by Callie Quigg
“Don’t stop. Please.” And there it was, she was begging.
“I don’t plan to.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and lowered them to the floor before kicking them off.
Lord in heaven. If she’d known about how delicious his entire body was, she would have ripped his clothes off a lot sooner.
“Get over here.”
He chuckled softly. “Bossy, aren’t you.”
“Only when I have to be.”
She reached out and loosely curled her hand around his impressive erection and stroked from root to tip and back again. He cursed under his breath. Now it was her turn to tease and torture him.
“I like how you feel in my hand.”
“I love how I feel in your hand.”
“Then you’ll love how you feel in my mouth even more.” She dropped to her knees and flicked her tongue over the head of his hard-on. Ronan flexed his hips and groaned and the anticipation of what was about to happen shook her hands. She licked the underside of his shaft, tracing the tip of her tongue up and down. Unable to resist, she kissed a drop of moisture beading at the head of his cock. “You taste even better than you smell.”
He looked down, his eyes glassy. “Keep tasting.”
“I think I will.” Quinn sucked him deep, corkscrewing her tongue around him, and dug her nails into his hard thighs.
He wrapped her hair around his fist and tugged. “You were right, I do love how I feel in your mouth.”
She hummed her reply and continued to suck him deep, running her hands up and down and around his legs, grabbing his ass, cupping his balls. When was the last time she wanted someone like this? Felt like this? It’d been a while if ever. Pleasure pulsed through her. The kind of pleasure that tingled her skin and tensed her muscles and demanded a body-melting, heart-stopping orgasm. She looked up. He watched her. His eyes were as stormy as the snow clouds outside.
She tugged his balls and was rewarded with a groan. “You have no idea how sexy it is watching you suck me off. But if you don’t stop, I’ll come.” He eased out of her mouth, curled his fingers around his cock, and tapped the head off her lips. She ached to feel his cock hit off her nipples, her clit, to have him drag it all over her skin.
“Lay on the bed and spread your legs.”
“Who’s being bossy now?” She lay down and bent her knees at the ankles and let them fall to the side.
He massaged his hands up her legs and swiped his thumbs over the sensitive indents at the apex of her thighs. “Fucking perfect.”
She laughed. “I’m glad you approve.”
“I more than approve.” He leaned over and splayed a hand on the mattress by her shoulder, and slowly lowered his mouth to the center of her breasts. Her nipples drew tighter.
Wanting.
Waiting.
Aching.
He molded a hand around her breast and caressed and kneaded. Her pulse thundered and a fever scorched her skin, bathing her in a light sheen of sweat.
Last night, the pillow barricade was a big mistake and one she would never repeat. Tonight, nothing would separate them and when the fire smoldered and died, they would create their own heat. Body heat was the best kind of heat there was.
He moved his hand lower and cupped her mound, the heel of his hand massaging her swollen clit, his fingertips stroking her slick folds. She writhed and squirmed beneath his touch, and when he slipped two fingers inside her, the room spun and a fog of desire filled her brain. For the next while, nothing mattered or existed. Not Brady. Not Lily. Not Ella.
“You want more?” he asked, moving his fingers in a slow, agonizing motion.
“I want to feel your skin on mine.” Unafraid to show him what she wanted, she slowly rode his fingers, flexing her hips, bowing her back.
“Soon.” Over and over, he dragged his fingers from her. Frenzied cries fell from her lips, and she arched her body, doing her best to force him to go deeper, harder. “Ready for me to fuck you?”
“God, yes, so ready. I’ve never be more ready.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. Not yet.”
“I hate you.” And at that moment, she might have meant it.
Using his thumb, he traced small concentric circles around her clit. The waves of her orgasm built slow and steady, gaining strength and intensity with every touch. But she didn’t want to come. Not yet. She wanted to feel her walls clamp around his cock. Feel the weight of his body on hers.
“I need to taste you,” he said.
“Since I tasted you, I guess it’s only fair.” She held herself up on her forearms and watched as he knelt between her thighs. The second his tongue touched her, she cried out and threw her head back. The sheer relief of having his mouth on her was instantaneous. Like something she’d waited for her entire life but didn’t know she’d wanted until now.
He moved his attention to her clit, clamping his lips over her, scraping the edge of his teeth against her, bringing her to the brink but not allowing her to fall no matter how much her body strained and twisted.
He feasted on her. Explored her. Devoured her.
She curled her fingers through his hair and held him close, allowing him no escape, and even though she knew he could overpower her if he wanted, her body demanded she take what she needed. Instinctively, her hips rocked, searching, wanting, needing. He eased a finger and then another into her, curling them, twisting them, pressing them against her engorged walls. Her hips picked up speed and his fingers matched their pace, feeding the flames of her oncoming orgasm. She dug her fingers into his scalp and sucked in a sharp breath, and in a flash of light, an explosive climax obliterated her.
Her cries echoed around the room, drowning out everything else. She wanted to kiss him, taste him, share in the pleasure he’d given her.
With his fingers still inside her swollen channel, he moved up her body and mashed his lips to hers. There was desperation in the way he kissed. It was raw and messy, hard and soft, demanding and tender.
He eased his fingers from her, wrenching a moan of protest from her soul.
“Don’t stop.” She clamped her legs around his waist, pressing her feet into his lower back, urging him to take her.
“I’m not.” The blunt tip of his cock hit off her and another set of spasms wracked her body.
She ran her tongue over his lips, and whether he liked it or not, the wait was over. “Condom? Please tell me you have a condom.”
“A Boy Scout is always prepared.”
“If you’re a Boy Scout, I’m Mother Theresa.”
He rolled his warm body off her, scooped up his jeans, and fished through the back pockets. With a smile, he produced a small purple square.
“So you were expecting to get lucky?” she asked.
“Hopeful.”
He ripped the packet open and sheathed himself.
“Fuck me.” She reached out with her toes and seized his thighs, pulling him between hers.
“There you go being bossy again,” he said.
“I know what I want, and I want you.”
“What if I said I’m not ready to fuck you?”
“I’d say you were a liar.”
“I’d say you were right.”
Still standing, he curled his hands beneath her knees and pulled her forward until the head of his cock lined up with her entrance. As if trying to entice him in, her inner muscles contracted and rippled. She needed him to fuck her now, but he didn’t. Taking his sweet time, he worked the broad head of his cock a few inches inside her but didn’t go any further.
A few beats later, he eased out before reentering, going a little deeper, stretching a little wider. He pushed deeper still, and they both cried out, but he kept his thrusts painfully slow and controlled.
She dug her heels into his ass, imploring him to quicken his pace, to take her the way she needed, but he ignored her soundless plea and continued to take his sweet time with slow
, steady, and restrained thrusts.
She’d had enough of his teasing, and that was all it was. He was testing her. Seeing how far he could push her before she lost control. What he had to do to make her beg. Wasn’t going to happen. No way would she beg again. But if he wasn’t going to do anything to give her another orgasm she’d take care of it herself. Later, when they’d taken the edge off their desire, they could take all the time in the world and make leisurely love all night, but now wasn’t the time.
Reaching between them, she massaged her still sensitive clit.
“Fuck, Quinn.”
She smiled, tilted her hips, and circled her fingers around and around. “Exactly my thoughts, fuck Quinn.”
Ronan sucked in a breath. His hooded eyes watched her, as if mesmerized by the hypnotic movements of her fingers.
His muscles tensed and corded, and he clamped his hands around her hips. He was ready. On a groan, his thick cock filled her to the hilt and she met every one of his hungry thrusts.
Her breath became labored and wave after wave crashed over her. She didn’t try to hide her enjoyment and allowed the sounds of her second, more powerful orgasm to spill from her. Her walls pulsed around his length and his once measured thrusts were now rough and unrestrained.
The need to come contorted his face, groans and curses fell from his lips, and he drove into her over and over. His body stilled and he threw his head back. And with one final brutal thrust, he released her hips and fell on her, kissing her as if he needed her breath to live.
After a few seconds of stillness, he eased himself from her and went into the bathroom.
Her heart thundered and her body fought to get its equilibrium back. Never had the first time with someone been like that. Fun and lighthearted, and toe-curlingly sexy. A few more days of sex like that? Yes, please.
Ronan rejoined her in the bedroom and grabbed his clothes. She looked into his eyes. They were cold and distant. Concerned, she sat up and reached for her discarded underwear. “What’s the hurry? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything’s perfect.” The tone in his words and his jerky movements told her everything was anything but perfect.
“There’s still lots to do.”
“I’ll finish the rooms tomorrow,” she said with a languorous stretch. “Right now, I want to go to our room and continue what we started here and I’ll let you tease me as much as you want.”
“Plenty of time for that later.” He scooped up her clothes and sat them on the bed beside her. “Get dressed. If we’re going to keep going all night, we need some grub for fuel.”
“All night? Think you can keep up?”
"Without doubt."
Even though he’d used all the right words, and smiled at the right times, it was like he couldn’t wait to get out of the room and away from her.
Confused and more than a little disheartened, she began putting on her clothes, and by the time she’d dressed, Ronan had disappeared.
Chapter Six
Ronan strode down the hallway. The walls closed in on him. A woman hadn’t had this effect on him since Abbey.
He needed air. Needed to get away. Needed to think. His feelings for Quinn were growing into something more than he could handle. If he was merely passing time, why did his heartbeat triple whenever she was nearby? Why did his hands ache to hold her, stroke her? Hell, he could even tell when she walked into the room. He’d allowed his cock to control his brain.
This couldn’t, wouldn’t, happen. But it was too late. His heart had put blinkers and earmuffs on and craved nothing but her.
The phone clasped in his hand vibrated. He glanced down. A blocked number, and only one person would call him from a blocked number. Brady Gibson. Perfect fucking timing.
He accepted the call. “You’re a gobshite. What’s your game, Gibson?”
Brady chuckled. “Howya there, Ro. How’s the beautiful Quinn? I believe the two of youse are playing happy families.”
“Still up to your old games. Bleeding people dry.”
“Revenge is a bitch, isn’t it?”
Ronan gave a cold laugh. “Unbelievable. This is about your nose? You set this whole thing up because of something that happened years ago?”
“Not all of it. But when I saw your name in her emails, I couldn’t resist. I knew you’d be fuming someone got what you wanted.”
“You’re lucky your nose was all I broke. If my brothers hadn’t held me back, you’d be six feet under now.”
“Temper. Temper, Ro boy. Simmer down.”
“Stay away from me and stay away from Quinn.”
“Or wha’?”
“Don’t push me.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Save your breath. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” Blood pulsated in Ronan’s skull. He should’ve known. This was all about money.
“I think you do. A hundred grand in my bank account by the end of the day and cameras in every room. If not, the papers will hear everything. How you and Quinn came up with a story to extort one of the world’s biggest movie stars.”
“What proof do you have?”
“Enough.”
It’d be a cold day in hell before he did anything the lowlife wanted, but for now, Ronan would play along, call his bluff.
“If I do what you want, you’ll disappear? Leave Quinn alone?”
Silence crackled over the line.
“I need your word, Gibson.”
“You have my word.” Brady’s word was as transparent as a tissue landing in a puddle. “I’ll email you where to wire the money and where you can pick up the equipment.”
“You come to me.”
“No deal. Wire the money and come pick everything up or I’ll call one of me journalist friends right now.”
Brady was goading him. Trying to scare him.
“What will a journalist give you? A couple of hundred. If you’re lucky. And I know you’re not far from here. You always keep an eye on your marks.”
Ronan could almost hear the wheels turning in Brady’s head. He must be up to his eyes in it if he was considering coming to him.
“Tomorrow morning. Eleven.” There was a pause. “No funny business. I’ll text you when I’m on the way. Have my money.”
“I’ll wire you the money when I have it in writing you’ll walk away.”
“See you tomorrow.” The bastard hung up.
Ronan would call Shane, have him around when Brady showed up. But he wouldn’t say a word to Quinn. What a fucking mess. He slapped his palm against the wall so hard it stung.
“Another lovers’ tiff?” Lily asked from behind him, her words slurred.
He turned to face her. Max, who’d burrowed into the crook of her arm, wore a black bow tie and gazed adoringly at his new mistress.
“Not at all. Everything’s fine. You look a little unsteady there. Need some help back to your room?” And wine.
“We need food, don’t we Maxie Moo?” She lifted the dog up so they were eye to eye. “My stomach’s ready to cannibalize itself. Be a gent and help us down these damnable stairs. Don’t want to fall and crack my skull open.”
“With pleasure.”
Lily hooked her arm around Ronan’s and clung on like a limpet.
“Have you talked to Ella?” he asked. “Does she know about the weather?”
“Oh, she knows. Let’s just say she’s… not happy. Not happy at all.”
The mouth-watering smell of tomato-basil soup and freshly baked bread scented the kitchen and caught Ronan’s nostrils, pulling him to the stove. Brendan dozed on a chair by the blazing fire, blissfully unaware a con man demanded Ronan plant secret cameras in every room and ruin the castle’s reputation. He wouldn’t let it happen, and he would stop it before Brady destroyed Quinn and Brendan.
“Smells divine.” Lily inhaled deeply.
Brendan jumped up, his eyes bef
uddled with sleep. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”
“You made this?” Lily picked up the lid and inhaled deeply.
“That I did,” Brendan replied with a smile.
She scrunched up her nose and placed Max on the floor. “Won’t poison us, will it?”
Ronan ladled out two creamy bowls and pushed one toward Lily. “Brendan used to be one of the best-known chefs in Ireland.” He tore off a hunk of crusty bread and dunked it into his soup.
Brendan blushed and then turned his face toward the fire. “A lifetime ago. Sure, this is just a drop of soup.”
With an unsteady hand, Lily lifted a spoon to her mouth and slurped. “Nectar of the Gods. Don’t think I’ve had better,” She moaned and took another spoonful. “Seems you’re a man with many hidden talents, Mr. Moran.”
“More like wasted talents,” Quinn said, strolling into the kitchen.
She didn’t look at Ronan. Guilt pummeled his conscience. Running out of the bedroom like it was on fire was a shit move. He’d fucked up again. Big time. She was pissed and had every right to be. He’d make up for his too-fast exit later in one of the best ways he knew how, that was if she didn’t kick him out of the room for being a jackass, and if she didn’t find out about his involvement with Brady.
He should tell her the truth, but maybe if she didn’t find out about what he’d done, how he’d lied from the minute he’d met her, she’d think about building on the last few days. His head didn’t want to think about a relationship with her, but his heart did. They had something good that in time could be something great.
She went straight to the stove and ladled herself a bowl, avoiding him as much as she could.
“You know,” Quinn said, tearing off a chunk of bread. “I asked him to make the food for Ella’s wedding, but he refused.”
Brendan shrugged. “I’m too rusty. There’s a difference between some soup and a gourmet feast for famous people. And besides, I haven’t managed a kitchen in years.”
Ronan set down his spoon and used more bread to mop up the remaining soup. “Muscle memory would’ve kicked in.”