“Ball’s in your court. I’d love nothing more than to watch ye ride my cock like you wanted.”
I grab his shoulders and use them for leverage as I do exactly what he said.
I ride him.
Slowly at first. It’s awkward and clumsy.
I’m practiced at seduction. It’s an art I’ve perfected. But this, I’m a brand-new student. I’ve always been the one being fucked, the few times that it happened.
Now I’m fucking him.
And it feels good. The harder I go at him, the more he groans, and the better it feels for me too.
There’s a reflection of us in the mirror across the room. My smaller body mounted on his massive frame that extends beyond the chair. His legs spread wide and his hands on the back of my heels, holding me in place.
He’s watching us too, in the reflection. And his eyes are on me. Only me.
He pulls on my hair and forces me to arch my back so he can taste my nipples again.
At some point, one of his hands moves between my thighs again. And I come for him, again. It’s not any less violent and Rory can’t fucking stand it.
He grabs my hips and stills me, holding me in place as he thrusts up from below, as deep as he can get. His head tips back and his lips part and he empties himself with a deep groan.
His warmth spreads inside of me. Filling me up.
And I like it. I like to imagine that warmth destroying all the bad of my past. Obliterating any other who has been inside of me this way.
Neither of us moves, even as he softens inside of me.
Rory kisses me again, and then eventually carries me to the bed. I’m too tired to fight it, but then he spoons me.
“What are you doing?”
“Cuddling,” he murmurs into my back.
“But… that’s…”
Words have literally failed me.
I feel his smile against my skin. “Get used to it, sweetheart,” he says. “Ye’re going to get a whole lot weirder with me.”
Fifteen
Rory
She triesto sneak off on me in the morning, so I grab her by the wrist and yank her back into bed, trapping her with my arm.
“Uggg,” she groans. “Get off me. I’ve had about enough of this cuddling bullshit.”
I kiss her throat, and she softens against me.
“How do ye take your eggs?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and then, “what the hell kind of question is that?”
“Seems like the sort of thing ye should ask a woman the morning after. Before ye have another go at her.”
“Gee, you’re so thoughtful,” she muses. “Asking how I take my eggs while you’re still covered in Ethan’s blood.”
