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“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
Warm oil glides across my shoulders as Ciaran works his thumbs into a knot beside my spine. A groan escapes me, my shoulders beginning to relax beneath his hands.
“It’s a rare flower on Sero, because it only blooms after sunset,” he murmurs. “It has silver petals.”
“They sound pretty.”
“They are. Just like you.” His hands slide higher along my neck, working away the last stubborn knots before settling at the base of my skull. Another moan escapes me as my head tips back against his shoulder.
“Feeling better?” He chuckles, and his fingers trace a slow path along my jaw, careful to avoid my bruises, before he brushes a kiss near my ear. “I think it’s time to get you out of this bath, mouse. I can think of a much better use for this.”
After one final peck, he lifts himself out of the bath, sending me a wolfish grin when he tracks my gaze on his body as he reaches for a towel, moving with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he looks like. The bastard is insufferable.
He wraps the towel around himself, then returns with another one, holding out a hand. “Come here.”
He guides me to the edge of the bed, his hand lingering at my back until I sit. Then he lets the towel fall from his waist.
I want him so badly it aches. Not just for tonight. I want every tomorrow, every year, every lifetime he’ll let me have.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, mouse,” he growls. “And then you’re going to sleep like a baby in the bed where you belong. Turn over for me, baby.”
Before I can move, his hand grips the fabric and pulls the towel away, leaving me completely naked. My erection slaps against my stomach in the cool air. Heat floods my face, but Ciaran clicks his tongue, his dark eyes locking onto me.
“Don’t you dare be ashamed when your gorgeous cock is waving at me. On your stomach now, baby.”
I hiss as I turn onto my stomach, the movement tugging painfully at my ribs before I bury my face in the forest-green velvet sheets. The mattress dips as his massive knee plants itself beside my hip, grounding me. He grabs the nightbell oil and dribbles it onto the curve where my lower back meets my ass, making me jump.
“It’s a little cold now, but soon you’ll be warm.”
He splays his fingers across my ass and works the oil in slow circles.
My toes curl against the sheets, and we haven’t even started.
He forces my thighs apart and shifts me forward, then squeezes my ass cheeks and spreads them apart, then pours some more of the oil on my rim.
“Fuck…” The moment his finger slides into my hole, I nearly bounce off the bed. “Good Light, oh—”
“Good, huh?” He inserts a second finger and scissors me open with fast jabs that have my eyes rolling. “And there’s something else I didn’t tell you about the nightbells.”
He lowers his head, his tongue flicking against my crease, loosening the muscle with the combination of his finger as he starts licking my hole.
His tongue never hurries, licking, sucking, and nibbling while the finger inside me curls again. I moan, hips lifting from the sheets as pleasure crashes through me, my body trembling beneath his mouth. My ribs twinge, but I don’t pay them any mind. Nothing could distract me from this moment.
“F-fuck, Good Light, oh...” A moan catches in my throat as my hips twitch against the mattress, the last of my restraint slipping away.
“I’m putting another finger in,” Ciaran growls, his voice rough as his knuckles slide against my skin. “Going to make it nice and wet for my cock, yeah?”
His slick fingers draw another moan from my lips as his knuckles press against that sensitive spot inside me.
“You’re going to break me.” I choke on a moan, my hips lifting from the mattress as his fingers keep finding my prostate, the ache and the pressure battling with pleasure. “But it feels so good.”
“I’m glad you like it, mouse, because my cock is about to wither if it doesn’t get warmed by its favorite hole soon.”
Ciaran works me open a moment longer, then eases his fingers free and guides me onto my hands and knees before stepping around to face me. By the time I lift my head, he’s standing right in front of me with his cock hanging at the level of my mouth. He reaches down, catches my hand, and wraps it around his length, filling my palm.
“Does it feel good in your hand?” Ciaran growls. “Why don’t you put your mouth on it? Swallow it down. Choke on it. Make it all wet and filthy.”
My gaze fixes on his striking dick, thick veins running beneath the skin, the flushed tip already wet with precum. I lick my lips before leaning in to give the head a slow lick.
