The contrast between them was stark—she, fully nude and he, fully clothed, his manhood straining obscenely against his trews. Her blush darkened at the sight of them like this, but she couldn’t deny there was something incredibly erotic about it—something that sent a pulse of need through her, her core clenching in anticipation.
Lydia watched as Kieran’s hand trailed down her body—over the swell of her breast, stopping there to circle her nipple, then down her chest and stomach until it finally found the thatch of curls between her thighs. Without wasting another moment, he began to tease her, his touch feather light as he pressed against her sensitive spot, chuckling softly when he reached even lower.
“Ye’re soaked,” he growled into her ear, and Lydia, much to her embarrassment, couldn’t help but moan. “Och, I like that… I cannae wait to be inside ye.”
“What are ye waitin’ for, then?” Lydia gasped, too eager for her own good. She met Kieran’s gaze in the looking glass, his eyes dark, full of mischief. The light carved shadows across his handsome face, making him seem even more severe than usual, and the sight of him like this sent a thrill through her.
With a soft sigh, he pressed himself against her, his manhood digging into her rear. “Is this what ye want?” he asked, his voice low and honeyed, and Lydia nodded frantically. “Come, then. Take it.”
She hesitated for a moment; she couldn’t help it. She had thought Kieran would simply give her what she craved, but then she hesitantly turned around and reached for him, pressing that flat of his palm over the bulge in his trews. Kieran groaned, the sound reverberating through her when he pulled her into a kiss, his hips canting up to meet her touch.
Kieran’s hand tangled in Lydia’s hair as he kissed her again, his lips hot and insistent against her own. He licked into her mouth with abandon as he reached into his trews with his free hand and removed himself from the confines, his manhood straining up against his stomach. When Lydia touched him, wrapping her fingers around his length to give him a slow pump, Kieran shivered against her, chuckling softly against her lips.
For a moment, he pulled back to watch her as she pleasured him, his gaze pinned to her fingers as they slid over his member. Kieran was hot in her hand, his skin silky-smooth, the slide of her fist aided by the moisture gathering at the tip. When shebrushed her thumb against it, Kieran’s hips bucked as he chased his pleasure, thrusting into her grip.
After a few pumps, though, he seemed to get impatient, his need getting the better of him. He spun Lydia around once more, pulling her flush against his body, his hand finding her entrance and teasing her folds, coaxing more wetness out of her.
“Tell me how much ye want it,” he said.
Lydia’s cheeks heated once more, her embarrassment making it difficult for her to speak a single word. Kieran, though, was insistent; he wasn’t going to let her get away with it so easily.
“Tell me,” he said, two fingers suddenly plunging inside her, her body parting with ease to accommodate the stretch. “I want ye to ask for it.”
Lydia gathered all the courage she had left though she didn’t meet Kieran’s gaze in the mirror, her gaze instead glued to the spot where his fingers disappeared inside her.
“Please,” she gasped. “Please, Kieran, I want it.”
That was enough for Kieran, it seemed. He wasted no time before he replaced his fingers with his manhood, entering her in one, smooth thrust, and Lydia’s hands reached out for anything she could hold onto, anything that would keep her upright—only to find air. Only Kieran’s strong arms were holding her up as he began to move, each thrust more pleasurable than the last.
He moved leisurely, without hurry, pushing deep inside her and filing her to the brim. The slide of his manhood against her walls drove her mad with need, all the teasing building up the sensations in her body. She had missed this dearly; she had missed feeling this close to him, as if the two of them were entwined into one, as if there was no end and start to them.
Now, she finally felt whole again. All this time, it was as if a piece of her had been missing, as if she was seeking something she couldn’t find, but now, she knew what it was. She couldn’t bear to be apart from Kieran anymore; she couldn’t spend another day away from his touch, from his kisses, from everything she so desperately craved.
Strong hands gripped her hips as Kieran picked up the pace, his hips slamming into her own with every thrust. Lydia bent forward, bracing herself on the very edge of a nearby table, taking everything Kieran was giving her. The sensations were almost overwhelming, her pleasure so strong, so insistent, that it threatened to overtake her, her mind going blank as she stared at their reflection in the looking glass. Above her, Kieran was like a man possessed, a man with a singular focus—to make her fall apart with pleasure. His gaze was always on her—on the way her breasts swung with every thrust of his hips, her nipples hardened with need, on the curve of her rear, the dip of her waist. He seemed almost feral to her, his eyes blazing with need, and yet his hands were gentle, even as he held her in a secure grip.
That was one of the things that had struck her the most the first time they had lain together, and it did now, too. No matter what, he was always gentle with her, even in the throes of passion.
Lydia’s pleasure grew, tension building inside her, deep in her core, until she couldn’t take it anymore. Her orgasm was ripped out of her, a moan tumbling past her lips as she clenched rhythmically around Kieran, her body and her mind lost in the heights of pleasure. Her walls pulsed, her entire body shaking with ecstasy as Kieran worked her through the aftershocks and chased his own pleasure, the sound of their coupling loud in the quiet of the room. The only thing that accompanied it were Lydia’s soft moans and Kieran’s grunts as he got closer and closer to the edge, until he finally reached his own zenith, spilling hot, deep inside Lydia.
Afterwards, they took a few moments to catch their breaths, both of them panting heavily. Then, Kieran took Lydia’s hand and led her to the bed, gently laying her down on the mattress before he joined her.
They lay down together under the covers, their bodies fitting easily, naturally, like something long denied but never forgotten. He wrapped an arm around her, careful of her comfort, and she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
For a long while, they simply breathed together.
“I used to be afraid of the night,” Lydia admitted softly. “After everythin’, I thought it would always bring fear with it.”
“And now?” Kieran asked.
She tilted her head to look up at him. “Now, it feels like I can rest.”
He bent to press a kiss to her hair, lingering there. “I’ll spend the rest of me life makin’ sure it stays that way.”
Their kisses were unhurried, tender, full of shared love and promise. There was laughter, quiet, a little shaky, when they bumped foreheads, and a softness to everything they did, as if both of them understood how fragile happiness could be and how precious.
Eventually, the fire burned down to embers.
Lydia curled closer, her hand settling over his heart once more. He covered it with his own, holding her there, anchoring them both.
