by Chloe Walsh
"A freak?" Grinning devilishly, Rourke jumped off my bed and prowled towards me with exaggerated swagger, tipping his hat as he moved. "Now, now, now," he tutted, feigning disapproval, "Is that anyway to speak to Santa, little girl?"
Bad mood from my disastrous shopping trip with Mom instantly forgotten, I shimmied towards my man, jostling and shaking my hips to the music blasting from the iPod dock as I playfully fell into character.
"Oh, Santa baby, please forgive me." Batting my lashes dramatically, I closed the space between us and slipped my hands inside his Santa coat to rest on his ripped stomach. "Please don’t put me on the naughty list, Mr. Santa Claus, sir." Wrapping my arms around his narrow waist, I let one hand trail down his back to squeeze his tight ass. "I'll be a good girl this time, I swear..." Reaching up on my tip-toes, I planted a lingering kiss on his lips, tongue snaking out to trace his bottom lip, before slowly pulling back and batting my lashes once more. "I'll do whatever it takes to stay on the nice list…" Teasingly, I let my hand trail to the front of his boxers. "Anything," I purred, cupping his junk. "Sir…"
"Well shit," Rourke groaned, instantly hardening against my hand. "This is supposed to be your birthday gift, but it's starting to feel like mine, Six."
"Ha." I grinned in victory. "So, my birthday gift is role play?"
"Tempting…but no." Tapping me on the nose with this finger, Rourke quickly moved for the black sack at the foot of my bed. "These –" he paused to tip the contents of his Santa sack onto my bed, "Are your birthday gifts."
"Whoa," I breathed, eyes widening at the sight. There had to be at list twenty gift boxes on my bed. "What the hell did you do to afford all of those? Rob a bank?"
"Close," he shot back, sinking down on the bed. "I turned eighteen and inherited this town."
"That's so hot," I countered, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Trust-fund baby."
"Not as hot as what I plan to do to your ass, little miss promises to swallow but always spits," came his quick-witted retort.
"Hey –" I narrowed my eyes, "I can't help it if I have a sensitive gag reflex!"
"Selective gag reflex," he shot back. "Now, get your sexy ass over here." He patted his thigh. "Come and sit on Santa's lap, baby," he purred, dimples deepening in his cheeks. "I've got a real special present for you."
It was a trick.
Of course it was a freaking trick.
It didn’t stop me from springing onto his lap and straddling him, though. Nope. Because when it came to Rourke Owens, I was a lost cause.
"What's this?" I asked when he produced a small, rectangular shaped gift box from behind his back.
"Open it and see."
Wary, I narrowed my eyes. "Rourke…"
"Just open it, Six."
"Fine, but you better not have spent a lot of money on me –"
"I'll spend whatever I goddamn want on you, and you'll like it," he interrupted, ever the alpha male. "Now, open your gift."
Reluctantly, I did.
Carefully undoing the ribbon on top, I lifted the top of the box off and gaped at the contents inside. "You…bought me a rubber dick?" I strangled out, eyes locked on the neon-pink vibrator. "For my birthday?"
He grinned devilishly. "I sure fucking did, Six."
"You're an asshole."
He laughed. "Don’t get pissy. It's in conjunction with this." Sliding his hand into the pocket of his Santa coat, he retrieved a small square box and quickly flipped it open.
"Oh my fucking god," I breathed, eyes glued to the diamond ring inside. "Is this a…because I'm not sure if I'm ready to get mar…"
"It's a promise ring," he quickly explained, taking the ring from the box and sliding it onto my finger.
My heart hammered violently in my chest. "A promise of what?"
"A promise to not put my dick in anyone else."
"Cute." I rolled my eyes. "Real cute, Rourke."
He grinned. "And this –" he took the vibrator out of the box, "Is another promise."
"Oh yeah?" I arched a brow. "A promise of what?"
"This is a promise that you're making to me."
"Oh really?"
"Really," he purred. "Aside from my cock, fingers, and tongue, this right here is the only thing you'll be feeling inside of your body from here on out."
Jesus Christ…
"Is that so?"
"It sure is."
"Well, I didn’t give you that authority over me," I teased, rocking suggestively on his lap.
His gripped my hip tightly. "I didn’t ask your permission."
Fuck.
"Get naked, Six," he commanded, eyes darkening with heat. "Because you're about to fuck yourself, and I'm about to watch."
It was scary the things I was prepared to let Rourke Owens do to my body – and how much I enjoyed him doing them.
Naked as the day I was born, I continued to play with myself, pushing the vibrator through my wet folds, in and out, deep and hard…
I needed to come.
Fast.
I was writhing in a state of deranged pleasure, while his eyes burned into me. Too aroused to stop, I just looked at Rourke and kept going. His eyes on my body only made it better. More intense.
On my back with my legs spread wide open, I continued to fuck myself, clicking the button at the base of the vibrator several times until the fastest vibration tore through me.
"Fuck," I cried out, eyes rolling back, as I held it deep inside, and reached down to roughly thumb my clit.
I needed the orgasm I was chasing. I needed to come so badly that I couldn’t think about anything so minuscule as my self-respect.
My vision clouded when Rourke trailed a finger over the tips of my breasts.
Unsatisfied, I released a frustrated cry and pressed harder.
"Enjoying Rourke. Jr, Six?" he asked, sinking down on the edge of the bed, playing with my hardened nipples.
"Help me, asshole," I begged, crying out when I clumsily lost my rhythm and the rippling sensation building up inside of me faded out.
He arched a brow. "Asshole?"
"Please," I begged. "I need to come."
He trailed his hand down my body, stopping at my clit. I watched as he leaned over and pressed a small kiss to my hip.
I thrust my hips upwards but he pulled away, smile tormenting and teasing.
"You want me to make you come, Six?" he asked, tone soft.
I nodded eagerly.
"That rubber dick's not like the real thing, is it, baby?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Can't fuck you like I can…"
"No, Rourke, fuck! Please just…"
"Please just what, Six?" Rourke crooned mockingly. "Please just fuck you with this?" His hand wrapped around the vibrator. "Is this what you want?" And with a flick of his wrist, he managed to hit a pressure I hadn't been able to reach on my own.
Having his eyes on me only intensified the sensations thrashing through my body. "Yes…please, oh god… No –"
I screamed when he switched it off and stood up.
Quickly stripping off, Rourke reached for the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down until his cock sprang free; thick and hard and more appealing than any plastic knock off.
Without a word, he sank down on the bed beside me and patted his thighs. "Sit on my cock, Six."
Climbing on his lap, I slowly eased myself down on his thick erection; crying out when he filled me with every perfect inch of his cock.
I was filled to the point of pain, but then I sank down completely and he released a guttural snarl, the sensation driving me batshit crazy.
"Ride me, Six," he commanded, tone thick and raspy. "Fuck the real deal, baby."
So I did.
Bouncing up and down on his cock, I was relentless and taking this all for me. Hips bucking wildly, I didn’t care about his pleasure in this moment.
"Harder baby," Rourke growled in approval. "Fuck me with that tight little pussy."
His tongue slid in
to my mouth hard, hot, and sexy as fuck.
My skin was damp, cheeks flushed, vision blurred, but I heard the distinct sound of the vibrator going.
"Wh-what are you doing?" I moaned against his mouth, bopping up and down like a rag doll.
"You're going to take my cock, Six," he growled against my lips. "And whatever else I give you."
Oh sweet Jesus…
Nodding, I rode him hard and fast, stilling only when the searing sensation of pressure attacked my ass.
When I sank down on his lap, Rourke pushed up, pushing past my tight walls, fucking my ass with the lubed-up vibrator, filling my pussy with his cock, and my mouth with his tongue.
"Jesus…" I was so full, so turned on that I jerked violently in his arms.
He kept it in my ass, thrusting his hips upwards, holding me on his lap.
"Feel me," Rourke ordered, pumping me with his cock, fingers digging roughly into my hipbone, as he fucked my ass with the vibrator. "Feel me fucking you, Six."
Oh fuck, I could…
"I can't take it –" Crying out, I bucked wildly on his lap, unable to take the pressure rising up inside of my core. "Rourke, I'm gonna…"
The orgasm that crashed through my body was so powerful that I collapsed against his chest, a jittery, shaking mess. "T-turn it o-0ff," I moaned, feeling like I had been electrocuted by sensations. "P-please, Rourke."
"I've got you, Six," he groaned, slowly pulling the vibrator out of my body while he emptied himself inside of me. "Jesus…"
Completely spent and thoroughly satiated, I sagged against him, boneless and still trembling. "I think we're going to hell," I managed to whimper when words finally found me again.
Chuckling, Rourke pressed a kiss to my hair. "Happy birthday, Six."
Read Rourke and Mercy's story in
Endgame, Ocean Bay #1,
available now.
4
Tuesday
Ballylaggin, Cork
Claire Biggs
Sitting around in a large circle in the back field, while my friends played spin the bottle, I could sense that things were changing this summer.
I felt different.
Gerard looked different now, too.
He was getting bigger.
So much bigger.
His voice was changing, but his eyes?
God, those silver eyes that twinkled with mischief were still the same.
The new boy from Dublin was sitting next to Gerard – the one with the pretty blue eyes and constant frown. He looked super bored as the girls who'd joined in the game tried to land their bottle on him.
He'd kissed more girls this afternoon than any of the other boys in the circle had, and I couldn't understand how his lips weren't stinging. They certainly looked swollen and I knew he used his tongue.
Ugh.
It didn't seem to faze Jonathon Kavanagh, though. He acted like he was a grown up and we were children. Like he was too old for us or something.
Every time he spoke, or said the words 'shite' or 'bleeding', the girls all giggled and batted their lashes at him.
I wanted to vomit.
Yuck.
These girls were thirteen and about to start first year at Tommen College with my brother, the Dub, and his friends.
I was eleven and still in primary school.
These girls had boobs, wore lipstick, and possessed all of the things that I either didn't have or hadn't grown yet.
On the plus side, this Jonathon boy was distracting them from their usual ogling of my Gerard – something I was very happy about.
It was in that moment that I decided that the Dublin boy could stay.
He could be an ally of sorts against these horny girls until I grew some knockers – and some courage.
"Ah, Jaysus, not again," the Dub grumbled in his lyrical twang, dragging me from my thoughts. "There's a smell of Tayto crisps off your breath that would knock a horse off a bleeding donkey."
"Rules are rules, Johnny. Now, pucker up."
Huffing out a breath, I stretched my legs out on the warm grass and watched for the fiftieth time today as Laura Collins deliberately stopped her spin of the bottle in front of Gerard's new BFF.
Giggling, Laura crawled over and pressed her lips to the Dub. He only looked mildly interested because he didn’t even sit up to kiss her.
Instead, he continued to laze back on his elbows with his precious rugby ball on his lap.
Sitting cross-legged beside me, Lizzie was still fuming over having to kiss my brother Hughie earlier. The sun was splitting the stones, but that didn’t matter to Liz. Oh no. Donning the biggest hoodie she could find, she kept the hood up, shielding her face from view.
Yeah, she was so not happy about this game.
I didn’t blame her.
I couldn’t think of a worse fate.
Hughie was gross.
When it was Gerard's turn to spin the bottle, I held my breath and desperately tried to feign impassiveness, when I was anything but.
Not her, not her.
Oh no, anyone but Luna.
Oh please, god, not Katie fecking Wilmot.
No, no, no, no…. yes!
The rim of the bottle landed at my feet and I felt the air thicken around me.
"Ugh," Lizzie growled, tone laced with disgust. "Don’t do it, Claire."
"A dare's a dare, Claire," Pierce Ó Neill taunted from his perch in the circle. "You have to kiss him."
"She doesn’t have to do shit," Lizzie snapped, glowering back at him. "You can say no, Claire. You can always say no."
"Yeah. Shut the fuck up, Pierce," Hughie agreed, looking slightly pale, as he glared at the bottle that had landed on me like it was a venomous spider. "My sister doesn't have to kiss anyone."
With my heart hammering violently in my chest, I watched him watch me, feeling a swell of uncertainty and excitement rise up inside of me.
"It's okay, Claire-Bear." Gerard's voice didn’t sound so familiar anymore because it had broken over the summer. It was deeper now, he didn’t sound like a boy anymore, and the notion caused my belly to do somersaults. A ghost of a smile tugged at his pretty lips. "I can spin again and kiss someone else instead."
No!
Jealously roared to life inside of me, white-hot and ugly, prompting me to stumble clumsily onto my hands and knees.
"Do it," I told him, shaking from head to toe, as I shimmied closer. "Kiss me." Puckering my lips, I held breath and waited to see what he would do.
Shaking his head, Gerard climbed to his feet.
Confused, I studied his outstretched hand. "What are you doing –"
"Look alive, Claire-Bear," his hands hooked around my ankles and he dragged me away from our friends, "If I'm kissing you, I'm not doing it in front of these langers."
"If you drag me through cow-poo I'm going to be raging, Gerard Gibson," I choked out through fits of laughter, ignoring the chorus of cheers, as he dragged me across the field, with the heat of the evening sun shining down on us.
Only when we were on the far side of the field and out of sight of the others did Gerard stop pulling me by the ankles. "See? You're clean as a whistle, Biggs. No cow-shit shower for you." Laughing like a pair of giddy hyenas, he released my ankles and flopped down on the grass beside me.
"You're such a weirdo," I snickered, twisting onto my back to stare up at the cloudless sky. "They all probably think we've gone off to shift the faces off each other."
"Who fucking cares what they think?" he chuckled, rolling onto his back. "What I do or don’t do with you won't ever be for their entertainment."
I thought about his words for a long time before turning my head to look at him. "Why do you do it, Gerard?"
"Do what?"
"Act like a clown when you're around everyone else, but not when you're alone with me?"
"Why don't you call me Gibsie?" came his immediate response.
I scrunched my nose up in disgust. "Because you're not Gibsie to me, Gerard."
"Exactly." Shrugging, he unfolded his arms from behind his head and reached a hand out to me. "Some things just make sense, Claire."
My heart leapt in my chest. "Like us?"
"Yeah." He smiled. "Like you and me."
Exhaling a sigh of pure contentment, I allowed myself to revel in the feel of the back of his hand touching mine.
Moments later, when his fingers moved to entwine with mine, I had to bite down on my lip to stop my grin from spreading. "Gerard?"
"Yeah?"
"I want you to do it."
"Do what?"
"Your dare." Pulling myself up on my knees, I turned to look at him, excitement rippling through my belly. "I want that kiss."
Warm grey eyes landed on mine. "You don’t have to do that, Claire-Bear."
"I know I don’t." I squeezed his hand between both of mine, bubbling up with nervous excitement. "But what if I… kind of want to give it a shot anyway?"
His brows furrowed and I felt a tremor of anxiety rack through me.
Don’t say no.
Don’t say no.
Oh please god, don’t say no.
Slowly pulling himself into a sitting position opposite me, he blew out a breath. "Can I tell you something?"
I nodded eagerly. "You can tell me anything, Gerard."
"You're my favorite person in the world."
My eyes widened in surprise. "I am?"
"Yeah, you are."
"Even more than your mam?"
"Even more than Mam."
"And Brian?"
"Definitely more than Brian."
Whoa. "Even more than the Dub?"
"Yeah." He nodded slowly, looking a little sad. "Can I tell you something else?"
Another wide-eyed nod.
"I need you to not go away…" His hand tightened around mine. "Like ever, Claire."
"Why?"
"You're the only person who makes it stop." He swallowed deeper and ducked his head. "The noise in my head."
I didn’t need to ask him what he was talking about.