Keir glances down at me, biting his lip. “You’re so tight, Ella. Your pussy is made for my cock. I am the one who gets to stretch it out with my huge cock. Not anyone else.” He thrusts in again, his face contorting. “Ahh. You feel that, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my fingernails scoring his back. “You’re the only man who has ever made me come.”
“God damn right.”
I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling at him a little, urging him onward. He grimaces and puts his hands on my hips, easing my impatient movements. He closes his eyes and pushes himself inside, inch by slow inch. I feel like he’s stretching me out, little by little, filling me up and touching every single part of me. It’s always uncomfortable at first, even though I’m wet.
I know that he’ll have me howling by the time we’re done, though.
When Keir is finally inside me to the hilt, he opens his eyes, staring down at me with the most intense gaze I’ve ever experienced.
I reach up to pull his mouth down to mine, tenderly kissing him. He kisses me back, starting to move his body, withdrawing his cock and then thrusting back in.
“Ahhh, that’s so good,” he mutters, raising himself up so that he can see our bodies joined together. “Fuck, Ella. God, you’re so damned beautiful. So fucking sexy.”
He grabs my wrists and pulls them up above my head, working his thick cock in and out. I dig my heels into his upper back as he starts kissing and biting my neck again. I start to forget the discomfort, focusing instead on the pleasure of his lips on my skin, the wonderful weight of his body against mine.
I moan as he releases my hands in order to palm my breasts. It feels natural to wrap my arms around him to lightly rake my fingernails down his back.
Keir suddenly withdraws from me, flipping me over. I make a disgruntled sound and he slaps me on the ass.
“Don’t be like that.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. “Just trust me. Don’t I always make you feel good, darling?”
I flush, nodding, so overstimulated that I can’t speak. He guides me to my hands and knees, positioning his cock at my entrance before he plunges back inside.
“Ohhh!” I cry out, feeling my innermost muscles clench.
“Fuck, Ella! Your pussy feels so good,” he grits out. He takes my hand and guides it down to my clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. “Rub your clit, sweetheart. Think about my fingers on your body while you make yourself come.”
His words send a shudder of pleasure down my spine. He lets go of my hand and grabs my hips, thrusting his cock into me again and again, as hard as he can. I cry out as I start to touch myself, the sound strangled and uncertain.
“You’re so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Your hot little pussy is going to milk every drop of seed from my balls…”
I try to pay attention to his dirty talk, but it’s hard. Rubbing my clit is producing ripples of sensation low in my body. And Keir ramming his huge cock in and out of my pussy, make sure I feel every last inch of it, is making me feel overstuffed in the best way.
The way he is fucking me now is rougher, coarser than before… but for some reason I like it more. A lot more. I close my eyes, rubbing my clit, and feeling the brutal way he handles me, ramming into me over and over again.
An invisible spring tightens deep inside me with every thrust, feeding my craving. My fingers help me along, but it’s really Keir’s cock that makes little shudders of pleasure swell and burst across my body.
He’s touching some spot deep inside me, a spot that I seem to be able to angle my body just so to encourage him to hit over and over again. I lean forward, coaxing him, my fingers strumming my clit.
“Yes,” I groan desperately. “Yes, right there… I…”
And then I’m calling out his name, screaming it, as I go over the edge, falling into a deep ocean of pleasure. He stiffens and growls, filling me with three single, brutal thrusts. I can feel him pulsing inside my pussy.
Keir slows but doesn’t withdraw from my body right away. He wraps his arms around me, kissing my temple as our rushed breaths mingle.
“That was fucking intense,” he whispers.
I turn my lips to his, no words left. He finally pulls his cock out and lays down beside me, pulling me into a tight embrace. No words pass between us, but none are needed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
KEIRAN
I’m sitting at the dining room table and trying not to listen in on Kinsley’s conversation with Isla in the other room.
No, that’s a lie.
I’m hanging on every fucking word. In fact, I’m tempted to move to the other end of the table just so I can hear better.
So far, Isla is doing most of the talking, leaving Kinsley to mumble a few monosyllabic, uninterested words here and there. It’s hard for me to believe that this visit could be beneficial for my daughter in any possible way, but I can’t stand the thought of breaking her heart by telling her what a deadbeat her mother really is.
God knows she’ll discover the truth soon enough on her own.
“Did you want to come play for a while in my room, Mama?” Isla chirps, and I can’t help but grind my teeth at the thought of the two of them venturing to the other side of the penthouse where I can’t keep an eye—and both ears—focused on them.
I don’t have to worry for too long, though. Kinsley mumbles something and I can hear the disappointment in Isla’s voice when she says, “Oh, okay. That’s fine. We can stay out here and, um, watch TV. Do you like this show? One of my favorite cartoons is on a different channel. I can go ask Ella which one if—”
“No,” Kinsley snaps, making my daughter shut her mouth so quickly that I swear I can hear her teeth clack against each other. “We don’t need to ask her anything. You’re spending time with me now.”
“Okay, Mama.” Isla sounds like she’s on the verge of tears and I’m halfway out of my chair before I can even think about stopping myself.
Should I interfere? Kinsley promised she’d be on her best behavior if I’d let her come over and spend some one-on-one time with Isla. This isn’t what I had in mind, and I know for sure it isn’t the fun-filled visit Isla has been dreaming of for so long.
Still, I don’t want to be an asshole about it—not in front of our daughter, anyway. But I’m also not going to sit here and listen to Kinsley make her feel bad for no damn reason.
No.
Nope.
Fuck that shit.
I walk over to the doorway that leads from the dining room to the living room and pause a beat to school my features out of the scowl I’ve been wearing for the past several minutes.
“How’s everything going out here?” I give Kinsley a pointed look. “Having fun?”
Her eyes narrow as she huffs out a short breath. “We’re fine, Keiran. You don’t need to come in and check on us.” She turns to Isla without even attempting to soften her tone. “Go on, tell him you’re having fun.”
Jesus.
What is wrong with this woman? How in the hell did I ever convince myself I was in love with her? Giving birth to Isla was the only worthwhile thing she’s done in her entire life. I’ll be eternally grateful for that gift, but it sure as hell doesn’t give her a free pass to make our lives as miserable as hers.