Chapter 18 Ciaran
CIARAN
The taste of wine and want on her lips sends fire straight through my veins. Every careful wall I've built around my desire for this woman crumbles to dust as she melts against me, her soft sigh vibrating against my mouth like a prayer I never knew I needed to hear.
Gods, I've been holding myself back for weeks, being patient and understanding while she worked through her fears.
Giving her space, letting her set the pace, pretending I wasn't dying a little more each day from wanting her.
But now she's kissing me like she means it, like she wants this as much as I do, and I'm only a man.
Only a man who's been starving for the taste of her, the feel of her body against mine, the sound of my name on her lips when she's lost to pleasure.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and something primal and possessive roars to life in me.
Mine. The word echoes through my mind with such fierce certainty it nearly steals my breath.
She's mine, has been mine since that first day in her shop when she laughed despite herself, and I'm done pretending otherwise.
I deepen the kiss, claiming her mouth with a hunger I've kept leashed for far too long. She responds immediately, her tongue sliding against mine with a boldness that makes my cock throb against the confines of my pants. When she makes a soft, needy sound deep in her throat, I nearly come undone.
"Fuck," I growl against her lips, my control hanging by the thinnest of threads. "Brynn, I—"
"Don't stop," she whispers, her voice breathless and desperate. "Please don't stop."
That's all the permission I need. I stand in one fluid motion, my hands sliding under her thighs to lift her against me.
Her legs wrap around my waist immediately, and the feel of her heat pressed against my stomach makes me want to forget everything except burying myself inside her until she screams my name.
Her mouth finds my neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, and I have to bite back a groan. My magic flares outward without conscious thought, gathering our forgotten meal and the lamp, everything floating along behind us as I carry her toward the inn's entrance.
"Your room," she breathes against my throat, her lips trailing fire across my skin. "Take me to your room."
Desire and possession and something deeper all tangle together until I can barely think straight. I manage to get us inside and up the narrow stairs without dropping her, though it's a near thing when she sucks on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and I nearly stumble.
My room is small and sparse, but right now all that matters is the narrow bed I’ve been sleeping on. I kick the door shut behind us, my magic setting the lamp on the small desk and the basket on the floor with more force than necessary.
When I set her on her feet beside the bed, she looks up at me with eyes dark with want, her lips swollen from our kisses, her hair mussed from my hands.
She's beautiful like this—rumpled and breathless and wanting.
But it's not enough. I need to see all of her, need to watch her come apart under my hands, need to claim every inch of her until there's no question who she belongs to.
"Strip," I command, my voice rougher than I intended. I’ve been holding myself back for so long, and now that I’m giving in, I want to give into it all. Every dark, deep desire. "Now."
Her eyes widen slightly at my tone, but there's no fear there—only heat and a kind of desperate anticipation that makes my cock pulse with need. Her hands go to the ties of her dress without hesitation, her fingers trembling slightly as she works the fastenings loose.
The fabric pools around her feet, leaving her in nothing but her thin chemise and stockings. The sight of her like this—half-clothed and flushed with arousal—makes my mouth go dry with want.
"All of it," I growl, watching the way her breath catches at my words. "I want to see everything."
She pulls the chemise over her head, her movements still shaky but sure, and then she's standing before me in nothing but her stockings, perfect and beautiful and mine.
Her breasts are full and perfect, her waist curving into hips that were made for my hands to grip.
But it's the way she's looking at me—hungry and open and trusting—that nearly brings me to my knees.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," I breathe, drinking in every detail of her body. The way her nipples have peaked in the cool air, the gentle flare of her hips, the dark curls between her thighs that I'm desperate to taste. "So fucking beautiful."
"Ciaran," she whispers, and there's so much need in her voice that it takes everything I have not to throw her down on the bed and take her immediately.
But I want this to last. Want to savor every moment, every sound she makes, every expression that crosses her face when I finally make her mine.
"Get on the bed," I order, my voice low and commanding. "Lie back and spread your legs for me."
The blush that spreads across her chest and up her neck is the most erotic thing I've ever seen, but she does as I ask without question. She climbs onto the narrow bed and lies back against the pillows, her thighs falling apart to reveal the glistening pink flesh between them.
The sight of her spread out like that, open and wet and waiting for me, makes my vision go hazy with lust. My hands shake as I start unlacing my pants, every movement deliberate and slow despite the desperate need clawing at my insides.
"Touch yourself," I command, my eyes locked on the slick heat between her thighs. "I want to watch you pleasure yourself while I undress."
Her hand slides down her body with agonizing slowness, her fingers hesitant at first as they find the sensitive flesh at the apex of her thighs. But when she touches herself and her back arches off the bed with a soft moan, all hesitation disappears.
"That's it," I growl, finally freeing my aching cock from my pants. The relief of being released from the confining fabric is immediate, but it's nothing compared to the way her eyes widen when she sees me fully aroused. "Touch yourself like that. Show me how you like it."
Her fingers move in slow circles over her clit, her breathing growing more ragged with each pass. The sight of her pleasuring herself while I watch makes my cock throb painfully in my hand, precum already beading at the tip.
I wrap my fingers around my length and stroke slowly, matching the rhythm of her movements as I work my shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. Her eyes track every movement, drinking in the sight of my chest, my arms, the way my hand moves over my cock with practiced ease.
"Faster," I command, my voice strained with the effort of holding back. "I want to see you lose control."
She obeys immediately, her fingers moving quicker now, her hips starting to roll against her hand. The soft, breathy moans falling from her lips are the sweetest music I've ever heard, and I have to grip myself harder to keep from coming just from watching her.
"Ciaran," she gasps, her head falling back against the pillows. "I need—"
"I know what you need," I growl, stalking closer to the bed with slow, predatory steps. "And I'm going to give it to you. Every fucking inch of it."
Her fingers move faster now, her back arching as soft moans spill from her lips. The sight of her touching herself while I watch makes my cock ache with need, but it's the desperate sound of my name falling from her mouth that nearly breaks my control.
"Ciaran," she gasps, her hips rolling against her hand. "I want—I need you to feel me come. Please."
The raw need in her voice sends fire straight through my veins. She's begging now, all pretense stripped away, and fuck if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
"I want you to fill me," she pleads, her eyes locked on mine as her movements become more frantic. "Please, I need—"
That's it. I can't hold back another fucking second.
I surge forward, my magic flaring outward to throw up a sound shield around the room. The last thing I need is anyone hearing sounds that belong to me—what I'm going to make Brynn scream when I finally claim her.
"Move your hand," I growl, settling between her spread thighs. The heat radiating from her core makes my cock twitch with anticipation. "That's my job now."
She drops her hand immediately, and I lean down to capture one perfect nipple between my lips. The taste of her skin, salt and woman and something uniquely Brynn, makes me groan against her breast. I suck hard, rolling the peaked flesh with my tongue while my cock slides against her slick folds.
"Fuck, you're so wet," I rasp against her skin, grinding my length through her arousal. The friction is exquisite torture, coating me in her essence while I tease us both to the edge of madness. "So fucking ready for me."
Her hands fist in my hair, holding me against her breast as I lavish attention on the sensitive peak. When I switch to the other nipple, biting gently before soothing the sting with my tongue, she cries out and her hips buck against me.
"Please," she whimpers, her nails digging into my scalp. "Stop teasing me. I need you inside me."
The desperation in her voice, the way she's trembling beneath me, makes something primal and possessive roar to life. This beautiful, strong woman is falling apart in my arms, begging for me to claim her, and I'm never going to get enough of it.
I lift my head to look down at her, taking in the flush spreading across her chest, the way her lips are swollen from my kisses, the need burning in her hazel-green eyes. She's perfect like this—completely undone and wanting.
"Put me inside you," I command, my voice rough with barely contained desire. "I want to feel your hands guide me into that tight cunt."