Chapter 18 Ciaran #2
Her breath catches at my crude words, but there's no shock in her expression—only heat and a hunger that matches my own. Her hand slides between us, wrapping around my aching length with fingers that shake slightly from arousal.
The first touch of her hand on my cock makes me bite back a groan. She's soft and warm and perfect, and when she positions me at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her slick heat, I have to fight not to slam forward and bury myself to the hilt.
"Now," I growl, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. "Take me in. All of me."
She guides me forward slowly, her body opening for me inch by torturous inch. The tight, wet heat of her cunt gripping my cock makes my vision go hazy with lust. She's so fucking tight, so perfectly made for me that I can barely breathe.
"Fuck, Brynn," I rasp, my control hanging by the thinnest of threads as I sink deeper into her welcoming heat. "You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect."
When I'm finally seated fully inside her, her walls clenching around me like a velvet fist, we both freeze. The sensation is overwhelming—the way she fits me like she was made for my cock, the soft whimpers falling from her lips, the way her hands grip my shoulders like I'm her anchor in a storm.
"You're so deep," she breathes, her eyes wide with wonder and desire. "I can feel you everywhere."
The raw honesty in her voice, the way she's looking at me like I'm something precious, makes my chest tight with emotion I'm not ready to name. But I push it aside, focusing instead on the way her body is responding to mine, the way she's letting herself go completely.
I start to move, pulling out slowly before sliding back in with deliberate, measured strokes. Each thrust draws soft moans from her lips, her back arching as she meets my movements with increasing desperation.
"That's it," I murmur against her throat, my lips trailing over the sensitive skin there. "Let me hear you. Let me know how good I'm making you feel."
Her response is immediate and intoxicating. She moans my name like a prayer, her hands roaming over my back and shoulders, her legs wrapping around my waist to pull me deeper. The way she's giving herself to me completely, holding nothing back, makes my cock throb inside her tight heat.
"You feel so good," she gasps, her nails digging into my skin. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I wouldn't dream of it. I set a rhythm that's slow and deep, savoring every stroke, every clench of her walls around my length. The sound of our bodies joining fills the small room, wet and obscene and perfect. Each time I thrust into her, she meets me eagerly, her hips rolling to take me deeper.
"Tell me how it feels." My voice is strained with the effort of maintaining control. "Tell me what you need."
"Harder," she pleads, her voice breaking on the word. "I need you to fuck me harder. Please, Ciaran."
The desperation in her voice, the way she's begging for more, snaps the last of my restraint. I've been patient long enough, gentle long enough. Now I'm going to show her exactly what it means to be mine.
I pull back and slam into her with enough force to make the bed creak, and the sharp cry that tears from her throat goes straight to my cock. Her walls clench around me so tight it's almost painful, but it only spurs me on.
"This what you wanted?" I growl, setting a pace that's hard and claiming and desperate. "You want me to fuck you like I mean it?"
"Yes," she sobs, her body arching beneath me as I drive into her again and again. "Gods, yes. Just like that."
I lean down to capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans as I pound into her with everything I have. This isn't just fucking—this is claiming, possessing, showing her that I'm not going anywhere. That what's between us is real and powerful and worth fighting for.
I can feel my control slipping completely. The way she's responding to me, the way she's letting me take her apart piece by piece, makes something fierce and possessive roar through my veins.
"Come for me," I command, reaching between us to circle her clit with rough fingers. "Come on my cock. Let me feel you fall apart just like you promised me."
Her response is immediate and devastating. Her back bows off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her. The way her walls clamp down around me, milking my cock with rhythmic pulses, pushes me over the edge.
I pull out at the last second, my release erupting across her stomach and chest in thick, hot streams. The sight of my cum marking her skin, claiming her in the most primitive way possible, makes my cock pulse with aftershocks of pleasure.
She looks perfect like this—flushed and sated, my come painting her skin, her eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction. The possessive satisfaction that floods through me is almost overwhelming. She's mine now, marked by me, and I never want to let her go.
I collapse beside her on the narrow bed, both of us breathing hard as we come down from the high. When I reach for the cloth beside the washbasin to clean her, she catches my wrist, her fingers still trembling slightly.
"That was..." she starts, then trails off, seeming to search for words.
"Perfect," I finish for her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "You were perfect."
I clean her gently, taking care with the sensitive skin, and when I'm done I pull her against my side. She fits perfectly there, her head on my chest, her arm draped across my stomach.
For a moment we just lie there in comfortable silence, and I can feel something shifting between us. The walls she's kept up are cracking, letting me in just a little more. But I can sense her retreating again, that familiar wariness creeping back into her posture.
"Stay," I say quietly, my fingers trailing through her hair. The word hangs between us, loaded with meaning and possibility.
Her eyes widen, and I can see the fear flickering there alongside the lingering desire. She's pulling away again, mentally if not physically, and I know I need to be careful here.
"Just for tonight," I add, keeping my voice gentle despite the desperation clawing at my chest. "Stay with me tonight."
She hesitates, and I can practically see the war raging in her mind.
Part of her wants to stay, I can tell, but the other part—the part that's been hurt before—is screaming at her to run.
She's still holding back, and while I want to drag her out to be with me, I know I have to keep trying to earn her trust.
Even if I want her so bad it hurts. I have to tread lightly. I'm so close to tearing down those last walls. I can feel it.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she nods. "Just tonight," she whispers, settling back against my chest.
The relief that floods through me is almost overwhelming, but I force myself to remain calm. It's just one night, but it's progress. It's her letting me in just a little more, and I'll take whatever she's willing to give.