Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“God, I love your enthusiasm for sex with me.” I lie back, my head on the pillows, taking Ollie’s hand and pulling him with me. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
“I’m fine. I’m getting better, Cillian.”
“I like it when you say my name.”
“Cillian.” He leans down and kisses me. “Cillian.” Another kiss. “It’s like you turn me into someone else…Cillian.”
I grab the back of his head, holding him close so I can ravage his mouth with my tongue. We rut together, cock against cock, rubbing off like our bodies need each other. Is it like this for him too? I’ve never doubted myself as much as I do with him because everything feels so fucking new.
“Come on, dirty boy. Take what you need from me,” I tell him as I kiss his throat.
Ollie’s movements on top of me become faster, his thrusting more intense, needy little sounds pulling from the back of his throat that make my head spin and turn me on even more.
Who would have thought that rubbing dicks together could feel this good? I swear I feel like I’m going to drown in this moment, and I’ll go under willingly.
“Oh…I’m…” His eyes roll back, his movements becoming jerkier. I tug Ollie’s head down again, taking his mouth so I can swallow down the sounds of his orgasm. His whole body vibrates against me as I feel the warm splash of his cum against my skin.
I swear I feel like he’s mumbling my name into my mouth, and I hate that I can’t hear it, but I don’t want to stop kissing him either.
Ollie continues to thrust against me, spilling between us with each forward movement, his tongue caressing mine, and something about knowing how much pleasure he’s taking from me sends me careening over the edge. I lose myself to the orgasm, to the pleasure of Ollie, my cum joining his, rubbing into our skin as we don’t stop moving or kissing, though it becomes slower and slower, until Ollie stills on top of me, his head against my chest.
“You good? None of that hurt you?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair.
He doesn’t answer right away, and for a moment, I worry I broke him—or that I misread the situation and he didn’t want to do what we just did. Maybe he changed his mind and I didn’t realize? Christ, I would kill myself if I hurt him that way.
Just as I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, Ollie says, “You’re sweeter than you realize.”
A loud laugh bursts from my mouth. I don’t want him to feel like I’m making fun of him, but I can’t help it. There’s absolutely nothing sweet about me.
“I’m being serious. Don’t laugh at me.” He tries to pull away, but I wrap my arms around him, holding him in a way that should feel completely unfamiliar to me but somehow doesn’t.
“It’s cute you think I’m sweet. I don’t typically have people say things like that about me.” I sober. “I’m not who you think I am if that’s what you see.”
“You don’t get to tell me how to feel, Cillian. Maybe you’re in control of a lot in your life, but not that. My feelings are mine.”
I can almost believe him when he says things like that to me, when he looks at me all intense and passionate, confident in who he is and how he thinks, though I don’t believe he sees how confident he is, and…if there are parts I see in Ollie that he doesn’t see in himself, maybe that means there really can be pieces of me he knows are there that I can’t find.
No. What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t start thinking like that. I’m the guy who is going to kill for him, despite knowing he doesn’t want me to. While I see honor in that—except for the lying—he doesn’t. “Fine, Kitten. Your feelings are yours. I just don’t want you to get hurt when you realize I’m not who you want.”
“I learn more about who you are every day, and there’s more than you see,” he insists.
I roll my eyes. “Can we not do this? I don’t want to argue, and I’m not going to agree with you about this.”
Something in his demeanor changes, an additional softness to how he peers down at me with those big brown eyes of his. “What happened with your dad today?”
I stiffen beneath him. I’m not used to talking about my dad to anyone other than Tiernan and Rory—I don’t even open up to Aislin about him. Not really. “What did Rory tell you?”
“Nothing. Just that you were all up in your head about your father.”
Fucking Rory. He doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. “It was nothing.”
“I’m sure it was something. You can talk to me. I won’t judge you. I’ll just listen.”