Page 27 of Cillian

“I'm not just going to stick it in you. I want to talk to you first.”

“Okay,” I replied, clinging to my towel for dear life.

“I want to know what you like. What you don't like. I’m not a mind reader. You have to tell me when you like something so I can keep doing it. Can you do that for me?” Unable to hold in my bashful smile, I shook my head, unable to agree to that.

“You’re so precious,” he smiled. “But seriously, I want to make it beautiful for you. I want what I make you feel to be all you ever think about. Until the next time I see you and make you feel that way again. So, you have to tell me when you like something.”

“But I don’t know how to say things like that yet,” I modestly defended.

Cillian leaned in close to my ear, his masculine low brogue louder than a whisper, but so incredibly alluring, the walls between my legs clenched before he could even finish. “Then tell me in sounds. If you like the way it feels when I kiss your neck—” he started and proceeded to do just that.

“Just mmm…and I’ll know you like that. All you have to do is mmm…and I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. And when you’re bold enough, you can try whispering it to me. Like this,” as his voice came out softer but boy, was I a puddle underneath him.

“Can you do that for me?” He asked, running his thumb along my lips, admiring their contrast from his.

“Mmmhmm.” I nodded.

“Good. Now take this off.” He insisted, pulling me out of my towel. We fell into a rhythm of kisses, as rolling around back and forth forced me onto my back with his weight constricting my movements.

“I want to kiss your lips.” He said between kisses. “Please let me kiss your lips.” Pleading, desperately this time, I agreed because I thought that he'd already been doing that.

Peppered kisses trailed along my neck, breasts, and tummy, that when he settled, he was pulling my thighs apart, as the heat of his breath unnerved me. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing your lips,” he stated and then he pressed his mouth to my folds, causing me to clench and press my thighs together.

“I thought you wanted to…” I hesitated, hoping he caught the hint without having to say it.

“I do,” he said with kisses to my thighs as he made room for himself between them. “But I want to kiss this too.”

“Cillian we're… I'm not supposed to?—”

“Queenie, if it wasn’t meant to be kissed, it wouldn’t have lips,” he cooed. “Kissing this, turns off this.” He reached to touch my forehead. “Once you feel good, you won’t have time to feel guilty. Don’t you want to feel good?” Leaning up to join our lips together.

“It’ll relax you, I promise. And don’t feel guilty, because I like to,” he reassured, silently convincing me to lie on my back and part my thighs for him. His warm breath did feel nice, even as he kissed and teased the outside.

My knowledge of sex or the acts that accompany it were limited, but if I’d been taught anything, it was that any woman who let a man put his mouth there, was a whore. At first, I thought I could disconnect; pretend it wasn't happening to me. But when Cillian slipped his tongue between my folds, my mouth parted in tandem.

“You taste so good, baby,” he hummed, lowly laughing at my thighs spreading wider for him. His hands reached out for my hands to squeeze, but truthfully, I was the one doing most of the squeezing, unprepared for the shift in rhythm.

“Mmm…” Unable to hold back a whimper, as his concentrated strokes turned into a bobbing face prepared to devour me whole.

His fingers had felt heavenly, but something about his tongue gave me less control. It was like a muscle that shaped and molded to every curve, something a finger didn’t have the instinct to do.

So embarrassed to how much I was enjoying it, I couldn’t even look him in the eye. Every suck, every slurp, every stroke stripped me of my initial reluctance. It wasn’t long before I was arching my back, his eager mouth following my every squirm.

“Mmm…” My moans coming out sharper, my hands instinctively reaching for the back of his head to steady myself, but also predict his change in pace.

Every mmm…became less controlled, pants that sounded willing but desperate. Greedy hands reached out to grabs my breasts and before I knew it, my thighs had locked Cillian in a death grip I should not have been so comfortable trapping him in.

I couldn’t help it. Whatever I was supposed to be feeling, I was so close to it. Ripples of pleasure rushed to my sex, as my walls clenched down on me, overwhelmed by his lapping tongue violently bringing me to climax.

Trying to wriggle away, Cillian hummed an “umm-umm” as he locked me in place to force me to ride the wave until I was too sensitive to fight him. My thighs locked him in place again, as even in my torture, my body lost control, succumbing to crashing hard all over his eager tongue.

My legs were putty. I couldn’t think. My breath was finally catching and I saw stars when I shouldn’t have. When Cillian finally lifted his mouth from me, he ran his tongue across one of my inner thighs before planting a singular kiss back to my sex. “I assume that felt good,” wearing an arrogant smile.

“I shouldn’t like things like that. I’m supposed to turn things down like that,” I admitted shamefully.

“Don't let no one make you feel ashamed that you like to getting your pussy licked on,” he argued, and then he leaned up and kissed me.

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