Page 47 of Cillian

He claimed he loved this view of me. That it turned him into something wild, something I could attest to because he definitely possessed the power to unlock different parts of me. When he took me from behind, I felt like a full-blown sex goddess. I never wanted him to stop thrusting, because once he hit that spot, it would feel so good that I'd want to cry. This time, he kept his pace slow but it still felt dangerously sinful, and every time the length of him stretched my body, I couldn't help but want to give him my release all over again.

“Oh, fuck. Look at yourself, Queenie. Look at yourself being a needy little whore for me.” He lifted my head adjusting my gaze to the mirror, and while it was intimidating, it was strangely erotic to watch as I unfolded at everything he did to me. I didn't say it enough, but I loved every inch of him.

The way his powerful arms held me. The build and strength of his shoulders, chest and stomach, all the way down to his muscular thighs. How his cultural body art added character to his frame. One thing couldn't be denied. He was all man. Dominant. Dangerous and all out masculine, but then there was a soft side of him that cried out to my divine femininity. Even the way he looked at me left me weak in the knees. I couldn't believe that this was my husband and that this was would forever be mine.

“Oh fuck.” A moaned slipped past my lips, as he reached in and to cover his mouth on mine.

“Shhh…Queenie, we can't be too loud, remember?”

“Mmm… I know, it just feels so good,” I whimpered, my heart only stopping at the knocking of the dressing room door.

“Oi, Cilly, you better not be fucking in there. It’s getting too damn quiet and then all of a sudden, I hear a woman's moaning.” He covered my mouth and we shared a laugh as he buried his cock the deepest he could go, his hips grinding salaciously so that I felt him in every direction.

“Hey, of course we're not fucking in here, Órfhlaith. My wife, she's just struggling getting out of these damn dresses. You're gonna wait by the bloody door and listen until we leave or something?

“You must think I'm an eejit. I know what a woman’s moaning sounds like?” she said behind the door, as he withdrew from me and teased me with one slow deep thrust. I bit his hand to stop me from moaning but it was those slow thrusts chipping away at my sanity. This time, a moan did break through.

“Oi, now I know you’re in there shagging! You're gonna make me have to close up my shop.”

“You can't close the shop up for thirty fucking minutes?”

“Ohhhhh….” she shrieked. “I swear, you boys, you have no respect for anything. Not me, not my shop. And just to get your fucking cock wet. You can forget about that family discount I offered you last time. Everything you're getting today is at full price.”

I felt awful. My first time meeting his sister and already with his help, I was getting on her bad side. I'd be sure to offer my sincerest apologies but only after Cillian and I submitted to our weaknesses, and as her steps grew further away, his demand for my silence seemed like a distant memory.

“Oh, baby. Maybe we should stop,” I panted, struggling to catch my breath as he pounded into me.

“Knee deep in your pussy and you're worried about my sister. Now that she knows, there’s no need for me to be quiet anymore and neither should you. Arch your back baby, and let me please you. You won’t feel a lick of shame when you come on my cock.”

Obeying his command, he thrusted his hard cock deeper inside me, sending the present me further and further to a region in outer space. A hard slap on my bottom caused me to gasp sharply, another one following adding a strange sense of pain that added to the pleasure.

“You like it when I slap your arse, Queenie?”

“Mmmhmm,” I moaned, startled by another striking. This time it was the other cheek, a sensation that felt infantilizing, but at the same time delicious. I got spanked as a kid and never felt anything but rage and pain, but now as my man's delectable length pistoned in and out of me, I could only feel waves of pleasure dragging me off of the closest cliff.

“Queenie, you gonna come on my cock, baby?”

“Yes,” I said in a broken moan.

“Then say it. Oh, fuck, darling, I want to hear you say it,” He said, gripping my ass, his cock feeling like heaven inside me.

“I'm gonna come on your cock, baby.” At my declaration he growled, his wild animalistic side claiming any will I had over my body. Blood rushed to my privates, a fresh stream of my gushing arousal coating his demanding length. His body locked in place, thrusting away until he found his path to the Promised Land. Still partly dressed he collapsed on top of me, dressing my moist back and shoulders in rains of kisses. Another knock on the door had mutually shifted our gaze to the fitting room entrance, her energy as if she was going to rush us out her store with a broomstick.

“Ay mate, it's been more than thirty minutes, and if it's all the same to you, I’d like to open my bloody store.

***

“How much?” Cillian questioned, leaning on the front counter. I must have picked out four more dresses and my husband was spoiling me with all of them. I felt so greedy, but figured since we desecrated her fitting room, we might as well make it up for it by buying her out. He handed her two hundred-dollar bills, to which she placed in her register and offered no change?

“Oi, I don't get my change?” She faked a smile, folding the last dress before wrapping it in delicate tissue paper and placing it in one of two bags.

“Not when I had to close my shop. You and the bloody Sullivan curse. Just once I wish you boys would control your need to fuck all the time.”

“You don't have to be such a cunt. Now I've got to waste time driving to the bank,” he scoffed, as I waited until he brought the bags outside to offer an apology.

“I just want to apologize,” I started, shamefully.

“Don't know why. I blame Cillian. For everything. Even before they do it, it’s my brothers’ fault. They always lead with their bloody members. Like stray dogs pestering you for your attention until next thing you know they're sleeping on the edge of your bed. Everything all right, love? You're just staring at me.”

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