Rebecca
I’m naked and panting on the couch. My chest heaves, and a sheen of glistening sweat covers my body.
Killian’s fingers are still inside me. He wiggles them, smirking down at me as I gasp, and my hips buck involuntarily.
The pleasure is still rolling through my body. It’s been so long since I’ve had an orgasm that I nearly forgot how fucking good they feel.
Something that I’ve somehow forgotten, until now, is that only Killian has ever made me feel like this. And that smug look on his face seems to say he knows it.
Not wanting the moment—or the heat—to end, I reach for and grab his face with both of my hands, pulling his mouth to mine.
I kiss him passionately, intertwining my tongue with his. He tastes of whiskey, a subtle blend of oak and caramel filling my senses. And I’m in the mood to get drunk on him.
More than that, I just fucking want him.
The memory of the first and last time we slept together—which lay dormant, almost forgotten, for years—now burns brightly and vividly in my mind. It was mind-blowing.
He pulls his fingers out of my pussy and brings them to his mouth, sucking each one like you would after devouring some amazing fried chicken from Roscoe’s—or whatever the likely beer-battered Irish equivalent of that would be.
“Delicious,” he moans, and then his mouth is on mine again.
“I want you, Killian,” I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him close. He pulls away slightly, looking at me with unmasked, primal desire.
He nips at my bottom lip, his hands roaming over my body.
My body temperature’s rising, and he’s dialing up the meter so much that my pussy’s throbbing with anticipation.
I lift my hips to press against the bulge in his pants, slowly gyrating back and forth.
“Fuck, Becks.” He pushes back up against me, but when I move my hand down to touch him, he grabs it and pins it to the couch with his.
“Mm-mm. Not yet.”
A quick peck on the lips is all I get before I feel his tongue on my jaw then my neck. Before I know it, I’m crying out in pleasure as he grabs one nipple in his hand, and the other in his mouth.
His tongue circles it before claiming it between his teeth and flicking his tongue back and forth over my swollen flesh.
Still sucking on my nipple, his hand finds my clit again.
“Ohh!” I can’t help the half-gasp, half-cry that escapes. The sensitivity level is off the charts, and a simple touch is enough to get my juices flowing once more.
He doesn’t stop there, though. His lips and tongue continue to tease me as he moves his head down.
His hands spread my knees apart, and his palms rest on the back of my thighs.
Oh fuck, is he going to—
“Killian!” I throw my head back and arch my pelvis as his tongue flicks across my already sensitive clit.
He looks up at me, and as our eyes meet, a teasing grin spreads across his face. He traces the inside of my pussy lips and dips his tongue inside, moving it ever so lightly.
It’s enough to drive me fucking insane.
I run my fingers through his hair, grabbing handfuls and silently beckoning him to lick me where I want it most.
He alternates between gliding over my clit and sucking on it. Every now and then, he stops, looking at me with a devilish expression that stirs both frustration and lust.
He brings me so close to the edge, pulling back at the last minute, denying me my release.
“You’re a fucking tease,” I pant. I can barely keep my composure. My fingers tangle tightly in his hair, and now I can’t stop myself from grinding against his tongue desperately.
I can feel him smiling as he licks slowly around my clit.
Infuriating asshole.
Finally, it seems like he’s had enough of teasing me. His tongue is flicking rapidly back and forth, up and down. The pleasure is building, and all I can think is pleeeaase don’t stop.
Squeezing his head between my thighs, I let out one last cry as he takes me over the edge.
My body shudders as his tongue slides inside, lapping up all my juices before he slowly pulls away.
Exhausted and spent from the most pleasure I’ve experienced in the last three years, all I can do is lay motionless on the couch.
Killian crawls up onto the couch until his head is resting on my tits. It’s like he thinks they’re a fucking set of pillows that exist solely for him.
I lean up, pushing him into a sitting position, and straddle his lap.
My hand dips down to his pants, slipping inside, where I can feel the tip coated in pre-cum.
He wants me just as bad as I want him. All I can think now is that I want that massive cock of his inside me. I want to show him the same pleasure he’s shown me and take us both over the edge again, together.
Before I have a chance to do anything else though, he grabs my hips and moves me off of his lap. Then he stands up, adjusting his pants to shift his now very visible erection.
Confused, I look up at him as he leans down to kiss me.
“The rest’ll have to wait.”
Is he fucking kidding me?
I grab my sweatshirt from the floor and throw it on as I follow him to the kitchen.
Walking to the table, Killian grabs the rest of the Locke’s and the bottle of Jameson sitting on my counter.
“I’ll be borrowin’ this, lass. Not like you’re going to be able to drink for a long while, anyways.”
Well, that’s presumptuous of him. He thinks he’s got me in the bag.
“If it’s the whiskey you want, take it,” I admonish him, waving towards the door. “But don’t make the mistake of getting ahead of yourself.”
That stops him in his tracks, and he turns around as he steps out onto the porch. “Getting ahead of myself? Becks, you clearly—”
“Just because I enjoyed myself doesn’t mean that I’m going to agree to this just yet,” I cut him off. “Making a woman come and having a baby are two totally different things. Surely you didn’t think that was enough to seal the deal?”
The look of surprise on his face is evident.
The feeling of satisfaction I get as I shut the door in his face is glorious.