Page 26 of Verses Of Us

Ciarán tugged her closer, his hands travelling from her hips to the base of her spine, then up into her hair. His fingers tickled her neck, his free hand drifting to her front, lifting the hem of her shirt. A rogue finger wandered beneath the waistband of her skirt, the heated friction forcing her thighs to clench.

Flushed, her skin burned. Sweat formed on her nape, between her breasts and down below. She was breathless, slightly dizzy, as if drunk. No, make that high. Intoxicated off of nothing but Ciarán’s presence, his masculine scent, his careful touches, his hesitant but needy kisses. Everything he gave made her feel as if she was experiencing something new and unheard of. Something she hadn’t known she was missing.

With Ciarán boxed in between her thighs, separated by nothing but his jeans and her thin panties, she rolled her hips, pressing her core against his rigid length. But her mind strayed, insecurities and doubts rushing in. After all, this wasCiarán Jones’stongue dancing with hers and his thumbs tickling under her shirt. The hands splayed across her lower back and fingers skimming the top of her ass belonged toCiarán Jones.

Then again, she was looking at it all wrong. Ciarán Jones wanted to be withher. The thought added to her arousal. Ciarán shifted, and as if reading her thoughts, he pressed his cheek against hers, his lips to her ear.

“Fuck Lex, you’re so fucking wet for me.”

Shocked by his words, her eyes went wide. No one had spoken to her that way. She’d never heard things like that.

Embarrassment told her to pull away, but he pushed her down harder against his erection, the pressure stabbing at something primal. She sought more.

“Only for you, Ciarán.”

His responding low growl said she was doing this right, kindling her confidence. She pressed down on him again, rubbing herself across his length, watching his eyes squeeze shut.

“Do you like this?” she asked, her voice shaky and tender.

His nostrils flared, and he gripped the back of her neck, forcing their lips to smash together, releasing a muffled ‘yes’ against her mouth.

The solid muscle beneath her palms called out to her. “Take your shirt off.”

He pulled back, his wicked gaze daring. “You do it.”

Excited, she moved her hands further down to the hem, peeling the shirt off and letting it fall to the ground behind the sofa. Her gaze wandered over his body, seeing it with fresh eyes.

This wasn’t in a music video. His body was here, in person, and hers for the taking.

She touched his pecs with a butterfly-soft touch, as if pushing too hard might damage them. Firm beneath her hands, her fingers tingled from the softness of his skin. She thought for sure she might explode from joy and, lured by the prospect of what her tongue might taste as it moved across his collarbone, she let her mouth drift down. Light saltiness and spice tickled her tastebuds, and when Ciarán’s hands slid under her skirt to cup her ass, kneading her flesh without restraint, she moaned loudly, the sound raw.

Fully motivated by this newfound passion, she nipped his skin, coaxing a sharp intake of breath from his mouth. His grip tightened in response, making her sink her fingers into his chest.

Unleashed from her previous concerns, she rubbed harder, a quickening heat pooling between her legs. She recognized the feeling, but had never experienced it with someone. What sometimes happened in the solitude of her bed at night started happening with every stroke of Ciarán’s length against her sensitive middle. Succumbing to her will, she reached below, sliding a hand down his stomach and unbuttoned his pants, consumed by her drive to do more—tobemore.

She shifted, lowering his zipper, wanting to free him from his boxers, but then stopped. Things were moving too fast. She couldn’t rush this and wanted to savour it.

Under the fabric of his underwear, she touched the tip of his penis with her thumb, but couldn’t bring herself to look. A slight shyness held her back, but knowing it was there, knowing what was happening, was more than enough.

Ciarán leaned forward, cradling her in his strong embrace, his lips pressing against her neck. She arched her back, welcoming his kisses, rocking her hips. Wetness touched her fingertips as she stroked the tip of his cock.

“Lex,” he moaned. The heat and honesty in his eyes scorched all her lingering fears. “Kiss me.”

And she did. Their lips connected with fervent intensity, their teeth bumping, their uncoordinated tongues making a wet, hot mess. But neither one of them seemed too concerned about it.

With her hand wedged between her core and his tip, Ciarán’s grip hardened. The sensations inside escalated. She bit back her scream; her thighs desperate to clench together.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, his words pushing her off the precipice. She tumbled all too eagerly into the awaiting pleasure, her only link to the physical world being his arms wrapped around her.

Panting and feeling lighter, Alexis dropped her head onto Ciarán’s shoulder, where he tucked it under his chin. His scent crept into her nose, sending her into a relaxed daze.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” he said.

“Was it?” She felt him nod. The heat in her body was fading, replaced by the awareness of what had happened, what she’d let happen, and though she felt awkward, she didn’t dare move. “Did you… like it?”

“Christ, Lex. Of course, I fuckinglikedit.” She met his eyes, which were filled with concern. “Didn’t you?”

“I did.” Her throat tightened. “And do you…?”

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