I gasped for air when he bent over and licked me.
“Don’t drop your ankles. No matter what. Understood?”
My voice quivered. “Yes, Sir.”
Ian proved exactly how skilled he was with his tongue. Skilled and sadistic, driving me out of my head but never giving me the chance to come. When he stopped abruptly, I was panting and moaning.
He, of course, was smiling. “Kneel.”
I climbed down onto trembling legs while he freed his cock. With one hand on my head, he guided himself into my mouth, held me there. His eyes were locked on me as he fucked my mouth. I sucked, licked, but he controlled my movements, all the while maintaining that eye contact, as though he was trying to relay his feelings that way.
“Tilt your head back.”
I did.
He angled his cock, pushed down into my mouth, all the way to my throat. I breathed through my nose, fought my gag reflex. I knew Ian loved this part. It was the only intimate act I’d performed on him at the club. Only him. Isaac never let me touch him, but they both always ensured I came.
“Swallow,” he said when he pushed in again.
I swallowed, knowing it would make my throat tighten around him.
“Good girl,” he whispered, pulling out, pushing in again.
He used my mouth for long minutes, his breaths becoming raspy. All the while, he stared at me as though he wanted to say something. No words ever came. When he pulled out the last time, he reached for my arm, tugged me to my feet, then ordered me to kneel on the recliner.
While he was ripping open a condom, I crawled into the chair, grabbing the headrest with both hands seconds before I felt him moving behind me, his warm hand curling over my hip, urging me toward him. I bent forward and a second later, he plunged inside me.
There was a litany of words in Irish, but I knew none of their meaning. However, his body was speaking to mine in a language of its own. I cried out with every punishing thrust, not caring who heard me as he fucked me relentlessly.
I was soaring, and a breath from going over before I stopped myself.
“Good girl. Don’t come yet.”
Gripping my hips, he drove into me, filling me with purpose. It was exquisite and exactly what I’d come to love about him. And Ian was right, we hadn’t spent nearly enough time together. I wanted more of it, but I wasn’t even sure how to go about asking for it. Not without hurting Isaac in the process.
I whimpered. “Please, Sir. May I please come?”
“Not yet,” he grunted, driving into me again and again, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held me in place.
It was intoxicating.
Ian never held back with me. He took what I freely gave him. I would likely have fingertip bruises on my sensitive flesh, but it would only remind me of how thoroughly he fucked me.
He grunted, groaned, his fingertips digging in deeper.
“Ah, little fairy. Such a sweet little pussy.”
I moaned, suddenly terrified that I would come without permission. It was so easy to do, but when he spoke like that, it was like his finger was on the trigger.
He jerked me back, driving in deep, making me scream with the pleasure that threatened to earn me punishment in the very near future.
“Such a good girl,” he groaned. “Come for me, little fairy. Come all over my cock.”
With his permission, I gave myself over, screaming his name as I rocketed into the ether.
He wasn’t far behind, slamming into me again and again until his hips thrust forward one last time before he came on a long, strangled growl.
“Thank you, little fairy,” he whispered as he leaned over me.
I turned my head, met his lips with mine. “Definitely my pleasure, Sir.”
He grinned, just like Ian always grinned.
Dante
Never thought I’d be sitting in the kitchen, listening to erotic screams sounding from above, but that was exactly where I found myself.
As I downed a sandwich at the kitchen island, I could hear Everly crying out, begging Ian to let her come. His answering grunts seemed to echo through the room.
I found myself smiling and I wasn’t even sure why.
For the past two nights, Ian had instructed me to be in his bed for thirty minutes each night. I’d followed through, pushing past the anxiety. Admittedly, it wasn’t as difficult as I’d thought it would be. Just the two of us in the dark. It wasn’t even awkward when Ian had pulled me in close, falling asleep with his arms around me. I might’ve almost fallen asleep last night.
Although I wouldn’t admit it to anyone.
Oddly enough, I’d slept soundly both nights after those events. Back in my own bed, alone, all the lights off. Dreamless sleep, too. No nightmares, no memories of hell invading.
