"Oh, fuck yeah. You're so fucking beautiful." His praise makes my head spin, makes me feel like I can't fucking breathe. "Fucking hell, it almost hurts to look at you. Nothing in this world should be as stunning as you are, especially right now. Spread wide open on my cock, rubbing that pretty clit. Jesus Christ, you're a vision."
Heat builds in my cunt, the walls beginning to tighten and flex as I get closer. Eamon's completely lost in the pleasure, fucking into me and watching his cock disappear inside me over and over while I rub myself, the high barreling towards me.
"Baby, please," he mumbles, an almost whimper leaking out. I've never thought I would be into begging, but, my god, it makes me shiver, nearly sends me over the edge, "Give me one more. I need it. Need you to fucking come on my dick again. Jesus— fuck, please."
His desperation finally does me in, and I fall apart for a third time, gushing all over him as I furiously rub my clit to keep it going. Coming wrapped around his hard length is so unbelievably fucking good I can't stop, my walls trying to pull him deeper as his thrusts turn sloppy and his breathing devolves into demonic growls and grunts.
Within a few seconds, a loud, primal moan of my name falls from his lips, his fingers flexing roughly where he grips me as he cums inside me, filling me with that warmth, lazily pumping his hips and groaning low in his chest as he pushes through our pleasure until neither of us can take anymore.
With a final kiss on my inner ankle, he releases it, practically collapsing to bring us face to face, a blissed-out smile on his gorgeous lips.
His sleepy, dopy grin is contagious, making me smile, too.
He places a chaste kiss on my lips before easing his dick out of my body, making me hiss.
Before I can say or do anything else, he leans back, kneeling and grabbing my legs, pulling them up and apart, baring me entirely to him.
Nerves and shame at being this exposed bring heat crawling up my spine, and I can feel the deep red blush spreading across my face as I try to force my legs closed.
"Give me a second, baby, I just need to see."
"See what?"
He groans, his jaw-dropping at whatever it is he's looking at before he reaches one finger down, sliding through all the liquid seeping from my opening and pushing it back inside my pussy. "Just need to see how fucking pretty we are together, dripping from your body. Your come and mine, drooling from this sweet little cunt. Fuck, that's gorgeous."
"You're a dirty bastard," I laugh, covering my cheeks and mouth.
He just grins at me, sticking his finger into his mouth with a salacious moan. "We're fucking delicious, too."
He forcefully rolls me to the side, pulling me snuggly against his chest and resting his cheek on my head. "You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" I run my fingers along the light dusting of hair across the forearm, bracketing my chest.
"Your heart is pounding just as hard now as it was a few minutes ago," he lifts himself to look down at me. "What's wrong?"
I don't know how to tell him that his wanting to cuddle me feels more intimate than the actual sex we just had and that it terrifies me more than fucking ever could.
He seems to get it, thankfully, his knowing, sad smile pulling at his lips as he presses them against my temple. "Just breathe, Isla. It doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to."
Once again, he's offering me a kindness I don't deserve.
But just this once, I'll take it.
I should probably be worried about the possibility of a UTI or the fact that I just had totally unprotected sex with someone who's been having sex for probably a century now.Can demons get STIs?
But I can't bring myself to think about anything other than how warm and safe I feel right here, how the sound of his breathing is like a lullaby, or how dizzying his scent is as it cocoons me. His fingers drift lazily through my hair, the sensation both alien and wholly soothing.
Sleep threatens to take me and I'm powerless to fight it, nestled in the safety of Eamon's embrace and the shelter he's created for me. I drift off, blissfully lost in his arms, hoping to convince myself tomorrow that it doesn't mean anything. For tonight, it can just mean that this is where I want to be. My complex about it is tomorrow's problem.
I Don't Fucking Believe You
Eamon
Standing in the kitchen, I can hear the words forming in Isla's head long before she's willing to say them out loud.
She's been building this speech in her mind fordays.Since she spread those pretty legs and let me lose myself between them.
She's thought through every single response I might have. Every reaction, every possible outcome. But, unfortunately for her, she doesn't know that every time she so much as thinks my name, it's all I can hear. She's embedded so deeply inside me, I could probably hear her from the next life.
