Our hands caress and relearn, their touch tender and forgiving—healing. My fingers slide over his skin, his nipples pebbling under my touch. Slowly, Ronan dips his head and kisses me. It’s tender at first, then angry, then tender again. We kiss and kiss and kiss until our lips are sore and we’re left breathless.
Ronan whispers my name over and over again like a litany, bringing us closer together, marking me as his own. Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, Blaire … He calls for me, and every part of me surrenders to him. And together, we fly so high.
Ronan grips my shoulders and turns us both around to face a full-length mirror hanging on the wall. In the reflection of the glass, there’s a man whose beauty makes me want to weep for its perfection. His skin is light caramel. His body is made for worshipping.
“We belong together,” he says, his voice husky with passion. “You hear me?”
I watch him snake a hand down my body while he dips his head and kisses the curve of my neck before biting it. Our gazes meet in the mirror as his fingers cup my tits, rubbing and tugging my nipples. I gasp and recline my head back on his shoulder, seeing him fight for control as he continues his indecent exploration of my body. Reaching behind me, I wrap a hand on his erection. I curl my fingers around his hard cock and begin to stroke him, feeling the hot heat of his hardness slide through my palm.
I grip him harder making him moan. “Take me.”
Losing the little control that he has left, Ronan pushes me forward until my front is touching the glass. I stare at his reflection in the mirror as he grips my hand holding his dick and makes us both rub the head against my *, spreading its folds, and rubbing my clit.
“No more,” I beg, guiding him toward my entrance. “I need you inside me.”
Ronan places a hand on the small of my back, urging me to bend at the waist. I let go of his cock and place my hands in front of me for support. I’m a slave at his feet. Blood rushes to my head. My * is dripping wet with want as he nudges my thighs to open wider for him. “Fuck,” he curses long and slow, impaling me with one deep, fierce thrust.
And it’s paradise.
He slowly pulls back, and when he’s almost all the way out, he thrusts forward again and again and again. Each thrust is more aggressive than the last, more demanding.
“I want to hear you say those words,” he orders harshly, pounding harder, faster. “Say it, Blaire.”
I lift my ass higher to give him better access. “I love you.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you,” I moan.
He fucks me incessantly, dominating me with his body, with his hands, with everything that he is. And I give him every piece of me, surrendering my soul and myself to him. “Again.” His voice shakes.
“I love you,” I repeat, watching as tears begin to roll down his chiseled cheeks.
“Again.”
“I love you, Ronan.”
“You’re mine, do you hear?” He grips my hips forcefully, pumping in and out of me, bringing me closer to the edge. “Give me a thousand lives and a thousand eternities, and I would still find you and make you mine. Always.”
“Ronan … I …” I close my eyes and come undone. Ronan groans, finding his own release, as I feel a warm rush spreading deep inside me, filling me completely.
I wake up sometime in the middle of the night. Fear grips my chest when I discover that Ronan isn’t lying next to me. As my sight grows accustomed to the dark, I find his naked form sitting on a chair and looking out the window. Apprehension runs through my veins, making me doubt my next step. But a small voice inside me urges me to go to him.
Looking around for something to wrap myself in, I locate his discarded shirt on the floor and put it on. He glances back and sees me. He reaches for my hand and pulls me into his lap so I’m sitting astride his legs. Ronan then grasps my thighs under the shirt and tugs me forward, bridging the space between us. In this position, I can feel his thick cock spreading the lips of my * apart, warmth gathering at my core.
A hot blush coats my cheeks as I lower my gaze and begin to trace the outlines of the tattoos adorning his carved torso. How devastatingly beautiful you are. Ronan places a hand behind my neck and gently pulls me toward him. Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek on his chest as he runs his fingers through my hair. The beating of his heart soothes me. His touch hypnotizes me.
“What made you go to Central Park?”
“I went to your apartment first, but you weren’t there. I didn’t know what to do or where you were, so I ended up going there.”
“Why?”
“I guess it’s because it reminds me of you.”
Happiness swells within me, making me float. More minutes pass in comfortable silence.
“I need to know, Blaire,” he says hoarsely, fear embedded in his words.
I tilt my head back and stare into his warm brown eyes that show me his soul. “What is it?”
“I saw the two of you at the masquerade …”
“Oh.” I bite my lip.