Chapter Sixteen
CILLIAN
I don’t ask for Liam’s permission when I scoop Isla up in my arms, taking her to the bathroom. I think I’m done taking orders from Liam, at least in the bedroom.
I place her on the toilet, and she sways on the seat as if she’s drunk instead of just fucked out.
“What are you doing?” Her words are almost slurred, and I turn and cup her chin again, forcing her to look at me.
Her hazel eyes have gone a bit glassy.
“It’s called aftercare, Isla. You need it.”
She giggles, clearly lightheaded after all our activities. “I’m guessing Liam’s not great at aftercare.”
“Wouldn't know,” I mutter.
“You... this is the first time you three have done this?”
I freeze. “I can't speak for the others, but for me, aye. This is my first time with more than one person.”
“Really? But you were so good at it.”
Her praise makes my eardrums pound hard, and I turn on the faucet, filling the bathtub with warm water before sliding her into it and kneeling next to her.
“Oh, this feels nice.”
I hum, taking a cloth and wetting it before sliding it over her body.
She gasps at my touch, and I chuckle.
“Can’t calm down?”
“It’s hard,” she whines. “I came so many times.”
I lick my lips, my spent dick twitching at the thought.
“You did so good, mo chuisle.”
The term of endearment slips through my lips before I notice it, but she doesn’t seem to care, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
I slowly move the washcloth between her legs, and her thighs spread automatically.
She whimpers as I clean her, taking my time, sweeping the cloth over her nipples and then back down to her sex, making sure she’s washed out.
“Shit. Thought you were going to make me come again.”
“Maybe later.” I grin at her. “For now, you need to be clean and you need some rest. Sit up and I’ll wash your hair.”
She murmurs something incoherent in the back of her throat, and I take a cup I found on the sink and pour warm water over her sweaty, brunette locks.
I lather in the shampoo, making sure it’s foamy, and she moans while I massage her scalp.
“No one has ever done this for me. Washing me like this.”
“Really? You need to make better choices in men.”
She snickers. “I can’t believe the guy who’s the nicest to me after sex is the one who has the highest body count.”
“That’s my job. Not what I like to do.”
“Is this what you like to do? Wash girls after fucking them senseless?”
“Not exactly. Don’t usually stay long for the aftercare with others.”
“I’m different?”
Special.
I don’t know why the word pops in my head, but I push it away.
“Aye.”
“Are you taking care of me because you feel guilty for kidnapping me?”
I pause while rinsing out her hair. “No. Nothing like that. I just... I like it, okay?”
“You like taking care of others?”
I nod. “I do.”
She opens her eyes even though her face is wet, looking at me curiously. “You’re actually very kind, Cillian.”
I snort. “I don’t know about that.”
When her hair runs clear, I unplug the water, and she manages to stand on shaky legs.
I wrap her in a fluffy bath towel, and she smiles up at me, her hair wet and curling down her back.
“Will you stay with me, Cill? In my room?”
“Y-you want me to stay with you? Not Dare?”
She shrugs. “Dare can stay if he wants. Liam, too. But I want you to hold me, okay?”
My heart soars, and I try to tamp it down.
No reason to get excited. It’s not like she really means this. It’s just gratitude for the aftercare.
But in my line of work, and after the life I’ve lived, it’s hard not to notice when someone’s kind to you.
She walks on her own, a bit stiffly, and I wonder if she’s sore. God, she has to be, between me and Liam, and then her throat must hurt from Dare, with how big he is.
Liam and I are no slackers in that department, but Dare is... blessed.
When we return to the bedroom, Liam and Dare must have gone outside to talk or go to the kitchen. I can’t say that I care.
I want Isla all to myself right now, if I’m honest.
When she climbs into bed, she pouts at me.
I frown. “Are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt?”
“I’m feeling sad you won’t hold me.”
“Be patient.” I give her a smile, and she smiles back.
I undress my pants and climb into bed with her.
She presses her face against my chest before pulling away, tugging at my shirt.
“Want skin to skin.”
“I don’t know...”
“Come on, Cill. You just fucked me, you can be shirtless around me.”
I hate my body, it’s hideous. But I want to make her happy more, so I remove my shirt, dropping it on the floor.
My chest is littered with scars—cigarette burns from when I was a kid, before Ronan took me in. Then there’s my back, which... well, let’s just say I didn’t have the best childhood.
“Oh, Cill.” She traces her fingers along the old scars, and I shudder.
“You don’t have to touch me. Here, let me get the shirt back on so you don’t have to look at them.” I suddenly feel very vulnerable, open. Raw.
Isla just cuddles closer. “Don’t, please. I want to touch you.”
She presses her face into my chest again, breathing out and then placing her cheek on my skin.
My heart stutters in my chest as her eyelids droop closed.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I don’t sleep a wink, and at three o’clock in the morning, Isla wakes, looking at me with bleary eyes.
“Cillian? You’re... you’re not sleeping?”
I shake my head. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Are you worried I’ll run away?”
“No.” The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “Just... thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?” She sits up, cross-legged on the bed.
“Nothing for you to worry about. Go back to sleep.” I take her hand, tugging her back toward me, and she sways but doesn’t let me draw her close.
“You know me. Always a talker.”
I groan. “Don’t I know it. I’m just thinking about how much we fucked all this up if you’re really not Maggie Sullivan.”
“I’m really not.”
I look at her.
Can I believe her? Can any of us?
“Jury’s still out, but I want to apologize for grabbing you in that elevator.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t have had the time of my life last night if you hadn’t.”
“You can’t be serious.”
She shrugs, grinning at me. “I don't know. I had fun.”
“Do you always like it... so rough?”
“I had no idea I liked it like that, if I’m honest. But I won’t say I’ll always want it like that. What about you?”
“Rough. Always.” But as I watch her here in bed with me, my mind plays different scenarios, and a few sweet ones don’t look so bad.
So, maybe with her things could be different. Maybe I could make love to her once in a while, instead of just fucking. I haven’t ever felt that way about anyone, and I can’t say I’m not scared, because I’m terrified.
Her eyes search mine. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” I grunt, pulling her harder. This time, she falls against me with a giggle, and I put her in my lap.
She straddles me easily, and I hitch in a breath.
“Oh?” She grinds against me as I harden beneath her.
I’m still wearing my boxer shorts, but her heat scorches me, and I groan. “If you're tired, we don’t have to—”
She scoots back on my thighs and frees me again, pumping me to full mast with her small fist.
“Fuck, Isla. Are you sure?”
“Does it feel like I don’t want this?” She takes my hand and shoves it between her legs.
She’s slick already.
I bite my lip as she guides me inside of her. I try my best not to move or twitch my hips up, knowing she’s sore.
She slowly takes me to my hilt, and I let out a low grumbling groan in the back of my throat.
Isla moans as she flutters around me, getting used to me, and I grit my teeth to keep from grabbing onto her hips and slamming into her.
I want to be different with her. I want this to be about her, not me, so I’ll let her lead. For now at least.
Not having tasted her mouth yet, I can’t help but do it now.
I pull her down and kiss her, slow and deep, as she starts to roll her hips.
She tastes like rainwater and the roast beef we ate earlier, and I can’t get enough. It’s distracting me enough that I don’t feel like I'm going to come immediately.
Isla, on the other hand, seems to be reaching her peak quickly, moaning into my mouth. She’s so sensitive, especially after what we just did.
I worry briefly that Dare or Liam will walk in, but a part of me almost hopes they do. A part of me is petty, wants them to see that Isla wants me.
“Oh, Cill,” she cries out as she rolls her hips. “Oh, fuck, I’m going to come so hard.”
I pinch her nipples hard and then lower my hands to hold her in place as I thrust up beneath her, and Isla falls over the edge, clenching around me in rhythm, and crying out her pleasure.
I barely make it, coming right after she does, almost in tandem. It’s probably the most intimate sex I’ve ever had, and I can’t deny that it’s shaken me slightly.
Isla groans, leaning down to kiss my throat, and I shudder as she rolls off me, panting.
“Now do you think you can sleep?” She grins at me, and honestly, I do feel tired.
I pull her closer to me, murmuring against her ear, “I think that did the trick.”
She shivers before putting her head on my chest, throwing a leg over my hip.
I’m usually not much for cuddling, but I have to admit there is something about being here like this with her that calms me down. A peace I’ve never known blankets me.
Maybe this is why people have those things called relationships. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing.
But what do I do about the two other men who shared her bed with me, my brother and my best friend?