“I want you,” I whispered into his ear as I nipped at his lobe. “Ronan, I want you so much. What are you doing to me?”
“The feeling is mutual,” he hissed as I undulated over him. “How fast does Evan fall asleep?”
I eased back, meeting his eyes. “What?”
“I can’t—we can’t—” he sputtered, his cheeks darkening. “I can’t make love to you with your brother listening.”
His obvious discomfort caught me off guard. To see this big man flustered and embarrassed was touching. Amusing. I turned my head, trying not to laugh.
I cleared my throat. “You build things, Ronan?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should have realized my brother’s bedroom is at the back of the house. My room downstairs is at the front.” I nuzzled his neck, flicking out my tongue and tasting him. “And I have a nice new door.”
He was on his feet fast. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Ten
Ronan
Beth checked the front door, then peeked in on Lucy and Evan. Both were asleep. She smiled when I was surprised to see Evan had crashed already.
“He had a long day.” She squeezed my hand. “A good one, thanks to you.”
She pulled me to the stairs, and I went ahead of her. She paused for a moment, then pushed the door shut behind her and followed me.
I looked at her, and she grinned. “It’s like a sock on the door in dorms.”
I waited until she walked into her room and shut the new door I had installed. I pulled her into my arms. “You use that sock a lot?”
“Never,” she admitted. “It’s been a long time for me, Ronan. In fact, it’s been so long, I don’t remember who gets tied up anymore.”
I threw back my head in laughter, managing not to be too loud. I hugged her tight. “We’ll figure that one out as we go along, little bird. Tonight, I want to be able to touch you.” I laid her hands on my chest. “And God, I want to feel these little hands all over me.”
She gazed up at me, her dark eyes wide with desire. I saw a glimmer of fear in their warm depths—a hint of vulnerability she kept hidden.
“Tell me what you want, Beth,” I murmured. “I’ll give you anything.”
“Kiss me.”
I covered her mouth with mine, lifting her up and wrapping her in my arms. I walked backward to the bed, kissing her the whole time. Her mouth was hot, her tongue like silk against mine. She tasted of ice cream, sweet and tangy. Like chocolate, rich and decadent. Like Beth. I slid my hands under her loose shirt, spreading them across the smooth skin of her back. She whimpered as I sat down, my erection pressed between us. I kissed her until she trembled, until I felt her desire overtake any fear or misgiving she harbored. I dragged my mouth across her cheek to her ear, tugging on the lobe. “Tell me.”
“I want to feel you.”
I stood and turned, laying her on the bed. I tugged my shirt over my head, letting her look. Her gaze roamed over my chest, down my abs, and lingered on my crotch.
“More?” I asked, my fingers hovering over the waistband of the sweats I was wearing.
She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as I pushed the sweats down, my cock springing free, hard and aching for her.
“Oh God,” she whimpered.
I stroked myself as I watched her. I stepped between her legs and slipped my fingers under her T-shirt. “My turn.”
She caught my hand. “I’m not, ah, pretty, like you.”
I shook my head. “I know. You’re beautiful.”
“You haven’t seen—”
I cut her off. “You. Are. Beautiful.”
Seconds later, she was naked. Her breasts were heavy, tipped with rose-colored nipples that begged for my mouth. Her hips were full, showing off the sweet indent of her waist. Her legs were long for someone so short, her calves shapely and toned. I lifted one foot, studying it.
“Little feet to match your little hands.” I kissed the high arch, trailing my fingers upward. “Perfect hips for me to grab. An ass I can’t take my eyes off.” I bent, nuzzling her breasts, pulling a nipple into my mouth and sucking. “I have fantasized about your breasts.” I switched to the other one, sucking and licking at the hard nub. “The fantasy didn’t do them justice.”
I let my hand smooth down her body until I cupped her. The heat of her blazed against my palm. She whimpered as I stared down at her.
“Beautiful,” I whispered.
She pulled my head down to kiss me. I let her lead, her tongue playing with mine. I slid my finger through her slick center, touching her, claiming her. She moaned low in her throat as I explored her. Learned what made her gasp, arch into my touch, whimper, and moan. I kissed her mouth, suckled her earlobes, licked her neck, gathered her curls in my fist and turned her head, nuzzled at the juncture where her shoulder and neck met, drawing the skin between my teeth and biting down. She ran her hand over my back, clutched at my shoulders, yanked on my hair, and wrapped her legs around my waist, pleading. I slid one finger inside her heat, pumping. I added a second, pressing on her clit with my thumb, making sure to apply the right pressure. She gasped and lifted her hips, moving in tandem with my fingers until she came. Her eyes wide and open, her neck straining, the arch of her back so high it was a graceful bow in the air. I covered her mouth, swallowing her scream, working her until she collapsed, her muscles fluttering around my fingers like small kisses on the digits. I eased back, looking down at her. Her chest was flushed, the skin pink and glowing. Her nipples were red and hard from my mouth. My fingers were still inside her, and as she watched, I withdrew them, then lifted them to my mouth and sucked. “Perfect,” I murmured.