Chapter 14 - Amber #2
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that,” she admitted.
This time, Cillian looked at her as if she had gone insane. “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he said.
“That was a lie. We just went over this,” Amber argued. “I’ve been putting up an act for years, and now that Eric’s come back, it’s all crumbling down.”
“I’m not talking about that. You are incredibly strong, even if you don’t realize it.
Think about everything you’ve done,” he said.
“You had the courage to run from the man who was abusing you and making your life hell. You were strong enough to handle Sier and the Ironbrand pack. Even now, you’re still pushing forward.
You’re incredibly strong, even if you don’t believe it.
But you can’t just pretend that trauma isn’t there.
That’s only going to make it worse. Accepting it’s there is the first step of moving on.
You have to face it. You can’t keep running from it, or it’s only going to keep plaguing you. ”
“How?”
“Do you really think that anything that happened with Eric is your fault? Really?”
She opened her mouth, then frowned. It was her fault, wasn’t it? Except, the more she considered it, the more she realized he had a point.
“I guess not,” she finally said.
“Right.” He reached out again, cupping her cheek. Without realizing she was doing it, she leaned into his touch. “You can’t let that fucker get to you. He doesn’t deserve your attention.”
She felt pinned in place, his hand burning her skin and sending electricity rippling through her at the same time.
Her breath went shallow. At that moment, she didn’t care about Eric.
The only thing that mattered was Cillian sitting next to her, looking at her as though he’d never cared about anyone else.
Everything she had been holding back, all those barriers she’d built to keep herself at arm’s length from Cillian, shattered.
All of her reservations seemed so insignificant and meaningless.
She was tired of holding back. She wanted to indulge, to give in to everything that she had been trying to ignore.
After everything, she wanted release. She wanted to lose herself for a while.
More importantly, she wanted Cillian.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she tugged him toward her and brought his lips to hers.
He responded eagerly and nearly instantaneously, as if he had been waiting for her all this time.
His hand slipped behind her head, his fingers tangling in her already messy hair, pulling her closer.
She shivered at his caress, heat building inside her.
Her hands ran along his stomach, tracing the scars, the muscles.
After holding herself back for so long, indulging felt like a release.
She relished the way it felt when he pushed her down against the bed, her head cradled by the pillows.
Without breaking the kiss, his mouth conveying weeks of want and need, he leaned over her.
His own hands slipped beneath her shirt, caressing her bare midriff.
Her breath hitched at the feel of his calloused hands against her skin, something about their roughness sending more heat rippling through her.
They slid slowly upward, inviting her to stop at any moment, but she wasn’t going to stop.
She didn’t want to. She let her mind go blank until the only thing that mattered was him and the growing warmth spreading through her body, the way he made her heart beat faster with every gentle touch.
His lips broke away from hers, and his mouth trailed down her neck.
New ripples of need reverberated through her, starting wherever he touched.
A moan escaped her lips, her back arching at his caress.
Her mind began to go blank. All the worries, the nightmares, began to vanish as if they were nothing. They didn’t matter.
Cillian tugged off her shirt. Once it was off, he threw it to the floor, not taking his eyes off her bare torso.
His gaze raked up and down, an unmistakable hunger lurking in it.
His hand slid up her side until he cupped her breast. His thumb flicked her hard nipple, his eyes locked on hers, watching her reaction.
She sucked in a breath, her back arching.
Each of Cillian’s touches felt like a response to some call she hadn’t realized she’d made, as if he was entirely in tune with what she wanted, completely preoccupied with her.
Taking one of her nipples in his mouth, he bit down gently. She groaned.
He continued toying with her, his hands roaming her body, his thumbs brushing the waistband of her sweatpants, barely slipping beneath, just enough to tantalize her.
She let out a soft gasp. When she didn’t protest, his hand slipped a little further down as his mouth trailed upward once more until their lips were pressed together once more.
He kept his hand beneath her sweatpants, unmoving, almost teasing her with its presence.
She wanted his hand to slide inward, to rest between her thighs, but he kept it stubbornly motionless.
She wanted to beg him to move his fingers, but his mouth remained locked on hers, making it impossible to speak.
Not breaking the kiss, he grabbed her sweatpants and began to tug them down.
Her heart pounded at the roughness and hunger there, as if this was all he had been thinking about for weeks, and he was tired of waiting.
He yanked her pants and underwear down until they were down around her ankles, and she kicked them off the rest of the way.
Cool air brushed against her thighs, contrasting with the warmth of his body, only making wherever he touched her burn even hotter.
He pulled away, eyes sweeping across her body. His fingers caressed her legs, and he stared at her as if he had never seen anything so beautiful. His hands rested on her hips, thumbs brushing along the bones, coming tantalizingly close to her clit.
Her hand slipped down his torso toward his boxers, and she could feel him hard beneath the fabric.
She bit her lip, her own craving for him consuming her.
After holding herself back for so long, that need for him felt like an almost overwhelming force.
She grasped his cock through his boxers, and he moaned, his entire body going rigid for a moment.
Without waiting, she tugged down at the fabric.
His cock sprang out, fully erect. She took in its length, and a new hunger washed over her. Slowly, gently, she ran her fingers along his shaft, barely touching it with the backs of her nails. He let out an inarticulate sound, his cock twitching beneath her touch.
She wrapped her hand around the shaft and began to stroke. He grabbed her wrist, gently but firmly.
“As great as that feels, that’s not what I want right now,” he said.
She frowned, unable to hide her confusion. “What do you want, then?”
He leaned forward, and she caught a whiff of his rugged scent. His lips nearly brushed her ear.
“Right now, I want to help you relieve some of that stress,” he murmured. One hand trailed down her stomach, stopping at her bush. He gave a playful grin. “I think you might need it.”