Page 46 of Cillian

“Why? What happened?”

“It doesn't matter. I just…I just want to go someplace else.” The moment we are out of the store I released a sigh of relief. I wasn't going to let this test me, and I wasn't going to let this ruin what was supposed to be a good day.

He took me back to the car and attempted to help strap me in, which was thwarted by me climbing into his lap, as I leaned in and kissed him. I was grateful to have a man who worshipped me so I didn't have to be a bitter, desperate homemaker fishing for trade secrets on how to keep my husband from wandering. Unsurprisingly, he kissed me, back showing me nothing but warm, undying affection.

Hey, what’r you doing? I thought we were supposed to be getting some clothes.”

“We are. I just wanted a reminder of how lucky I am,” I said as his hands caressed my backside and a dopey grin lit up his face.

“And everything's alright? Cause I mean, we left the store pretty quickly, and I didn't even get to see you try anything on.”

“I know… it's just…I don't think they're good quality. Is there anywhere else we could go?” I questioned, thinking that we should have just gone to the Black part of town.

“I mean, the only place that comes to mind is my sister’s shop. But I fear it's so small it won't have the selection a department store has but she makes custom orders, too.”

His sister's shop didn't sound like a bad idea, at least she was family. I had met all the Sullivan brothers, but his sister came around the least, likely because she didn't involve herself in the family business. I couldn’t imagine how to picture a female Sullivan but this was the chance to meet her. Besides, there were some things I wanted to discuss with her as a woman. And I knew that I if I went to his brothers about it first, it would take too long to get things in the working.

“I'll go to your sister’s shop.”

“You will?” I nodded cheerfully, climbing back over to my seat as he started the car. When we arrived at his sister’s shop, it was in the sleepier part of town but still overwhelmingly Irish or their descendants. The bells at the door chimed as we stepped inside, and a woman I suspected was his sister sat on a stool adjusting the hems on a dress, her mouth full of pins.

She shared the same dangerously sharp blue eyes, but her hair was dark like Bellamy's. The smug look on her face made me think of Paddy and she was tall for a woman. That made me think of Tadhg. When she noticed us, she stood and walked over, her outfit a touch of masculine elegance.

“Well, isn't this a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you.” The two embraced, then collectively turned to me, and I'll admit her stare was just as intimidating as Cillian’s could be.

“No need to introduce yourself, hon. I know all about you. Queenie, right? I'm Órfhlaith,” she said with an outstretched hand.

“Pretty girl, you are. What brings you in here?” Cillian stepped in, which gave me a chance to look around a bit more. It wasn't as small as he made it out to be, more like quaint. The options she had were nice but the best part was the peaceful experience. No one following me around, no one accusing me of working here. I could see myself leaving with a bunch of dresses from here.

“Yeah, next time you pick out a dress from my wife, I want to see it first. Almost had a fit when she tried it on,” Cillian said as I walked back into their conversation.

“Cilly, that's the problem with you men. You have a pretty girl and you don't want to show her off. Don't listen to my brother. Even for the youngest, he can be a bloody Neanderthal,” she joked.

“As you can see, it's we slow here. So, you'll have the shop to yourself without having to wait for fitting room.” The more she spoke, the easier it was to feel Cillian’s kindness in her. I wonder what it was like growing up with four brothers. I had two but at least I had two sisters to balance it out.

“If you need any help, lass, just give me a holler,” she said in a thick creamy accent, but Cillian was quick to insist that he’d be the only help I’d need. They had this little banter thing going on. I wonder if it was the same with the rest of her brothers. I took my time taking in the modest displays and exploring her limited collections. Before I knew it, I had ten dresses in my hand, modeling each one for Cillian as he joined me in the dressing room.

“Which ones do you like, Queenie?” I shrugged, looking between the six I'd already tried on so far.

“I don't know. I kind of liked them all.” I knew I didn't need them all but, they were all so nice, and it was soothing shopping at a place I felt more comfortable at. Before I could wiggle in to dress seven, Cillian signaled me over to the lounge where he sat, his hands brushing along my stocking covered thighs.

“Mmm. All the dresses so far did look really sexy on you. But every time you switch out to just your bra and knickers, my cock twitches in my pants just to feel you.” His gentle touch found its way to my sex, applying the perfect pressure to leave me squirming even through my panties.

“Maybe it's not such a good idea to fool around in your sister’s shop dressing room.” He drew me in closer, coaxing me with that drunken lust stare that I used to find scary. A smirk spread across his mouth at the presence of my weakness. And as much as I hated being so powerless, even something simple felt so good in his hands.

“She said it herself, it’s slow up there. You're here, and I'm here. But where I want to be is…” He lowered to the floor on his knees and pressed a soft kiss to my lace panties. “There. Órfhlaith won't even know if we're quiet and quick. Don't you want to be my good girl?” He said planting another kiss on my pussy.

I nodded, even though my words should have said no. The sight of him pulling my panties down made me so dripping wet. No regular good girl would find herself doing this in a restricted place, but his good girl was a whole different breed. I attempted to deny him his plans to take my off my underwear, mouthing the words “No…we can’t,” and in true Cillian fashion, he whispered “Yes, we can.”

His full lips rewarded the hood of my pussy with a sweet kiss, and then gifted me with a second but this time with a swipe of his tongue. He forced me open, his mouth teasing my clit free with the gentleness of his sucking. I gave in letting him lift my thigh onto his shoulder to gain better access, as I looked down to him, the sight of him on his knees licking me, tasting me, needing me, had me covering my mouth to stifle my moans.

His sister on the other side of that door would be so humiliating, but the thought of getting caught trumped the shame behind it. Before I knew it, I was grinding my sex into his mouth, eager to give into the climax and leave him covered in my essence.

“Mmm...” I moaned under a muffle, as I rode his face to the path of ecstasy, sprinting to absolute bliss. I raked my fingers through his hair, toying with the neat style of his slicked back hair cut, unable to help that I needed something to hold on to as this man sucked the living soul out of me.

Being silent, approaching a climax wasn't easy. I really took for granted at how loud I could be at home. I fought back the cry of my orgasm as he licked the remaining traces of my arrival with his tongue, as next he coaxed me down to the floor where he positioned me on all fours. He pulled his pants down, planting a kiss on my rear end before sinking his hard, thick length in measured inches.

“Fuck, Queenie, that pussy feels so good after you’ve come for me. It's going to be so hard keeping quiet,” he whispered, turning my chin to muffle my moans with a kiss. I loved how intimate it was when he faced me. He was always leaning into kiss me or gaze into my eyes. Telling me sweet things. Telling me naughty things. But when he took me from behind it was a whole different breed of man. Rough, possessive and obsessively deviant.

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