Page 25 of Irish Daddies
I groan as his tongue circles my nipple, and I gasp, “Please, just fuck me.”
He shakes his head against my breast, holding my wrist tightly and making sure my fingers continue to plunge into my slick cunt. “No, Caroline, I can’t. You know I can’t. You only want me to because of how sensitive your nipples are. I remember. If you show me how badly you want it, I’ll taste you, how about that?”
Whimpering, I keep finger-fucking myself and moving my hips against him, trying to grind against his cock even through all the fabric. He murmurs, “If you hump my leg until you come, I’ll clean you all the way up.” With shame and heat in my cheeks, I do as I’m told, humping his leg and leaving a trail of my thick juices across his pants.
My orgasm approaches like a hard-earned thing, and he grips the back of my head to kiss me fiercely as I feel it ripping through me. My walls throb, and I squeeze his leg with my thighs, gripping onto his shirt like a lifeboat. Gasping for air, I relax against him, and he kisses me lightly, the bow on a present.
He presses against my shoulders so that I lie back and murmurs, “Good. Now you’ve earned this.” His face disappears underneath the blanket, and it’s a strange sensation, having him between mylegs again. I close my eyes, breathing through the feeling of the memory, of what happened after the last time he lapped at my slit this way.
His tongue is flat, and he runs it across the warm, red skin of my lips before moving into me and scooping up my cream with his tongue.
My breathing slows as he cleans me up, and I have the realization that for the first time in years, with Kellan, I’ve come without thinking of violence.
16
KELLAN
The sun hasn’t risen yet.The hotel room is gray and blue with pre-dawn light, the kind that makes everything feel softer than it is. Caroline is still asleep, her cheek crushed against my naked chest. Her eyes move gently beneath her eyelids, her dreams in technicolor behind them.
A small sliver of drool falls out the corner of her mouth into my chest hair, and I can’t fight the urge to stroke her face. I feel the heat of sleep on her skin and push her matted hair behind her ear, letting my fingers trace her lobe and her jaw.
Her eyes flutter softly, and she looks up at me with, for a moment, what looks like genuine affection. And then something else passes over her face—a realization, memory. She pulls away from me, her skin pulling off me like I’m a leather seat in the sun, and slips out from under the blanket. For just a second, I get a glimpse of her body again, though I try not to stare.
She’s pale, like she’s never been in the sun, and her golden hair cascades down her back. Her breasts and ass are bigger than they look in the baggy clothes she normally wears, her waist smaller and her nipples alert and peachy. Her clit is bigger thanmost I’ve seen, and sensitive. I think of the way she cooed when I patted it, and I swallow as I force my gaze to stay on the wall opposite me.
“Caroline,” I say hoarsely, clearing my throat. But she walks quickly across the room and is in the bathroom before I can finish the thought. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway.
When she comes back out fully dressed, the air feels different. Heavier, quieter. She doesn’t say a word to me. She packs things into the suitcase and throws the used linens into a corner. A strange expression tugs at her lips, like she doesn’t know if she should feel ashamed or victorious.
I help her, gathering towels and blankets, and our fingers graze each other when I throw a sample of soap into the suitcase. I look up at her to see if she feels the same spark that I do when we touch, but she doesn’t meet my gaze. I see her inhale sharply, see it in her moving chest, and she pulls her hand back to comb through her wet hair. The motion pulls her shirt up high enough to show me the bottom of her stomach and her waist, and I think of the soft skin there, the way I can graze her bush from there. Her wrists are red from wearing the cuffs for so long.
I want to say something, but the words are all too dangerous.
A knock comes. Two short taps. Declan or Rian.
“Time to go,” Rian calls, and I open the door to see him already dressed, already on. He raises an eyebrow at me, then glances at Caroline, lingering half a second too long. “You packed?”
“Almost,” I say. My voice sounds like gravel.
He doesn’t press, but I can feel his curiosity radiating off him in waves. Rian sees too much. He reads people like dossiers.Caroline brushes past me, dragging the bag behind her. She doesn’t make eye contact with either of us.
Downstairs, Declan is already pacing outside the black SUV. The engine’s running. He doesn’t say anything when he sees us, just opens the rear door and nods toward the seat. Caroline hesitates half a second. Then she climbs in without a word.
“Jet’s waiting,” he mutters.
I throw the last bag in the back and sit beside her. The energy radiating off her thighs seems visible to me. I worry everyone can see it. Rian slides into the passenger seat as Declan gets into the driver’s.
Rian twists around to face both of us. “You two sleep okay?” he asks casually.
A small scoff, and Caroline picks at her nails before bringing her thumbnail to her mouth. Her teeth chew around it like it’s a corn cob. “Some,” she replies quietly.
Rian nods slowly, like he’s storing the sound of her voice, looking for cracks. “Long drive ahead. Maybe you’ll sleep through it.”
She doesn’t respond.
The car pulls onto the highway, and I keep my eyes on the road outside the window, though all I can think about is the shape of her shoulder in the moonlight. The soft inhale of breath when my fingers grazed her thigh. The way she didn’t flinch, the way sheaskedfor me. Wanted me, even in the face of all this.
She isn’t looking at me now. I tell myself that’s a good thing.
