Page 117 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“Just knowin’ you’ve got this on,” he explained, his hands cupping each side of my ass. “Gonna make things very uncomfortable for me.”

“Spontaneous hard-ons,” I asked, looking at him over my shoulder.

He ran his thumb down the shadowed crack of my ass.

“You should see the black set,” I teased.

“Can’t believe you’ve been wearin’ underwear that looks like this and I had no fuckin’ clue,” he said with a groan.

I shook my ass a little and let out a gasp when he slapped it.

I was still standing there a little stunned when he rose to his feet and spun me around, his mouth going straight to my nipple and pulling it into his mouth, the bra adding friction to the tug.

His hands spanned my hips as he maneuvered us around the bed, moving between my nipples like he couldn’t decide which one he wanted more. I didn’t care which side he chose, but with every pass there was an excruciating second when he wasn’t touching either of them. With one hand, I tried to keep him in place while I used the other to slide into the front of his boxers, wrapping my fingers around him tightly.

“Turn,” he ordered, pulling my hands away.

I moaned in protest as I spun around, and then I was staring at us in the vanity mirror.

My nipples were cherry red through the light pink mesh, the fabric translucent from the wet. Cian stood behind me, his shoulders shadowing our reflection as he met my eyes. His hands came up to pinch my nipples, and I couldn’t look away as he rolled them through the fabric, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin where my neck met my shoulder.

Leaning my head back against him, I watched, following the movement of his hands as one slid down my belly and into the front of my panties.

“Fuck,” I moaned as his middle finger grazed my clit.

“Slick already,” he praised, his finger circling.

I widened my stance, my hips instinctively following the movement. When he slipped the finger inside me, I arched, trying to get closer as my hand wrapped around his wrist. If he stopped, I was going to lose it.

“That’s right,” he whispered against my neck. “Look at you.”

I whimpered, my free hand moving between us to find his cock again, the elastic of his boxers snapping against my wrist as I shoved my hand inside. The tip of his cock was wet, and I moaned as I wrapped my fingers around him.

“Hands on the table,” he said roughly, letting go of my breast to press gently between my shoulder blades.

I caught myself before tipping forward and met his eyes in the mirror.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

I blushed, and he grinned.

Then his hand slid out of my underwear, and he yanked them halfway down my thighs.

“Leave them,” he ordered, slapping my ass again as I reached to take them off.

He dropped out of my sight, and a second later, his tongue was gliding along the sensitive flesh between my thighs. I was thankful to be holding on when my legs turned to jelly beneath me. My eyes drifted closed and then popped back open when another stinging slap landed on my ass, this one very close to the spot Cian’s mouth had just abandoned.

“Eyes open,” he ordered before his mouth returned.

I mumbled nonsense as he took me to the edge over and over again. First softly and slowly, then roughly and without mercy, then back to slow. By the time he stood behind me again, my eyes were watering, my hairline was damp with sweat, and everyinch of my body felt so sensitive to the touch that I thought I might scream.

I could’ve cried with relief when he finally gripped my hips and pushed slowly inside, the swollen flesh protesting for only a moment before letting him in.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his eyes on me in the mirror.

He pulled back and slid in again slowly. My legs shook.

Then his hands tightened as he slid out again, softly, gently, before thrusting back inside hard. I lost all ability to reason as I came sobbing his name. The orgasm lasted so long that by the time I came back down, Cian’s arm was wrapped across my chest with his hand on my opposite shoulder, holding me up just inches from the vanity top.

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