Page 28 of Cillian

“It did feel good. It's just…where I'm from, or where my parents are from, the only women who lets a man put his mouth there gets labeled is easy.”

“And for good reason.” He smiled, rubbing his hands between all his aftermath. “Because the thighs and pussy open up easier after you’ve come from it.”

“I feel like I just did something bad.”

“That’s because you did. But you only did it for me. I love eating pussy. I'll eat that shit all night, as long as it feels good. Did it make you feel good?” He leaned in, kissing the inside of my neck, running his big calloused hands over my body until he settled on my nipple to pinch.

“I want to keep that body coming and coming. And just when you think you can't anymore, I want you to come again,” he said in tandem with his kisses, his strong hands all over my body. His dick rested right above me, heavy and hovering just over my stomach.

“Would you like if you just kept coming? Dripping of you. Dripping of me. Until you can't tell which one is me and which one is you?” Hilted gasps were all I could manage, as he squared his hips to mine, looking in my eyes as he coated his dick with all my juices, stroking but never piercing the entrance.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispered, unable to hide his desperation through his breathing. “Bury myself so deep in that pussy, no one will be able to come after me. Would you like that?”

Even in such a feral moment, his eyes were strangely gentle, waiting for me to say yes, or nod, or give him any confirmation to keep going. Leaning up, he outstretched my legs over his shoulders before positioning his length against my folds.

“Hey, look at me. Eyes on me.” As I hadn’t even noticed I’d closed my eyes until he commanded me not to. Cillian’s warm gaze guided me through him thrusting his length and weight past my apex. Deep sighs passed our lips as we were both affected by that first thrust.

Instinctively, I reached for his hips to stop him from going further, as he leaned into kiss me, sitting up to withdraw some of himself. “Am I hurting you?” he tucked his lips, choosing only shallow thrusts until my body adjusted.

“I know you're not trying to,” I said, as he took one of my hands to squeeze.

“I’ll go slow. Gentle. Okay?” He said under his breath matching his words to his actions. “You feel so nice baby.” He bit his lip, sitting up so his weight didn’t lock me to the bed.

“Okay?” Not knowing what else to say. An inch at a time, he’d test my depth, as a wince would have him withdrawing, until he found the perfect threshold.

“I'm so glad we just get to feel each other,” he panted through a jagged breath. My eyes closed again, trying to deal with the feeling of pressure and heat, Cillian’s deep thrusts filling me to the hilt.

“Can you look at me?” Cillian pleaded. Cillian’s freckled skin dampened with a light coat of sweat, his pale skin flexing in effort to keep my legs on his shoulders. “I like it better when we look at each other.”

His blue eyes studied me, drank me in with every effort to learn what could improve my experience, as he wanted my feeling of being lost to be lost with him.

“What do you fancy better?” He slow rolled his hips, filling me, nibbling at my ankles until he leaned forward to adjust his weight against me. Grinding and thrusting his hips through gritted teeth, I opened my thighs to him, desperate to pull him close.

“This,” I whispered, as he kissed me softly.

“I like this, too,” he panted. The more he thrusted, the more my body accepted. It was a strange feeling. I could never say without it I felt empty, but every time he withdrew, it was like something was missing.

Blinded by the throes of passion, I barely registered how fast he was going, how jagged his breaths were or how rough he was thrusting until he moaned God's name in vain. His body relaxed against mine drenched in sweat, as it took a moment for him to come down.

Had he fallen asleep? Wriggling his hips ever so slightly, he leaned in to kiss me on the forehead, until that trail of kisses led to each side of my face. “You okay?” He asked in a heavy sigh. A curt nod followed.

“You sure?”

“Mmmhmm.” He studied my face, bit his lip and concluded that he had gotten there but I'd fallen short in his effort.

“You didn't, did you?” I shook my head hoping that didn't embarrass him. “That's okay, I can get there again with you.”

“I don't think I was ready.” I half-smiled.

“I can just touch you until we're both ready. That way we can come together. Okay?”

“Okay.” Once he pulled himself out of me, strangely, I was already missed him. That length, that warmth, that strength.

He bit his lip admiring the cum that spilled out with his withdrawal. Rubbing the outside of my pussy, he dipped his fingers in my mouth just for a chance to taste him.

“I love the way my cum looks dripping out of that tight little pussy,” he bragged, following up by asking if it was okay to stick his fingers inside me.

“Look at this tight little hole,” he said, almost to himself before slipping another finger and bringing his mouth to my sex.

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