongue still lapping as her muscles ease against the mattress. My cock is begging for relief, but determination keeps me on task.
Until she threads her fingers through my hair again, pulling me to her.
I let her taste herself on my lips. Her hand moves for me, but I stop her, forcing them back beside her as I thrust my cock into her swollen cunt.
After I fill her up, I gently untangle myself, cleaning her up. She’s already floating off to a dream when I kiss her forehead and fix the covers.