Chapter Three
It doesn’t matter that my eyes are starting to sting with exhaustion and my mind is still an absolute mess thanks to Atticus and the games he’s caught up in, the moment Aodhan pulls me back into his lips, my body melts for him.
There’s been too much going on, too many things getting between us, and the stroke of his tongue against mine is like a sedative. Nothing else matters but the way I fit against his body and the feel of his hands cupping my face.
Everything about his movements are a slow torture. There’s nothing frenzied or rushed about the way that he’s slowly pulling me apart, piece by piece.
I get impatient.
I want to forget about everything happening outside of this little safe haven he’s created; I want to only exist for the two of us and the pleasure we can find in each other, but there’s no rushing him.
The moment I try, he pulls back. “If you want mind-numbing, leg-shaking, brain-breaking sex then quit trying to speed things up. You need to learn the difference between a quick fuck and me spreading you out and making a meal of you.”
My thighs clench together a little at the sound of that, and a slow smirk cuts across his face. He’s too attractive right now, too open and present and right here with me in this vulnerable moment.
I want to squirm away but he won’t let me, the grip of his hands on my face gentle but unyielding. I have no choice but to hold his eyes with my own and watch as he slowly tips my head back and kisses his way down my throat. The scratch of his stubble against the soft skin of my neck is like the perfect torture, rough enough to have me gasping even as he licks and sucks the sting away. There isn’t going to be an inch of my skin unmarked by the time he’s through with me.
He continues his slow torture until he reaches the opening of the shirt I’m wearing, his unhappy groaning at my skin being covered the only warning he gives me before he reaches up to yank it over my head.
I wish he’d hurry up and push inside me, something, anything, because I feel so fucking empty without his body covering mine and filling me, pushing and pushing until I want to burst.
I never want this to end.
His tongue circles one of my nipples before his teeth clamp down hard enough that a moan rips out of my throat and my hands tangle in his hair. When he moves to give that same treatment to my other nipple, my hands make a fist and tug until he’s grunting and grinding his hips against mine mindlessly.
I feel like a teenager.
I mean, I’m barely twenty years old but I never really went through the mindless makeout and grinding stage. Not really. Rory was the closest I came and that relationship was over before it started.
When Aodhan has kissed and scraped and sucked his way down to my hips, he shoves the sweatpants away and presses a kiss to the wet heat between my legs, my pussy already dripping from his slow seduction. I don’t think it would take much for me to come right now, one finger hooking inside me or the brush of the heel of his palm against my clit, anything would set me off.
Then he pulls away.
I don’t rise to the bait because I’m sure this is just the next level of teasing he has planned for me but then he tugs the towel off of his waist and throws it away and for a split second I think that he’s going to fuck me into next week, just what I need.
He lowers himself down… onto the bed next to me, splaying himself out like this is all done and over with.
I’m about to bitch him out into next week when he chuckles at me, his hand grabbing my wrist and tugging me over to him. “Climb up, Queenie. Get that pretty pussy on my face.”
There’s a lot of things about sex that I’d always found distasteful. To crawl over someone, naked, and have myself splayed open over their face? No thank you, that sounds like a horror story.
I’m just desperate enough to give it a go.
Except that Aodhan groans like a dying man the moment I straddle his face, his chest heaving and his hands more desperate now on my skin than they've been since he got home, and if that doesn't make my confidence skyrocket then nothing will. His fingers spread me open, adjusting my legs until he's practically smothering himself with my pussy, and I almost cry when his lips finally touch my clit.
I try to ease up a little, just shift away so he can breathe, but he lets out a snarl that sends vibrations straight to my clit until my legs shake.
I have to take a deep, calming breath before I can focus on anything other than what his mouth is doing to me. I don't want to be a pillow princess and just lie back while he does all of the work.
I want to make him feel just as good as he makes me feel.
With only two blowjobs under my belt, it’s a little intimidating to be in this position. Add that to how I’m attempting to make this a mind meltingly good blowjob and the pressure is on.
The French manicure on my fingernails looks strangely obscene wrapped around his dick and I wish he could see it but then his tongue flicks against my clit again and I’m gasping and trying to remember to stay on task.
Suck his brains out of his dick, Beaumont, for Christ’s sake!
I dive into the blowjob the same way I tackle anything, head first and with the false confidence of someone who has always gotten what they wanted, one way or another.
I relax my throat enough to swallow him down in one go and the groan he lets out is that of a dying man, long and choked out as though he’s in pain. It gives me the confidence to not only keep going but to put my all into it, no matter how I look or the sounds I’m making.
Humming works quite well and almost backfires on me because the groan he lets out over my clit takes me all the way to the edge in one go, the wave of my orgasm washing over me until my legs are shaking and just barely keeping me up.
The embarrassment of falling on him might kill me.
I desperately want him to come first, even if that does put a dampener on the rest of my plans, but no matter what noises he makes in appreciation of what I’m doing, he doesn’t want to lose this game we’ve found ourselves in. He also knows exactly how to shove me over the edge and when I reach down to cup his balls gently, rolling him in my hand, he obviously gets close enough to coming that he finally stops his teasing and gets to work properly, two fingers slipping inside of me and hooking until he’s stroking over my G spot mercilessly.
I almost choke, I come so hard with him so far down my throat it hurts.
I forget sometimes how strong he is when all of my limbs start to shake and I think I’m about to fall, his hands wrap around my hips and lift me off of him, maneuvering my body until I’m straddling his waist now and not his face.
“There’s no way I’m riding anything right now, give a girl a break,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as wrecked as I’m feeling.
He grins up at me, his face drenched and glistening with my cum that he’s made no attempts to wipe away. “You look too fucking pretty sitting on me; let a man enjoy the view for a minute.”
I blush like a schoolgirl and my eyes narrow at him for making me so goddamn soft, but his grin just gets bigger and more lecherous.
I’m not expecting him to flip me over, his hand cradling the back of my head so the impact onto the pillows doesn’t jar me and by the time I’ve realized what it is that he’s doing, he’s finally, finally, pushing inside of me.