“Not by much. You have more curves. I like them. Especially these.” He cupped my breasts. “Claire.” He stood behind me, his hard cock pressed against my lower back. “I need to be in you. This still feels too fast but I can’t think of a reason why it can’t be that way.”
“So, do it.” I knew I was dripping for him, aching to be filled and have him thrusting in and out of my pussy, stretching me and emptying himself inside me.
He picked me up and strode to the door into his bedroom, gently putting me down on the bed. “Your head,” he said.
“Is fine. Just let’s keep it gentle this once.”
“Do I need a condom?”
“No,” I said. “I’m on the pill. Still.”
“Good. Shit, Claire, I don’t know how long I’ll last. I need to make you come first”
“In me. I’ll come when you’re in me.”
He moved over me, taking my mouth with his and plundering it sweetly with his tongue. I moved his hips lower and took his cock in my hand, running my fingers up and down it, the feel of silk over steel making my legs widen.
The kiss broke. He looked at me and took his cock away from my hand, guiding it to my my hot centre. I waited for the first frisson of pain, the point when he breached through my tightness and moaned when it happened.
He paused. “I can’t tell you how good you feel. I need to take this slow now, but when you’re better there is so much I want to do to you.”
He pressed in further, balancing on one hand and using the other to flick my clit. Then he was fully in, splitting my body gloriously in two. He moved out slowly, almost all the way and then resumed, his rhythm slow and deep, his fingers magical and it took only a few more thrusts before I broke apart around his cock, my back arching as if I was possessed.
He didn’t drop the tempo. His hand left my clit and went to a nipple, pinching and rubbing at that. I wrapped my legs around his waist, angling my hips so he hit the spot inside me. I knew I could come again, and right now, the chemicals from another orgasm were what I needed.
His words were quiet; he muttered endearments and compliments as he moved inside me, each thrust building another tsunami of pleasure deep inside me.
“I’m going to come again,” I told him, barely able to get the words out.
He chuckled, thrusting a little harder. “I’ll be right behind you. Ladies first.”
I grinned and then felt the clench of an orgasm as it erupted, my pussy walls squeezing his cock tighter and tighter. I heard his name on my lips and then mine on his as his last few thrusts were harder and shorter as his own release came.
We collapsed, him half on top on me, his arms pulling me close. “Tell me I didn’t hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me. My stitches are still in and the only thing throbbing is between my legs,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “My work is done for now. I’ll consider what the payment will be.”
I smacked him lightly. “Payment? You got your reward at the end there. The evidence of which is dampening your sheets.” I wriggled myself out of his hold and sat up. “I should go clean up.”
His eyes looked up sleepily. “I’ll go lock up downstairs. I’ll bring you water. Then I want to fall asleep with you in my bed.”
I nodded. That sounded good to me.
Chapter Sixteen
Killian
Things were different between us in the morning. Claire’s mood flitted between being exorbitantly relaxed and preoccupied and I knew the preoccupation had something to do with what she hadn’t told me about why our relationship had ended years before. It wasn’t going to be a game changer. Whatever had occurred was in the past and that was where it would stay. Last night had felt like coming home, like all the pieces of my world had finally been melded together and this was how the order of things should be.
I knew I loved her. I knew I was in love with her. I thought she felt the same but I would wait for her to be ready to say the words.
The drive to Tintagel took just over four and half hours, most of it via the motorway. Claire deviated between sleeping and watching the scenery out of the window and casting me quick smiles every now and again. The quietness was easy and not loaded with the need for either of us to speak, which was how I remembered us being. She used words well, both in her job and her personal life and although there were times I knew she didn’t shut up, often when she was bantering with me or with her brothers or gossiping with her sisters and friends, she wasn’t afraid to be silent.
“We’re nearly there,” I said as we headed down a single-track road.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the sight of the sea in the distance, blue waves forming white horses at their crests.
