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He groans, dragging a knuckle over his jawline.
“You look… like a bad decision,” he growls, breaking eye contact with me to stare up at the ceiling and shake his head. God, my nipples ache with anticipation.
When he looks back down at me, his expression is dark. “From the moment I saw you at the Van der Boors, all I’ve done is fantasize about fucking you. I don’t want anything else from you but your body. I don’t want to get to know you. I don’t want you to tell me your life story or your hopes and aspirations or your fucking star sign. I just want to use your body for my own pleasure. Is that understood?”
I nod.
“Unzip me.”
With trembling hands, I fumble with the button of his jeans, slide down his zipper, and with a cursory glance back up at him, he gives me the nod to take him out. I can’t stifle the gasp that escapes my throat as his cock springs to life. He’s thick, throbbing, smooth. Rock hard and glistening at the tip. Jesus Christ, I just want to lick the—
“There are a few things you should know,” he continues, reaching down to pull my chin up to meet his eyeline. He holds me there, hand gripping my jaw. “It is not my duty to make you come. I don’t care if you do or don’t.” He pauses, waiting for my reaction. It doesn’t come. “I like it rough,” he says softer than his words would suggest, “Sometimes… very rough. But if you ever want me to stop, you just say so, and I will. Understood?”
This throws me. “Why do you care about what I want? I’ve agreed to let you do whatever you want to me. That was part of the deal.”
He falters. Eyes soften by a million degrees, and a flash of concern graces his features. Without another word, he pulls me off my knees and traces my cheekbone with his fingertip. When he speaks, he’s almost angry. “You will experience pain, Dahlia, but never more than you can handle,” he sounds like he’s choosing his words very carefully. “I will find your boundaries and I will stick to them. Do you understand me?”
I nod, and his eyes harden again. “Good. One last question. Are you protected?”
“Uh, I’m on the pill.”
“And clean?”
Flustering, I nod again.
He nods too. “Good. Me too. Now back down on your knees. I need to know what that smart-ass mouth feels like.”
The second I sink down he catches me off guard by winding his fist into my hair and jerking my head back. A million strands of my hair scream all at once. I moan, surprised at how much I enjoy the mix of pain and anticipation. Cillian’s watching me, carefully, assessing my reaction.
“Remember, Dahlia Rose,” he murmurs, “All you have to say is stop.”
The second I nod he slams his length into my mouth. I pull away, gasping in shock, but a look up at Cillian’s amused expression and the sexy way he’s biting on his bottom lip, it’s like a switch flicks on inside of me.
Suddenly, I’m desperate to please him. To show him Icanplease him in the way he wants.
To show him that I was worth saving.
I wrap a firm hand around the base of his cock and slide my lips down the length of his thick shaft to meet it. I’m still a good inch from my hand when I feel his tip hit the back of my throat.Jesus Christ, he’s massive!
But his moan spurs me on. Working my way back to his tip, I lightly flick my tongue over it, feeling the shudder in his quads, and then slide my lips back over his shaft, slowly, opening my gullet so I can take more of him in. “Good girl,” he groans, tightening his grip on my hair.
Good girl.
He clearly enjoys the way my moan vibrates around his girth because he mutters something explicit under his breath. He holds me against the base of his cock with a firm hand against the back of my head. I can feel the threat of my gag reflex, but I relax my body and squeeze my watering eyes shut. Eventually, he lets out a hiss of breath and yanks me backward, pulling me off his cock. He pulls my hair down so my face turns up to him. There’s something new in his eyes, something I like. Admiration. “You like sucking my cock, angel,” he mutters. It’s not a question. He’stellingme I’m enjoying sucking his dick and the way he says it makes my head spin with lust.
“Get up.”
My legs are shaky but his strong arms help me up, and with the same force, he spins me around to face his desk. The same firm hand that held my head against his cock bends me over the surface, so my cheek is flush with the oak. With his other hand, he holds my wrists together behind my back. “I’ve wanted you in this position for so fucking long,” he growls, lips brushing against my ear lobe. “Bent over, ass up, legs spread for me.”
I gasp with pleasure, his deep, velvet-like voice and the feeling of smooth, cold wood against my nipples are driving me wild. He silences me by pressing my head harder into the desk. My pussy throbs with excitement; now I know how his big cock tastes, I’m desperate to know the feeling of it stretching me open.
It doesn’t take me long to find out. Slapping my thighs apart, he pushes the head of his dick against my lips. I’m dripping—I can feel my wetness dribbling down the inside of my leg — and so his cock slides into me with ease. “Oh, fuck,” I gasp as his shaft rips through every nerve ending between my thighs, a cocktail of sweet, hot pain and excruciating pleasure taking over my body.
“You’re a tight little fuck, angel.”
After a few, rhythmic pumps, the pain settle, and it feels like my pussy is custom-made to his size and girth. His strokes grow frantic, and with every slam into my body, my muscles relax more and more, until I’m high off the feeling of being his little fuck toy.
I cry out when he yanks my hair back, pulling me upright. His hard chest crashes against my back, and he locks me firmly onto his cock with a strong arm around my waist. The only thing separating our bodies is a thin film of sweat and steam, and I glide, frictionless, over his abs as he continues to slam himself into me.
