Bottoms Up (Getting Lucky)

When the thick crown was lodged in the opening of my body, I bit my lip, the stretch already breath-stealing, but I wanted to feel more. He started pushing back in, and I rose up slightly and looked down, watching as he claimed me fully. Obscenely. With no inhibitions.

He was so huge inside me, my skin stretched wide around his girth. But I was wet, so soaked my inner thighs were sticky from my arousal, no doubt leaving a wet spot on the bed. And when Cillian started moving in and out of me harder, faster. I could see the erotic change in him.

His hands on my waist were brutal, his fingers no doubt leaving marks.

I let myself fall back on the bed, the sheets warmed from my overheated body, slightly damp from the sweat covering me. I closed my eyes and groaned at the sound of our wet skin slapping together. It was filthy. It was so good.

Oh God. I’m going. To. Come.

I was so close, but the feeling of him pulling out had my eyes snapping open and words sputtering out of me. “Cillian, what are you—” The words left me when he got off the bed, gripped my waist, and flipped me over. My feet were on the floor, my chest on the mattress. He propped my waist up, my ass now in the air as he kicked my legs open even more.

I gasped and looked over my shoulder at Cillian, who stood behind me with the shadows playing around his sweaty, hard body. He looked like an avenging god, and I was the object of his desire and revenge.

“Lass,” he gritted out, and he palmed my ass, gripped the mounds, and squeezed them in his big hands until the pain mixed with pleasure. I tossed my head back and wantonly pressed back for more.

Smack!

I cried out, surprised at how… good that felt.

“Ye like that, baby.” He didn’t phrase it like a question. Cillian spanked me again, and I moaned, my flesh heating, burning in the best of ways. He smacked my bottom again and again, the flesh jiggling, the sound of skin on skin loud.

I was still looking over my shoulder and lowered my gaze to his cock, seeing how hard he was. I could still see the glossiness from my arousal, but also a few streaks of my virgin blood.

“Yeah,” he gritted. “My lass likes that.”

God, I loved when he called me lass… and his.

And then he was sliding back into me, not making me wait to feel that stretch and burn and fullness. When Cillian was deep in my pussy, my body accommodating him fully, he stilled, panting behind me.

“Fook!” he roared and started pulling out and pushing back in, gentle and easy, slowly.

“More,” I begged. “I need more. I need it faster.” I faced forward, gripping my fingers in the sheets, pulling at them and lifting my ass higher. I needed him to impale me impossibly more.

He started really fucking me until the sound of our skin slapping together filled my ears.

“Aoife. Lass. You feel so damn good.” He growled the words, and I could see how tight his body had gone, how animalistic he seemed right now. I moaned at how hard he held me, as if he was afraid to let me go. “Aoife,” he moaned and clenched his jaw, closing his eyes. He stayed like that for a second before gritting out, “Ye feel how hard I am for ye?”

I nodded, unable to actually tell him that yes—God, yes—I was so ready for him.

He flipped me so suddenly and growled out, “Then watch me, lass. Watch as I claim you like no man ever will for the rest of yer life.” He slammed back home.

His words shocked me, aroused me. They seemed so permanent, as if he’d already declared us being together was a forever thing.

My eyes felt so wide as I stared at him.

“Sweet girl,” he groaned. “I want tae be gentle, want tae go slow, but ye burn me alive. I canna help myself.”

I shook my head, my lips parting as pleasure rocked me. “Don’t help yourself,” I found myself saying before I could stop myself.

He growled like a bear. “Watch as I make ye mine.”

Staring at where he was had me growing dizzy, my body becoming so hot I felt beads of sweat dotting my flesh. I looked down the length of my body and watched as he pulled out and pushed back in. His movements were steady and slow. He was allowing me to grow more accustomed to his massive length. He was going against what he really wanted to do, and that was to fuck me.

His cock was streaked with my glossiness, my virgin blood coating him. I didn’t know why that turned me on the way it did, but I felt myself becoming even wetter for Cillian.