Page 23 of Trouble Walked In

In response, he merely kept moving after he gave her a quick smack on the ass, ignoring her disgruntled cry. “This body is mine till morning, cupcake,” he reminded her.

Christ. Everything about this man turned her on. Even that somewhat demeaning slap on the ass, if she was going to be honest with herself. Was that even normal?

Ronan broke into her thoughts when he tossed her on the bed. Before she could even register the quick movement, he was on top of her, his mouth locked on hers. In spite of her confused irritation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sank into the wild kiss.

Slowly, he worked his way down her body, his tongue dragging along the side of her throat. He spent long minutes nipping and sucking at the sensitive bit of skin where her neck and her shoulder met. Her back arched, she moaned his name softly.

When his thigh wedged between hers, she rolled her hips against it, desperate for any friction against her aching sex. Ronan lifted his mouth and said, “Be still.”

“Ronan. Please,” she panted, her hips rocking of their own volition.

“Please, what? Slide my cock inside your needy little cunt?”

“Yes,” she all but shouted, exasperated.

Leaning back, he propped himself up on his elbow. “You might wanna be nice, cupcake. I haven't even decided if I'm going to let you come tonight.”

“Let me?” she asked incredulously. “I don't know if there's gonna be a ‘let me,’ Ronan. At this point, a slight breeze would set me off.”

“Hmm. Let's see about that. Shall we?” He grinned as he worked his way down her body.

Gently, his tongue began to lap at her inner thigh, licking away the moisture. He made soft sounds of pleasure, obviously enjoying the taste of her. He eventually moved on to the lips of her pussy, his tongue every so often slipp

ing between her folds to tease her. Moira silently willed him to stop teasing her. Her thighs were shaking when she finally felt his fingers spread her apart. A gentle stream of warm air rushed against her swollen clit. “Ronan,” she moaned. It wasn't enough sensation to push her over the edge, but it certainly amplified her need.

“Guess you need a little more than a soft breeze,” he said, his breath puffing against her swollen clit. “How about this, love?”

Something in her chest tightened at his use of the endearment. A part of her desperately wanted it to be true. She wanted to be his love. And, as stupid as it was, when he'd told her that her body belonged to him, she wanted it to be so.

The feel of his mouth latching on to her throbbing clit effectively stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She screamed as release tore through her system, the achy tension seeming to go on and on. He continued to gently trace his tongue over her until she shook against him.

She lost track of how many times she came, shuddering against his hand and mouth. Eventually, when her clit was too sensitive to the touch, she begged, “Ronan, please!”

Ronan raised his head up, a hand swiping across his mouth to wipe away the evidence of her arousal. He sat up, resting on his knees, and considered for a moment. His eyes were heavy-lidded when he finally said, “Up. On all fours for me.”

Despite her protesting muscles, she managed to get her body positioned in front of him. She gave a sigh of relief when he pushed down lightly between her shoulder blades. As her upper body came to rest on the mattress, she turned her face to the side. Her cheek was pressed against the comforter, her messy hair partially undone now.

He stroked the hair that had come out of her ponytail holder back, pushing it out of her face. “There's my pretty girl,” he said softly.

Moira felt another lurch somewhere in the vicinity of her heart, but it was quickly forgotten when she felt the head of his cock rubbing against her achy slit. “Inside me, please,” she begged, all at once regretting the position she was in. She had no leverage all, so she was helpless to ease the growing need inside her.

Ronan finally took pity on her and gave her what she wanted. He filled the hollow ache inside her inch by inch until his balls tapped against her. “Oh fuck,” she cried.

“Shit, Moira,” he groaned, pulling back slowly. The movement of his cock slowly dragging along her inner walls was pure heaven. “You're so tight, baby. I don't want to hurt you.”

“You're not going to hurt me. Please. Fuck me like you own me, Ronan!”

He hesitated for a split second before his fingers dug into her hips. He slammed into her, then began to fuck her in quick, short strokes. His pace ramped up until it was almost brutal. “I do, till morning,” he grunted out.

Moira propped the upper half of her body up, wrapping her hands around the headboard, and began to push back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. “Ronan,” she cried as he plunged into her even deeper with this new angle.

He reached forward, grabbing what was left of the bun at the nape of her neck. Jerking it back toward him, he grunted, “Is that what you wanted, baby?”

“Yes,” she panted. “I've been thinking about your cock buried in my pussy since this morning.”

The grip on her hair tightened, causing her to cry out. “Who's pussy?”

“Oh God. It's yours,” she cried out on a jagged breath. The way that he handled her, his rough hands pulling at her hair, it should have been shocking. Instead, it added fuel to the already raging fire inside her. Her whole body shook with unfulfilled need.

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