Page 50 of Yours

I closed my eyes.

I tried to ignore his finger in my bottom, tried to push away the arousal curling deep in my core.

I tried not to think about what it had felt like when he’d first driven that thick digit inside of me, how much it had hurt, how much I’d enjoyed that hurt…

Even now, my asshole still ached as he pumped his finger in and out of me. With every hard thrust, pain radiated up and down my spine, but a deep, dark part of me reveled in it.

It was wrong. It was shameful.

But I wanted it. I wanted more of it.

And the more he made me take, the harder it was to hold back.

My fingers curled against my flesh, the sting of my nails a sharp counterpoint to the ache in my bottom. Every nerve in my bodyseemed to hum with awareness, my skin prickling under his touch, my pussy clenching around empty air. The pleasure was cutting, the pain even more so, and the combination was enough to drive me mad.

“Such a tight little hole. So eager for me,” he purred, and a fresh wave of hot shame crashed over me as I let go of my bare cheeks and gripped at the table instead.

I knew he was doing this on purpose. That he was taunting me, torturing me. But the worst part was that it was working.

Every thrust, every word was pushing me closer to the edge.

It was too much.

It was nowhere near enough.

My breath caught, my chest heaving as he kept pushing, kept fucking me with his fingers. The pressure built, the ache in my core deepening, and I couldn’t hold back the moan that spilled from my lips.

I was so close.

So fucking close.

His fingers moved faster, his grip on my hip tightening, and the pleasure intensified, the ache deepening until I couldn’t breathe.

And then, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he stopped. His fingers stilled, the sudden absence of friction leaving me reeling. The ache in my core throbbed, and I couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped past my lips.

“Ronan,” I gasped, the word trembling on my tongue.

“Look at me, Kiera,” he commanded.

I didn’t want to.

Didn’t want him to see how affected I was, how close I’d been.

But something about his tone made it impossible to resist. Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes, the sight of him sending a shiver down my spine.

His dark gaze locked onto mine, the heat in his eyes palpable, and I swallowed hard, struggling to find my voice.

“Please,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was begging for.

“Please, what?” he asked, his lips curving.

“Please…” I repeated, trailing off as the word caught in my throat.

“Do you want to come, love?” he murmured, his voice dark and wicked.

My cheeks burned, the blush spreading down my neck, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. My chest heaved, the pressure building inside me until I thought I might explode.

“Yes,” I whispered, the admission tearing from me before I could stop it.

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