Chapter 35
Electra
Cillian’s breathing changes as he steps into the cradle of my bare thighs. It grows heavier, rougher, gusting away the tension he’s been carrying around since the supermarket.
I’m not convinced by his claim that it has to do with work and not with my suggestion of visiting a tailor. He’s an oddly proud man after all. I say oddly, because, before I got to know him, I didn’t think he had any pride.
Not sure what that suggests about my instincts.
A new theory hits like a ton of bricks: I’d asked him if he’d ever worked in a restaurant. Couldthathave made him feel inadequate?
I try to think of a gentle way to bring it up when he grips my hips and drags me to the edge of the island. I suck in a breath, then another when he presses my thighs farther apart and studies my cunt like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever beheld.
As he stares, he reaches between his own legs, but not to roll his pants down, only to readjust himself. “What I wouldn’t give to take a photo of you sprawled out like this for me. Put it up as my phone’s wallpaper.”
I flush so hard, even my chest turns pink. “Yeah. Not happening, Lowry.”
He raises his gaze to mine, wearing the sort of smile that warns me it might very well happen.
“I’d die of mortification if anyone saw it.”
“If anyone saw it and understood what they were looking at—whothey were looking at, I’d have to kill them. So embarrassment wouldn’t be an issue.”
Except he can’t kill an Atlantean…
He sets his thumb on my clit, rubs it a few marvelous times, before tracing a path to my entrance and kneading the hollow with mounting pressure, like he’s priming it to be stretched.
The kindling heat drops my elbows and arches my spine. As the extraordinary sensation spreads, my lids droop.I love sex.
“I’m so glad you do, because I love having sex with you.” Cillian’s gravelly pitch makes my pussy flutter.
I blink. “I said that out loud?”
“You did.”
I lick my lips, then lick them again.
“I would’ve preferred if you’d addedwith youto your declaration,” he murmurs, without ceasing the gentle eddies.
“Who else am I having sex with?”
A beat of silence bleeds across the room, inviting the earlier tension to flow back in. It doesn’t only land on him this time, though; it also lands on me.
I climb back to my elbows, trying to draw my legs together. An impossible feat, what with his big body in the way. “We’re exclusive, right?”
“Of course we are.” His tone is hard, like the thought that we could not be is offensive. “However selfish this makes me sound, I really hope it’s never as good with anyone else.”
“Planning on dumping me soon, Lowry?”
His head rears back.“What?”
“You said you hoped it would never be as good with anyone else. What am I supposed to make of that?”
“Not that I’d dump you,” he growls.
I purse my mouth. He does too, all the while taking care of me as though we weren’t mid-argument—or whatever the hell this is.
“My mother lost my father early on. You never know when God recalls you.”
