Page 21 of King of the Cage

Tonight, just for one night, I was going to do what I wanted, consequences be damned. I was a full-grown, red-blooded woman, and if I wanted to fuck an off-limits, sinfully hot Irishman in my very own bathroom, I was going to damn well do it.

“So, I suppose youdoknow how to do what you’re told now and again,” he murmured, lifting an eyebrow and jesting with a dark edge.

I swallowed the thick knot of lust and tension in my throat. “Not really, but there’s a first time for everything.”

“I’m honored to be your first, in that case.” He leaned in and licked a hot stripe up my inner thigh. “I’ll be the first, and the last man to give you commands from now on.”

I wanted his mouth on my pussy; I might die if I didn’t have it, and the fucker knew it. He was teasing me, and it was working.

My titter turned into a gasp as his hot breath hit my slit. He was so damn close, but not touching me, just making me wait.

“Is that right? What makes you think you’ll have another chance after tonight?” I arched an eyebrow back at him in the mirror.

He smirked and went back to studying my pussy, spread wide open for him. I stiffened, heat flooding through me with a sharp edge of embarrassment. Getting eaten out wasn’t something Idid often. It was far too vulnerable a position to be in, and he was really drawing it out, forcing me to ride the line between lust and discomfort.

“Who says you’ll have any say in the matter?” Bran murmured, his breath hot against my thighs.

I gritted my teeth and bore the discomfort, waiting for him to touch me, or stand and fuck me. Waiting for something. Anything.

“Well? You want a fucking picture?” I demanded, my shame getting the best of me.

He laughed. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

His thick finger worked up my wet slit and dipped inside, before continuing even farther and circling my ass. I shivered.

“No, a picture isn’t good enough,” he said. “I want a fucking portrait of this sight. Painted in oils, rendered by yours truly, captured over the course of weeks… months, maybe.”

His possessive words sent heat through me.

“Whatever. It’s time to put up or shut up, O’Connor, before I get bored—” I’d barely finished speaking when his finger pinched my ass cheek, hard.

“Settle down, wee one, and keep being a good girl for me,” he growled against my skin.

I jerked, so shocked and outraged I could hardly speak. I opened my mouth to protest, but then his tongue landed on my slit, thick and wet, turning my protests to gasps.

“Look how perfect you are.”

His hands urged my legs farther apart so he could get closer, and his tongue flicked my clit. I was so turned on my knees went weak. Holding onto the counter to stay up, I tried to keep calm as his furious tongue buried inside my folds and rubbed hot circles on my clit. One of his big hands slid upward and dipped between my legs. A thick finger pushed inside me. God, everything about this man was big and calloused and rigid. His tongue worked me and gave me no mercy, his finger pumping ruthlessly inside me. I couldn’t think about anything but holding myself up. The world narrowed down to pleasure, cold tiles, and Bran’s hot breath.

I stopped being myself. I had no control. I was someone else.

His tongue left me. “You like that, Giada? Listen to you purring like a little kitten,” he murmured.

I clamped my mouth shut, only just realizing how I’d been moaning and panting.

“Fuck you, O’Connor.” I tried to wrestle back a shred of dignity.

“Oh, you will,” he said arrogantly, and then dived back in.

I screamed.

I was so close. I was going to come from being eaten out for the first time in my life. I’d never managed it before. I’d always been too tense. Too unsatisfied with how the man was touching me. Always needing more of something, or less of something else. Always too in my head about the smell and taste to truly relax.

Now, all those thoughts were gone. I couldn’t have cared about them if I tried. I was going to come, and there was no way to stop it. There was no way to stophim. There was something liberating about that thought.

I barreled toward the feeling, out of control but not afraid, for the first time that I could remember.

Then, a loud knock sounded at the door, echoing down the hall.

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