Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
He pulled back and slid in again slowly. My legs shook.
Then his hands tightened as he slid out again, softly, gently, before thrusting back inside hard. I lost all ability to reason as I came sobbing his name. The orgasm lasted so long that by the time I came back down, Cian’s arm was wrapped across my chest with his hand on my opposite shoulder, holding me up just inches from the vanity top.
“So good,” he murmured into my neck. “Fuck, baby. Never had anythin’ like it.”
“Need to lay down,” I mumbled, pressing myself up on rubbery arms.
“So beautiful,” Cian said softly, pulling out slowly.
He helped me straighten and turned me toward him, wrapping his arms around me. One hand held me tightly as the other slid down over the tender cheeks of my ass.
“You got my handprints,” he said, soothing the marks with his fingertips.
“Yeah, what was that about?” I joked tiredly.
“You liked it,” he replied simply.
“No one’s ever done that before,” I said foggily as I stumbled to the bed and fell face first onto it.
Cian was quiet behind me until I turned my head to look at him.
“Don’t mind knowin’ you’re gettin’ somethin’ new from me,” he said darkly. “Don’t like hearin’ about what you’ve had before.”
“Noted,” I replied, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to hear about him being with other people either.
I lay there while he pulled on his boxers and jeans and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. I knew he wasn’t going far with his hoodie and cut still laying on the vanity stool that we’d pushed halfway under the table during our sexscapades. A few minutes later, he came back in the room and pressed a warm, wet cloth between my legs, cleaning me gently from behind.
I was so wrung out I could’ve slept for a month, but I still found myself pulling one of my knees higher on the bed to give him better access.
Cian chuckled quietly and pulled the washcloth away. His calloused fingers played gently, so softly that the sensation almost tickled. When he brushed my clit, I nearly jumped off the bed, but a firm hand on the small of my back stopped me from moving.
“Too much,” I gasped through my teeth, the sensation almost painful.
“You can take it,” he argued, his fingertip brushing back and forth. “Ride it, baby.”
“I can’t.”
“Yeah, you can,” he said in satisfaction. “You’re drippin’ down my hand.”
“Cian,” I gasped as his thumb slipped inside me.
“Ride it, Myla.”
I jerked my hips, and I wasn’t sure if I was trying to get more or less. My breath was sawing in and out of my lungs, and my teeth were clenched so hard that my jaw ached when he pinched my clit hard between two of his fingers.
My orgasm didn’t hit in waves. It throbbed through every part of my body from the tips of my toes to my scalp.
I barely stayed awake long enough for Cian to situate me on the bed and pull the blankets over us. I crashed so hard that when I woke up a few hours later, my mouth was dry from hanging open. Cian was snoring softly behind me.
Climbing carefully out of bed, I pulled on my new silk robe and wandered into the kitchen for a drink of water. The house was silent and dark, and I moved through it by memory as I grabbed a glass and got some water out of the tap.
The moon was out, but it only lit parts of my backyard because of the cloud cover. I stood in the window drinking my water as I struggled to see the dark parts of the yard.
That’s when I remembered the weird thing Aisling had said about Aoife being in limbo.
Why would Aoife be in limbo? Was there something happening with Richie’s estate? They were married, so it seemed like everything would just automatically go to her, right? The house had been hers before they were married, but maybe they’d put it in his name. Was that part of the reason they were staying at Ashley’s house?
I put my glass in the sink and made my way back to bed, still trying to puzzle it out. Cian was still sleeping soundly as I dropped the robe and climbed back beneath the covers. I should ask him about it.
His breathing never even hitched as he rolled toward me and wrapped his arm around me, his palm finding my breast in his sleep.
I smiled and relaxed back against him and dozed off almost immediately.
The next morning, I completely forgot to ask him about Aoife.
Things might have gone differently if I’d remembered.
But probably not.
Chapter 17
Cian
“We’re just going to the bar near my house,” Myla said, sounding like she wished she could reach through the phone and strangle me. “There’s three of us, and we can all walk home together.”