He tells me about growing up with three brothers, thechaos, the competition. The way they fought and protected each other.
“Declan broke my nose when I was fourteen,” he says. “I’d ratted him out to Da about sneaking out.”
“Did you regret it?”
“Not even a little. He deserved it.” He grins. “I broke his ribs two years later, so we’re even.”
After dinner, he pulls me to the deck railing. The lake is dark now, stars scattered overhead.
“Come here.”
He kisses me under the stars, his hands on my waist, my hips. The night air is cool, but his touch is warm.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my mouth.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
He carries me to the bedroom and sets me on my feet by the bed.
“We have all weekend. No rush.”
He undresses me with care, his hands tracing my curves, learning me all over again.
“Look at you.”
I shiver under his gaze. Goosebumps spread across my skin.
I reach for his shirt, fumble with the buttons. He helps me strip off his clothes, and the sight of him—all muscle and masculine power—makes my mouth go dry.
“Now who’s staring?” he murmurs, and I catch the ghost of a smile on his lips.
He lays me on the bed.”Fuck, these tits are perfect,” he growls against my skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “All mine to play with. You like that, don’t you? My mouth on you, marking what’s mine.”
“Yes,” I whimper, my fingers threading through his hair. “Cillian, please.”
He lifts his head, eyes dark and commanding. “Please what, wife? Use your words. Tell me what you need.”
“I need…” I swallow, heat flooding my face and between my legs. “Your mouth. Everywhere.”
A wicked grin spreads across his face. “Good girl. Spread those legs for me.”
His hands trail down my sides, over my ribs, my stomach, gripping my hips as he settles between my thighs. He hooks his fingers into my panties and drags them down slowly, inch by inch, exposing me to the cool air. I feel the wetness there, slick and ready, and his gaze locks on me like he’s starving.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “So fucking wet for me already. This pretty little cunt is dripping just from my kisses. You want my tongue here, don’t you? You want me to eat this sweet pussy until you scream?”
My core clenches at his filthy words, emptiness aching inside me. “Yes. God, yes.”
He doesn’t make me wait. His broad shoulders force my thighs wider, and he blows a cool breath over my folds, making me jolt. Then his mouth descends. His tongue flattens against me, licking a long, slow path from my entrance to my clit. I cry out, hips bucking, but his strong hands pin me down.
“Stay still,” he orders, the vibration of his voice against my sensitive skin making me shudder. “Let me taste you. Every drop.”
He dives in like a man possessed, lips sealing around my clit and sucking with just the right pressure. Pleasure explodes through me. His tongue flicks relentlessly, circling the swollen nub before dipping lower to thrust inside me.He fucks me with his tongue until stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Oh, Cillian,” I moan, my hands fisting the sheets. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”
He groans into me, the sound sending fresh waves of heat coiling tight in my belly. One hand slides up my thigh, fingers spreading my folds wider for his assault. His mouth works me over—sucking, licking, nipping—while his free hand pinches my nipple, rolling it between his fingers. The dual sensations overwhelm me, pushing me higher.
