Deserving It (Stolen Moments #3)

Our tongues are tangling, heating me up. I clasp my hands at her waist and switch positions, pushing herself up against the wall. Her kisses grow more frantic, and she hops up, whipping her legs around my waist.

I manage to tear my mouth away to say, “We have ourselves a bed, yeah. I propose we make some use of it. What do you think?”

“I’m on board with that plan,” she whispers and kisses me again.

Somehow I keep a hold of her and keep kissing her, while I’m looking past her head to see where the fuck I’m stumbling. It’s still savage dark in the room without the candles lit. I bump a hip into the kitchen counter, and when I follow it up with a shoulder bump into the bedroom’s door jamb, we start laughing.

I pull my mouth away as her laugh brushes over my lips. “No more snogging till I get us to the bed, yeah?”

She laughs again, and it’s making my chest warm to see her so happy.

I grip her tightly with one arm and slap my other against the wall, feeling my way into the bedroom. When my legs bump the bed, I toss her onto the mattress as if into a pool, a massive grin splitting my face.

She bounces against the mattress with a startled laugh and splays out, arms out to her sides like a snow angel, which I can barely make out in the storm’s gloom.

“Let me fetch us some candles. Don’t be going anywhere, yeah.”

“Okay.” She whips off her shirt and shimmies out of her shorts. I love how uninhibited she is. She has walls around her still, but in this aspect she’s all in, and that’s a huge turn-on.

I also love how she fights with me for control of the action. I bang around on the nightstand until I find myself a candle and lighter we put there and get it lit. I also duck into the kitchen and snag my tin. I have one condom left and plan to make the best of it.

A heartbeat later I’m back. Her eyes are on me, and she hooks her thumb into the edges of her white knickers. Before she can wiggle out of those, I grasp her ankles and tug her across the bed toward me. Her eyes widen, and a smile stretches across her face. Her brown hair is fanning out behind her.

I’m owing her some pleasure, but I’m also wanting to taste her.

Badly.

I drop to my knees on the carpeted floor and push her legs apart. I have her where I want her, her pussy at the edge of the bed covered in that white fabric. As I watch, her knickers darken slightly. Fuck me, she’s getting wet.

I brush my nose across her inner thigh and inhale her incredible scent of arousal.

“What are you doing?” she squeaks.

“What would you be thinking, macushla?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

I nudge my nose against the taut fabric covering the prize and rasp the flat of my tongue up the fabric. She gasps.

I work my tongue up until I find her clit through the knickers and suck it, trying to use the fabric to tease the sensitive skin.

But it’s not enough. I’m wanting to taste her.

I’m also wanting to tease her some. Make this last.

So I tongue her against her knickers, until she’s jerking and gasping. I hold her muscular thighs apart and rub my bearded chin against the softness of her inner thighs.

She bucks. “Conor!”

“Yes, macushla?”

“More, please.”

“Whatever you wish, loveen.” She’s probably expecting me to do the same action with my tongue, or step it up by removing her knickers, but instead I blow softly against her covered pussy, the wet fabric chilling her a touch. As I’d hoped, she’s closing her legs, but I hold them firm. I look up at herself. Across the smooth expanse of her belly, her head’s thrashing side to side, framed by the perfect V of her cleavage.

I slip my tongue under the elastic and swipe a taste across her folds. I close my eyes and groan. Fuck, she tastes of pure heaven. Now she’s muttering incoherently, and she’s pulling on my hair.

Some guys don’t care to lick out their girl, but I think they’re a bunch of pussies, which I know doesn’t make sense, and I’ve never understood why calling someone a pussy is an insult. Pussies are fucking awesome.

The angle is awkward, and I can’t bring my fingers into play to push aside the cloth or, better yet, take it off her, because my hands are keeping my head from being clamped by her strong thighs.

I mean, I love licking her gowl like this, but I don’t want to suffocate. Though that’d be one fine way to die.

I risk removing one hand, and sure enough, wham, that thigh of hers snugs up against me. I ease aside the crotch of her knickers and tease her clit, watching closely, and, yeah, she loves hard tugs, so I flick her clit, and then I’m sucking it into my mouth. She tenses, arches off the bed, chokes out my name, and I’m lapping her up.

Holy Mother, that was fucking savage.

I let up as the last of her shudders fade. I could never be getting enough of her taste, her sounds.

She tugs on my hair, urging me up.

I spring to my feet and yank off my clothes. God, she looks amazing. Claire is splayed out on the bed, her face looking sated, her limbs loose. And she’s staring up at me with hooded eyes.

I rip open the condom and roll it on, giving the lad a good stroke. Fuck, it’s going to feel awesome to be inside her again.

I lean down and smooth my hands up her strong, silken thighs, and she places her palms on my forearms, letting her hands slide up my skin as I move closer.

We were feverish earlier, so I’m meaning to take my time. I sculpt my hands around her waist and scoot her back a fraction so I can kneel between her legs. Yeah, I’m fucking massive hard.

I pull off her knickers and cup those plump breasts of hers, flicking her nipples, watching them harden.

She arches into my hands. “Conor.” She grips my shoulders and yanks me down.

Since we’re both liking to be in control, I shift and sit back on my ankles. The lad is pointing straight up, eager for her.

I lace my fingers with hers and pull. “Up here, macushla.”

She scrambles onto her knees, her hands on my shoulders, and climbs up onto me, ready to ride. This way we’re sharing control. The single candle highlights her cheekbones, the curve of a shoulder, the side of her breast.

I hold my cock as she lowers herself. She stops as she nudges the tip, and I rub the head through her folds, finding her wet as ever and giving her clit extra attention. When the head of my lad sweeps back to her opening, she groans and impales herself on me with a shout of, “Oh God, Conor.”

“You can ‘Oh God’ me all the day long,” I gasp. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw because—Jaysus—the sensation of her hot box tight around my dick squeezing me is quare good. Bless me if I know why any boyo likes feeling our cocks sink into something warm, wet, and snug, but the biological imperative means we love it.

We also love friction, but I’m letting her set the pace. I clasp her slender waist. Best part about this position? It puts her fantastic diddies in the ideal spot to…I lean forward. Ah, yeah. I lick the top of one of her breasts and circle the tip of my tongue around her nipple, inhaling the scent from her skin.

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