Page 42 of Formula Dreams
“You’ve got to work for it,” I gasp as a thumb grazes my nipple.“The sweeter the reward.”
He lifts his head, eyes locked on mine.I stare back with challenge as he studies me.His expression is inscrutable, but I’m worried there’s hesitation on his part.I need to ensure he doesn’t get cold feet.
“Do that thing to my nipple again,” I demand, and just like that, the heat in his eyes goes nuclear.
“Maybe later,” he taunts as his mouth reclaims mine.He unhooks my bra with one hand and slides it off with a deliberate slowness that sends heat flooding through me.I tug at his shirt, impatient, but he bats my hands away and strips it off himself.
Jesus.
I’ve seen Ronan dressed in high fashion and I’ve seen him in fireproof layers, soaked in sweat.But half-naked Ronan, all lean strength and tension, muscles carved to perfection—he’s a work of art.
I run my hands down his chest, grazing every ridge of him.I brush past his hipbone, thrilling at his stutter of breath.
“You’re staring,” he says, voice low.
“Can you blame me?”
He smirks, but it fades when I start working on his belt.My fingers tremble, not from nerves but because I want him too badly.
He curses under his breath and brushes my hands aside.“Let me.”
He undoes his jeans and then turns his attention to me—his hands sliding down my hips to the waistband of my pants.He doesn’t ask permission because he doesn’t need to.I lift my hips, and he pulls them down in one smooth motion, taking my underwear along the way.
Cool air brushes over my thighs, sweet relief on my heated skin.
Ronan adjusts his position, kneels between my legs, and looks at me like he’s going to eat me alive.Then he drops down and buries his face between my thighs.My head snaps back with a cry I don’t have the inclination to muffle.
His mouth is hot, his tongue devastating, and the sound he makes as he licks into me sends a violent shiver up my spine.
“Ronan… fuck…!”I choke out, hips lifting off the mattress seeking more friction, but his hands pin me down.
He doesn’t say anything.Just groans again and presses deeper, licking and sucking like he’s starving and I’m his first taste of anything real in years.
I grab fistfuls of the sheets, of his hair, of anything I can reach, trying to ground myself, but it’s a fight I’ll lose.
When he slides a finger inside me, I arch like I’ve been shocked and my hips rock without my permission.Ronan seems to like my reaction because a deep chuckle rumbles against my sensitive skin.
He keeps pace, just like any good formula driver would, adding another finger, curling right as he licks over my clit again and again.My body is winding so tight I don’t know how much longer I can hold.
“Please, Ronan,” I pant, “don’t stop—”
He doesn’t.
And I break.
Hard.
My orgasm crashes through me like a storm-frothed wave, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my everything.My hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in, and I cry out again, shameless and loud and completely undone.
And he holds me there, tongue still moving gently, fingers still inside me, until I’ve got nothing left to give.I’m still trembling when he finally eases back, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to my inner thigh.My breath is jagged, my legs weak, and my heart thuds against my ribs like it’s trying to outrun whatever the hell just happened.
Ronan rises slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and the look in his eyes…
God.
It’s hunger and reverence and a need even darker.My heart twists because behind all that lies something more fragile.
“Come here,” I whisper, reaching for him.
