Page 37 of Ronan
“That works. Stay right here, okay?”
He pulls the blindfold off of my eyes, and as I blink away the light I see him pulling his mask back down and turning away to go find the bathroom.
God damnit.
Relaxing against the bed, I give myself a moment to do a self-check. My ass feels sore and stretched, my body is peppered in bite marks and little budding bruises, but I’m sated. Maybe for the first time in my life, I’m sated. Boneless, buzzing, and sated. I’m about to fall asleep right here when Night comes back shirtless and only in boxers. “Wake up, sleepy girl.”
He lifts me up and carries me to the bathroom and takes his time cleaning me up. He’s so gentle and caring that it’s almost jarring compared to what we just did, but it feels amazing. This is what I’ve been missing my entire life.
What my brother could never give me when I run to him instead.
I’m warm, content, and exhausted by the time we drain the tub and he gets me into one of his shirts, and once he lays me in bed, I have to fight the urge to cling to him.
“Drink some water, baby girl. You made a mess earlier.”
A little begrudgingly, I sit up enough to down half a bottle and then lay right back down. “If you weren’t done with me, my advice would be to do whatever else you wanted to do now before I fall asleep with your cock in my throat.”
“You think you need to be awake for that?” He chuckles darkly as he sets the water bottle aside, then lays down on the bed with me. “Come pull me out.”
His refractory period should be studied. My limbs feel sluggish as I push myself up and fumble with his boxers, but when I see how hard he is for me again, I get a little bit of a second wind.
I was a brat earlier, so as an apology, I take my time worshipping his cock before anything else. Little kisses here, licks there, letting him hear how much he turns me on.
The noises he makes, the blend of degradation and praise as he orders me to worship his cock and his balls has me wet by the time he’s moving me how he craves, and when he comes he moans out that I’m his good girl.
And that’s it for me.
I don’t even bother pulling off of him after I swallow it all. My cheek finds his thigh and my eyes close, knowing damned well he won’t be here when I wake up.
At least I got this much of him.
15
Just like I suspected, I woke up alone, but that’s not the worst part. The fucker left his mask here along with his sweats and another t-shirt, which means he was probably walking around my apartment without his mask on and I snored through it all. Fucking tease.
As the morning ticks on and I don’t hear from him, I start to get worried. Should I text him first? Is that my job? Is it anyone’s job?
Fuck.
I’m just about to give up and do it when Emma comes into the kitchen looking pissed off. “It’s fucking cold in here. Why?”
Blinking, I look between her and the window. “It’s winter. It’s generally cold thistime of year. When did you get home, anyway?”
“Around seven.” She flips me off with a cheeky smile. “I stayed with Anna last night hoping it would make Orion mad. It worked, he’s been blowing up my phone.”
All I can do is shake my head. I don’t understand why she wants to fight with him all the time, especially when Night proved you can have angry sex without actually being angry. My ass is still so sore that I can’t sit down for more than a few seconds. “I was a little preoccupied so I guess I didn’t notice how cold it is. Turn the heat up.”
“Turn the heat up,” she mocks. “You don’t think I tried that? It’s set on eighty-fucking-two and it hasn’t budged from sixty-fucking-one.” She glances over at it. “I lied, it did budge. It’s now fifty-eight in here.”
Yikes. I guess Night’s sweatpants are warmer than I thought. “It’ll be fine. Probably.”
“Doubtful.” She glances down at her phone and then groans. “Damnit, there’s no way I get any sleep in this cold ass — wait, whose clothes are those?”
“Nightbreed’s. He was here last night.”
“Shut up! So you finally saw his face? What’s his real name? Or are you moaning Nightbreed?”
She laughs at that last question like it’d be ridiculous if I was, but the truth might be worse. With as bitchy as she’s been lately, I’d rather die than admit I call him daddy.
