Ronan
Ismile and shepherd our few guests out the door and then shut it, leaning on it to watch my new wife. She’s looking out the window and the sun is gleaming on her, outlining her curves in the light dress. My heartbeat speeds, jumping into my throat. I roll my hips, attempting to move my aching dick which is thrust up against my zipper like it’s slammed into a wall.
I groan and shift, stalking across the large room. The mountain view outside my windows is breathtaking but not nearly as much as she is.
“Kat?” I whisper, standing behind her, my hands drifting to her shoulders. I lean over. She’s so damn tiny. Barely up to the middle of my chest. One hand drifts down to run along the wide curve of her hip, dragging at the silky fabric, pulling it up one inch at a time. Her breath stutters and then she gasps when my warm hand caresses her bare thigh.
My lips skate along her throat, my hand on her shoulder lifting until I’m grasping the front of the delicate column, tilting it to allow my hungry mouth access to her skin. I moan when she huffs out a strangled breath.
My hand skims around to her belly, plucking at the elastic of her panties.
“Ronan?”
“Yeah, baby? What do you need, little one?” If she needs time, I swear to god, I’ll lose my mind and my dick might fall off from the case of blue balls she’s giving me. But I will not pressure her. She’s worth it all. Every last sleepless night I might have.
Her palm lifts to the glass in front of her and she balances, leaning into my backside, thrusting gently against my aching rod. My eyes roll back in my head, it feels so damn good.
Her eyes meet mine in the glass and I can see the hunger burning in her dazzling emerald eyes. Her parted lips and flushed cheeks. The panted breaths fogging the glass.
Lord, she’s a sight to haunt any man’s dreams. And she’s mine. My name is on her now. And nobody is gonna fucking take her away from me. Not if they value their life.
Touch her and I’ll kill you. Without blinking.
“I want you, Ronan,” she whimpers, her throat tilting back when I scrape my teeth along it.
“Thank fuck,” I growl and slam up against her, pushing her into the glass. My hands lift hers as high as she can reach on the glass. “Keep your hands right there, Kat. Don’t move.”
I lift her skirt, pawing at it like a damn crazy man. I can smell the scent of her lust now. Taunting me, dragging at me until I’m so damn hungry I’m barely human.
I rip the panties off and pull her feet back, my eyes catching on the ribbons on her ankles. I would give anything to see her ankles wrapped up, tied to my bedposts while I fuck the hell out of her and she can’t move away from my foraging tongue and desperate dick.
But that’s for another time. This time needs to be for her. All for her. Because it sounds like the other asshole who hurt her didn’t take the time to make her as happy and satisfied as she could be. That’s fucking criminal as far as I’m concerned. All that sweet nectar and those fucking legs and he just bypassed it to get his own rocks off? Who does that?
A selfish man that’s who. I am not that. And by the time I’m done with her, she’s going to be screaming my name until she collapses, spent, shaking and so very damn happy.
I run my tongue up her quivering thighs, forcing her legs open further. Until I can touch my tongue to her juicy center, part her lips and dive in like a bear after honey. Licking up and down, I drag my tongue through her puffy folds until she whimpers and her legs try to close. But I don’t let her.
“NO!” I growl. “You let me do this for you, baby girl. I promise you won’t regret it.”
She settles under my hands and her soft moans and sighs kick up, the volume intensifying until she’s screaming and her juices are running down my chin while I drink every bit of her I can. Her muscles clamp around the root of my tongue and I feel the first little flutterings that tell me she’s close. Slowly, gently, I push one finger inside her velvety walls and curl it until I’m running it along her sweet spot.
“Ronan!” she screams, her thighs closing around my head until I can barely hear her moans and cries. Her legs shudder and she lets loose, the wild fluttering and pulsing dragging at my finger and tongue, pulling me deeper. I lick and suck at her, not able to get enough of her taste. Like ambrosia in my mouth.
She collapses into the glass and her body almost falls into a heap. I hold her up while I climb out from under her skirts. Licking my lips, I pull her up and toss her over my shoulder.
“I want a helluva lot more than that, baby girl. We’re not done yet.”
Stalking up the stairs I slam the door open, raising my brow when I see what looks like a tornado came through the room. When I throw her on the bed, she’s flushed and her eyes won’t meet mine.
“I’m sorry about the mess. I didn’t want you to have to wait on me.”
I pull her chin around and force her eyes to mine. “The mess doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. I’d rather you come to me than make me wait any day of the week. Because it’s torture waiting for you to come to me. I feel like I’m on fire and you’re the only thing that will quench my thirst.”
Her eyes are wide, the pupils so dilated it looks like she’s on drugs. But the only drug either of us will ever need is each other. I turn her over in the bed, crawling up her body, straddling her so that I can undo the zipper, peeling it down a slow, painful inch at a time. Each piece of her skin that’s revealed is lavished with kisses, touches, until she’s writhing under me, her face buried in the mattress, her moans muffled and tortured.
“Oh god,” she whines. “What are you doing to me?”
My lips tease along the curve of her spine. “Hopefully torturing you as much as you torture me. Fuck, do I need you!”