5
Ciana
“Good.”
The intensity of the way he said that one word made me smile. Things were moving astronomically fast between us. We’d gone from sharing a bottle of wine the night before to flirting and fooling around a little in my cabana earlier to him being balls deep inside me less than an hour later. My body was very much engaged, but the scary—and incredibly insane—part was that I was pretty sure my heart was just as committed as my body.
“Good?” I repeated, trying to keep it lighthearted even as we both struggled to breathe while he remained rooted deep within me.
“Yeah, good.” He lowered his head, pressing his lips to my ear. “I don’t want you leaving me behind.”
My orgasm hit me out of nowhere, his words acting as a detonator that shot me off into another world. I pressed my mouth to his shoulder, drowning out my scream as my entire body shook with the force of my release. Through my pleasure-filled haze, I felt him still above me. His arms began to shake as I felt him thicken, stretching my channel even more. I forced my eyes to stay open so I could watch him as he succumbed to his own pleasure.
He shouted something I didn’t understand as he filled me with his sticky, hot release. In that moment, as he gave himself over to his need, it was impossible to miss the flash of vulnerability in his eyes. As if he were blinded from the force of his orgasm, his mouth searched for mine, and I willingly gave it to him.
It was only as his tongue thrust into my mouth, tangling with my own, that I realized it was our first kiss. I knew what he felt like inside me, stretching my walls to the point of pain, his hard chest rubbing sensually against mine. I’d allowed him full access to my body—sans the protection I never in a million years would have imagined I would do with anyone, especially someone I’d just met—and we were only kissing for the very first time afterward.
The kiss was well worth the wait. There was something about his taste, the hungry, almost ravenous way he devoured my mouth that set me off again, tossing me straight into another orgasm even more intense than the previous one. My pussy walls clamped around his thick shaft, milking every last drop out of his cock, my stomach muscles spasming so hard that if he hadn’t been pressed against me, I would have twisted into a hopelessly tangled knot.
And still, we kissed, our mouths seeming fused together. Torin began to move his hips again, still rock hard inside me despite how much he’d already released only moments before. The mixture of our come sensitized my walls, making each pass of his cockhead over my G-spot that much more intense. I cried his name into his mouth, mini-orgasms exploding inside my body every third thrust.
Sex with a fumbling boy who had been just as clueless as I’d been was nothing compared to having a man take control of my body and bring it to life for the first time ever. I knew if I wasn’t careful, it could become just as addictive as heroin, only there would be no methadone to help me come down off Torin when I left the island without him. I’d have to quit him cold turkey.
Just the thought of leaving him caused me pain, which was insane. It had to be my burnout mixed with the ocean air. The island had cast a spell over me, and I was just living a fantasy until it was time to get back to reality.
One of Torin’s hands grasped my outer thigh, pulling my leg over his hip so he could go deeper. It seemed impossible for him to get even a millimeter deeper inside me, but I felt him go at least another inch. Stars flashed before my eyes, my nails raking across his back, but that only reminded me that he hadn’t even taken his shirt off yet.
Wanting to feel his skin against mine, I reached for the hem of the tee, wanting it gone.
Torin went still inside me and jerked back, breaking our kiss. I lifted my gaze to find him shaking his head. “Leave it on, mo chroí.”
“But I want to touch all of you.”
“Only through the shirt.” His eyes pleaded with me to understand. “There are some things you don’t need to see. Things that will turn your stomach.”
I cupped his face. “I’m a nurse, Torin. There is nothing on your body that could ever make me sick.”
He covered my hand with one of his and brought it to his mouth, kissing the palm. “Please, my beauty. Maybe I will show you eventually, but for now, don’t press this issue.”
“Okay,” I agreed, not wanting to ruin the moment—or, worse, embarrass him. “But I promise, there is nothing about your body that would ever turn me off.”
He gave me a grim smile. “I wish that were true, mo chroí.”
I pushed at his chest, and he willingly dropped back, lying down so I could climb on top. “It is true,” I vowed, taking him inside my body once again. Fuck, but he felt good. I never wanted this pleasure to end. “But I’m not going to push the issue. Right now, I just want to make us both feel good.”
Pushing up his shirt just a bit, I trailed my nails over his abs, making his stomach muscles clench at my touch. Touching him was just as much of a turn-on as having him inside me. He was brutally sexy in a way few men were, and it wasn’t just his physical appearance. He had this aura about him that screamed dangerous—destructive. It was deliciously tempting to see just how much destruction we could create together.
A brisk knock on the front door had us both going still. Torin groaned, the action setting off little fireworks deep within me. “The food.” Grabbing my hips, he lifted me, causing us both to groan as he left my body. Pressing a kiss to my brow, he jerked to his feet, grabbing a robe on the way to the door.
I remained on the bed, my most intimate flesh pulsing, aching for another release yet feeling raw from the workout it had already been put through. I sat there, listening as Torin answered the door, speaking to the waitstaff as they wheeled in our food and set up. The whole thing took about three minutes, and then I heard Torin tip them before they left.
Moments later, he appeared in the doorway. “Come eat, mo chroí,” he commanded. “You need a break before I devour you once more.”
“Can we eat here?” I asked hopefully. “One of my favorite things is to eat in bed and watch TV. I don’t get to do it enough back home.”
His hazel eyes brightened. “If that is what you want, then yes. I’ll bring the food. You stay just as you are.”
I rearranged the pillows for us and then reached for the remote to the television. Flipping through the channels, I was annoyed to find nothing worth watching, but when I got to the Netflix app, I clicked it and started entering my account information. As all of my favorite shows popped up, I debated which one Torin would enjoy the most.
He walked into the room, still in the hotel robe, the tray of food in hand. Placing it on the end of the bed, he sat beside me and then offered me a covered dish. The smells were so tempting, my stomach growled. Removing the lid, I saw Parmesan spaghetti. “Are these black truffles?” I asked, licking my lips in anticipation of the first bite.
“I thought you might prefer a pasta dish,” he said with a shrug as he picked up a wagyu slider and took a huge bite. My mouth watered as I watched him chew, unsure if I was hungrier for the steak he was currently eating or the taste of his kiss again.
“Black truffles are one of my favorite foods, but few restaurants have them on the menu back in New York.” I picked up my fork and twirled the pasta around it before lifting it to my mouth. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head at how good that first bite was. “Oh dear God,” I moaned. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
When I opened my eyes, it was to find Torin had stopped eating. His hazel gaze was locked on my mouth, and I quickly licked my lips, hoping I hadn’t embarrassed myself by getting the sauce all over my face. “Did I make a mess?” I asked with a shy laugh.
“Watching you eat is an erotic experience entirely its own,” he rasped. “The way your entire face lights up as the food touches your tongue. The graceful way your mouth and jaw move when you chew. How your throat works as you swallow.” He lowered his head, licking at my bottom lip. “I just need a small taste, Ciana. To know what has caused you so much pleasure, so that I can recreate the experience over and over again in the future.”
My breath hitched as his tongue swiped over my lip again. “Here.” My voice shook slightly as I twirled another forkful and lifted it to his mouth. “Taste for yourself.”
As he chewed, I took the last small bite of slider from his fingers and popped it into my mouth. “Oh, wow. This is good too.” I licked aioli from my lips, laughing at what a mess I must be making. “Sorry, I can be a bit of a slob.”
He was still taking his time chewing the pasta I’d given him. “This is your favorite?” he asked after swallowing.
“One of them,” I said with a nod, taking another bite.
“What is your favorite of all?”
I picked up a cherry tomato from the salad on the tray. Chewing, I considered my answer for a moment before shrugging. “Pancakes.”
His brows pulled together. “Pancakes?”
“Yeah. More importantly, my mom’s pancakes.” Noticing his expression didn’t change, I sighed. “I’ve had some of the best food from all around the world, but honestly, there is just something about her pancakes. She can’t cook many things well—she was always surrounded by staff that would cater to her every need if she wanted. But on the weekends, she would always make sure to make us breakfast. She still does when we’re all home.”
He looked confused, as if he didn’t understand why my mother’s pancakes were so special that they were my favorite food ever. A thought hit me, and my heart hurt for him. “You aren’t close to your mom?”
His jaw hardened. “My ma passed when I was a lad.” Tears instantly filled my eyes at the loss he must have felt when she died. I couldn’t imagine my life without either of my parents in it, but especially not my mom. “Growing up, my time was split between her grandmother and my da. The two hated each other, but Da tried to keep peace with the old woman for my sake. My great-grandmother took it as a sign that my da was weak and that she was winning the war between them. But he quickly showed her how wrong she was.”
“I’m sorry you were used as the rope in the tug-of-war between the two of them,” I murmured, squeezing his hand. “But the affection I hear in your voice when you speak of your dad tells me you love him. Do you two have a close relationship?”
A muscle worked in his jaw, and it took him a moment before he answered. “We were. He, too, passed about twelve years ago. An auto accident.”
“Oh no! Torin, I’m so sorry.” More tears filled my eyes and I tried to blink them away, but one spilled free. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen,” he gritted out, then lifted his gaze to my face. When he saw my tears, his entire face transformed. “You’re crying…for me, mo chroí?”
He cupped my face, his thumb gently wiping away the dampness on my cheek. “The loss of both your parents must have been unbearable.”
Torin grimaced. “Let’s just say that I felt the absence of my da more so than my ma.” He tucked my head against his chest, kissing my messy hair. “Don’t be sad for me. I rarely even allow myself to think of my parents these days.”
I tipped my head back and touched his chin with my fingertips. “Tell me one thing you miss the most about your dad.”
His handsome face scrunched up for a few seconds as he considered his answer. Then it cleared, and a small smile tipped up his sexy mouth. “The way he would randomly rattle off stats of his favorite baseball players. He was an avid fan, and we flew over to the States often throughout the summer months to watch his favorite team.”
“The Yankees?” I guessed. It seemed like everyone loved the Yankees, especially my three brothers. We had an entire row of seats each season right behind home plate. I went with them and Ryan to a few games every year, but mostly it was just to keep Nova company during the long game.
His eyes darkened. “Fuck no. Yankees.” He spat out the name with disgust, and I instinctively knew exactly who his father’s favorite team was before he even voiced it. “The Red Sox,” he grumbled, shaking his head at me.
Giggling, I kissed his chin before reaching for my plate of food once again. “Don’t judge me,” I chided. “I couldn’t care less about what team you or anyone else likes. My brothers are the baseball fans, not me. I only go to keep my cousin Nova company. My sister refuses to even set foot inside a stadium.” I took a bite and paused long enough to chew before speaking again. “Actually, I think her refusal is more due to the fact that she once had this thing for a baseball player. He loved the game more than he loved her. It broke her heart…”
My voice trailed off, and I lifted wide eyes to Torin. Zariah would have killed me if she knew I’d even spoken a word about why she disliked baseball so much. I’d promised her never to speak to anyone about what had happened between “he who shall not be named” and her. But opening up to Torin came so easily that I’d accidentally let it slip. “Um, that stays just between us. I’m the only one who even knows she dated the guy.”
He leaned in and stole the pasta from my fork before giving me a wink. “Your secret is safe with me, my beauty. Anything you tell me will always remain between the two of us.”
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “What is it about you that makes me want to tell you every secret I’ve got stored in my vault?”
He grasped my chin between his thumb and index finger. “Give them all to me, mo chroí. I want them all. Even the tiniest ones.”
Laughing, I turned so I was facing him more, the plate of food still in my hands, my hair covering my breasts, though I felt anything but shy about my nakedness right then. I was completely at ease with Torin, as if we’d been doing this for years instead of only meeting the night before. “This was my first secret. I only told Ryan this one, but…” I lowered my voice, pretending as if it was the biggest secret of all. “I want to live in a castle.”
His voice was husky when he leaned in to whisper against my ear. “You’re in luck then, princess. I have two castles just waiting for my queen.”
Goose bumps popped up along my entire body as his breath brushed over my neck. “T-tell me more about you,” I commanded, trying to get control of my body’s reaction. I craved more details about him, wanted to know all his secrets just as badly as I wanted to spill all of my own to him.
“What do you wish to know?”
I tried to distract myself with another bite of pasta. “You’re thirty?”
“I will be thirty-one on the twenty-second of August,” he readily supplied.
“Any siblings?”
“I’m unsure if it’s fortunate or unfortunate, but no. I do have many cousins, but I dislike all but a select few.” He picked up another slider and offered me a bite, which I happily took, before he stuffed the rest into his mouth. Once he swallowed, he continued. “I can already tell you are much closer to your siblings than I am to anyone in my own family.”
“Ryan and I are the closest. He’s my cousin, but we grew up in the same house. Since my other siblings are all twins, I made Ryan my honorary twin so I didn’t feel left out.” I felt slightly embarrassed admitting that to him, yet I found myself elaborating. “I’m the middle child, the only one with brown eyes, the only one without a matching pair. Not that Zayne and Zariah match…” I rolled my eyes at my rambling. “Whatever. They still came as a pair.”
“And you didn’t want to be left out,” Torin said with an understanding nod. “Ryan became your twin on demand.”
“Exactly.” I picked up the glass of wine from the tray after setting the plate aside. “Ryan became my best friend. And even though Nova took over as his best friend throughout the years, we’re still really close. I know I can go to him with any problem, and he won’t hesitate to help me.”
“I’m glad you have him, then,” he muttered, his jaw clenched.
“Have you ever been in love?” I regretted the question as soon as it left my mouth. I didn’t want to know if he’d ever loved someone. The thought alone made me queasy, and I tipped my glass back, draining the contents of the delicious red wine as I prepared to hear his answer.
“I don’t give my heart easily,” he said with a shrug. “There has been no one to own it before now.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. His answer, whether it was a line or not, made me ridiculously happy. For the moment, I was going to pretend like it wasn’t a line that he spouted to every girl who warmed his bed. “What about girlfriends?”
“I don’t do relationships,” he said with a twist of his mouth. “‘Girlfriend’ is a dirty word to me. The image that comes to mind when someone says girlfriend is a greedy hooker who only wants to warm my bed for the things my bank account can supply her with.”
“So cynical.” I tapped my nail against the bowl of the wineglass, contemplating his answer. “But it doesn’t answer my question. I guess what I was really asking was if there was anyone special in your life back home.”
“Like a mistress?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, if that’s what you would call anyone in your life in that capacity.”
“No, there is no one.” He took my glass from me and filled it again from the bottle on the tray. After taking a thirsty swallow, he lifted the glass to my lips, right where his own had touched. Even after everything we’d just done in bed, the act of placing my lips to where his had just been seemed incredibly intimate. “And if you want the full truth, those from the past were just someone to scratch an itch. There was never anything special about them or what was between us. They knew the score when our arrangement began. If they caught feelings, then they were solely one-sided.”
I tilted my head to the side, watching him through my lashes. “And what exactly is ‘the score’ with us?”