I nodded, chewing on my lower lip. The sparks danced in the air around us. Ciaran made a move, but not toward the door. He stepped forwards, closing the distance between us with one long stride.
He gripped my chin with a large, warm hand, ensuring my eyes were locked on his. I was hypnotized by the contrasting browns—the light flecks near his pupils, which were huge.
“Seraphina, I want you so badly. I want you so much I can hardly stand it. But we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. Last night was… emotions were high. I don’t hold you to anything. There is no expectation here.” His hand was firm but gentle. And I knew he meant what he said, even if it would have killed him. He didn’t expect anything from me.
But after everything that had happened at the masquerade. And everything after that. There was nothing left of my old life. Nothing to return to. And nothing but possibility here. I was under no illusions. The gun that Seff had pointed at Ciaran—the bullet that had come so close to shattering his heart—had destroyed any illusions I had left. I wanted to be here now. I wantedhim.
“I’ve made my choice.” I twined my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to mine.
With a strangled sound that was almost a sob, Ciaran’s lips crashed into mine, insistent and demanding. I opened my mouth to him as his tongue swept in, meeting mine, colliding with all that pent-up lust from the night before. His hands wrapped around my waist, sliding down to grip my ass, as I rose up on my tiptoes. My arms looped around his neck, my hands grappling in the short hair at his nape. I was trying to pull him closer—it would never be close enough. Not until I could feel him inside me.
Ciaran guided one of my legs up to wrap around his waist, never breaking away from the frenzied kiss. It was lucky I had years of ballet training to assist me, because he was so much taller. I was up on the very tips of my toes to get even close to his hips. His hand slid down the back of my other leg, catching me behind my knee as he picked me up off the ground. My legs wrapped around Ciaran’s waist as he walked us toward the door. His mouth never left mine, and my back slammed into the closeddoor; my attention turned from his mouth to the hard length of him pressing between my thighs.
We both pulled away, and Ciaran’s eyes met mine as he wordlessly opened the door. I slid down his front, the friction setting me on fire, as I stepped into the bedroom.
It wasn’t fully furnished or decorated yet, but the bedroom, like the main living room, had floor-to-ceiling windows carved into the bare rock of the wall. Daylight streamed in, illuminating the enormous four-poster bed along the back wall of the room. It was covered in plush grey linens, crisp white sheets. Airy gossamer curtains lined the sides. This was what Ciaran had meant when he said I deserved more than the threadbare bed at that tavern. This was a bed fit for royalty.
“I don’t understand,” I said, looking around the room, “why we’ve been in that tiny apartment when this was here.” My breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, every sense heightened, every part of me electrified.
Ciaran stood behind me, leaning in close to kiss down the side of my neck, one hand resting gently around my throat, the other sliding down the front of my body. “Do you want to talk about it now? Or…” He undid the buttons of my shirt, his hand slipping beneath it while his teeth grazed over the spot where my neck met my shoulders. I gasped as his callouses scraped over my peaked nipple.
“Um… we can talk later…” I leaned back into the warmth of him, surrendering to his touch. To the feel of him. I had wanted to feel that warmth against me for so long. Had wanted to steal it for myself. So I let myself bask in it, shrugging out of my unbuttoned shirt as Ciaran’s hands roved over my breasts. The sensation sent shivers over me, straight down to the ache between my legs. I was already wet, but Ciaran was not done teasing. He was going to take his time today—possibly every day.
“Ciaran,” I moaned as one of Ciaran’s roaming hands circled my nipple in lazy strokes, while the other slid over my stomach, dangerously close to the waistband of my pants. I ground my backside into him, feeling just how much he wanted me too. “Please.” He kissed his way up my neck, breathing into my ear.
“Please what, love?” he whispered. His breath in my ear sent goosebumps over my skin, my breasts tightening to the point of pain. He wanted me to beg.
“Please touch me.” I tried to wiggle to maneuver his hand down further, but he just turned me in his arms to face him, leading me backwards toward the bed. Every kiss he pressed to my lips had my need for him growing. The backs of my legs bumped into the bed and I leaned back into it, sinking into the plush surface.
Ciaran followed, bracing himself on his forearms over top of me. He was still fully clothed—this needed to be remedied immediately. I pulled his black shirt over his head, revealing his muscled torso. His skin gleamed golden in the rare daylight from the windows. I took a moment to run my fingers over the scars that swirled down the side of his neck, following them down that golden chest.
“Gorgeous,” I breathed, fingers still tracing the raised lines of the scars. They were even more beautiful in the natural light—each one telling a story of his bravery. Of his strength. Ciaran groaned at the light contact of my fingers on his skin and brought his lips back to my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist again, hauling his lower body to connect with mine. Through our clothes the friction was not nearly enough, but I moved on him anyway, writhing against his length, desperate to feel every inch of him.
Our kisses were chaotic, and I could feel that Ciaran’s resolve to drag this out was disappearing.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, Seraphina.” His voice was a moan. “Longer than you can possibly imagine.” He was losing grip on the restraint that I had long since discarded, as his teeth closed over my bottom lip, sucking lightly. He released my swollen mouth and moved down my neck, kissing over my breasts, taking the peaked nipple between his teeth and repeating the same process that he had done with my lip. It sent shockwaves straight to my core. My mind emptied out as he continued to give my breasts the full attention of his mouth, while sliding a hand beneath the waistband of my pants, finally.
“I don’t think I can wait much longer. But neither can you, it seems,” he murmured against my breast as his hand found exactly how drenched I was for him. Two fingers slid through the centre of me, pulling up on either side of my clit. He was so close. So close to touching me right where I needed, but he still wouldn’t. I let out a frustrated sigh.
“You’re so greedy.” Ciaran clicked his tongue.
“Please. I can’t.” A guttural moan escaped my mouth, my head falling back against the bed. “You have to touch me.”
Ciaran let out a small chuckle. But then he began to circle, with the same agonizing precision from the night before. With his tongue circling my nipple and his fingers on my clit, I could not hold back the release that gathered in me—the tension spooling tighter and tighter. I was embarrassingly easy. A few strokes and I came so fast, crying out as I arched my back off the bed. But still I wanted more. He was right. I was greedy. I was so fucking greedy when it came to him. I didn’t even know Icouldbe this greedy.
Ciaran huffed a laugh as he withdrew his hand from my pants and watched as I wriggled out of them without an ounce of grace. I moved back, scooting up further onto the bed, breathing ragged and uneven, as I watched him remove his own pants. All rational thoughts left my head as his cock bounced up, freedfrom the confines of his clothes. He was as ready for this as I was. A bead of moisture gleamed at the head.
Ciaran paused, worry flashing in his eyes. “Wait. You’re taking the?—”
“Contraceptive tea. Yes. Elena made me promise to start taking it, weeks ago.” I rolled my eyes, but I was secretly grateful for her meddling in this moment. I wished such a thing was available to women everywhere, though. That non-magic-wielders could have benefited from it as well. But the Church of Scion would have loathed the freedom, choice and agency it gave to women. Gave to all people.
“Thank the Goddess.” Ciaran growled, guttural, as he moved over top of me on the bed. “I need you to say you want this.” He looked right into my eyes as he spoke. He wouldn’t continue unless I said it.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Ciaran, I need this. I need you.” The eye contact at this moment—the point of no return—felt more intimate than anything we’d done already. Ciaran took my enthusiastic yes and moved closer still. His cock was poised right at my entrance, and we both seemed to slow, taking a breath in this moment before things between us changed irrevocably. “Yes,” I murmured again, as Ciaran slowly pushed in.
The feel of him sliding into me was everything—the stretch of him. I had never feltthisfull—it was almost too much. I needed a moment to adjust. He moved so slowly, until he finally bottomed out, our bodies flush. There was no getting closer than this. For a moment, all we did was breathe. The intensity of his eyes on mine, the feel of him inside me, had me gasping for air. But then, he began to move.
“Seraphina. Fuck. You feel incredible,” he said with a growl, as he began to roll his hips in small, rhythmic pulses. The feel of him moving within me was undiluted bliss—the stretch, the fullness, the friction. I raised my own hips to meet his, growingmore confident and comfortable. Ciaran began to move harder, and deeper, as we adjusted to the feel of each other, and I couldn’t help the moans that escaped me.
