Celt. (Den of Mercenaries #2)(35)

The tension that pooled there only grew stronger as he finally settled between her legs, his gaze shooting up to hers. The toe-curling smile he offered her was downright sinful, a promise of what was to come.

“So f*cking wet and slippery,” he said on a husky whisper, rubbing over her once again, his fingers glistening with her arousal. And as he sank his fingers back into her, her body gradually accepting the intrusion, he groaned, a harsh sound that made her clench around him. “And so f*cking tight. I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock.”

And as she was helpless to do nothing more than accept the pleasure he was giving her, she was already thinking of him climbing up her body and sinking into her.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, the words sliding over her like molten lava.

Unable to touch him, she took up handfuls of her sheets, needing to anchor herself. “I want you inside me,” she said on a broken moan, desperate and pleading.

“I am inside you, lovie,” he said with a smile in his voice, twisting his fingers back and forth to get his point across.

“Kyrnon …”

“But I don’t think that’s what you want at all,” he said, his gaze flickering up to hers. “I think you want to come.”

Plunging his fingers deep, he used his thumb to rub at her clit, coaxing her to rock her hips and take more of what he was offering.

She was so sure she was going to explode in that moment, but just as she reached that peak, he pulled his fingers free and removed his touch entirely.

“Wha—”

But before she could utter a word, his mouth was on her.

It wasn’t that he was using the broad side of his tongue to lick every inch of her, or that he then used just the tip to flick across her clit that made her mindless beneath him.

No, it was his own grunt of pleasure, the way his own hips seemed to thrust against the bed, like he was desperately trying to ease his own ache. It made her burn hotter, until she was panting with need, not caring in the slightest that she was moaning his name over and over again.

“Come on, give me what I want,” he said a moment before he sucked her clit into his mouth, and before she knew it, she was seeing stars.

Her body seized tight before she came, her fingers holding tight to him, a scream working its way up her throat. She hadn’t even stopped shaking yet before he was pushing up, grabbing tight to her thighs as he yanked her down the bed until her legs cradled him.

His chest heaved with the force of his breaths as he shoved his boxer-briefs down, releasing that thick, straining erection of his. Wrapping his fist around it, tighter than she would have thought comfortable, he stroked it slow and easy, a strangled moan leaving him.

“I’m not going to f*cking last with you.”

But he didn’t seem to care about that, not when he aligned his cock with her dripping slit and thrust against her. It was meant to be just a taste, a hint of what was to come, but she didn’t know who was more impatient for what was to come.

Reaching across the edge of the bed, he snatched his jeans off the floor, digging a condom packet from his pocket. Tossing them to the side once he was finished, he made quick work of getting the condom open, then rolled the latex over and down his length.

Looking up at him, he looked like a god over her, strong and unyielding. The glow of the moon illuminated his skin, the shadows making the contours of his body seem sharper. Beneath him she felt small, delicate … she felt like a woman.

His eyes on her sex, he stroked himself once, twice, then the broad, latex-covered head of his cock was pressed against her opening a moment before he was plunging inside, all the way to the hilt.

A shudder worked its way down his body as he cursed low and harsh, the grip he had on her thighs almost painful.

But it was a good pain.

A pain that had her throbbing around him.

Though he had seemed desperate to get inside her moments before, he didn’t give way to hard thrusts, but gave shallow pumps of his hips. “Fuck yes,” he groaned. “You’re so f*cking tight, so f*cking good.”

He was buried as deep as he could go, and too soon, he was pulling out, just until it was the tip inside her before he was thrusting back in, harder than before.

One arm slid beneath her, his palm lying flat on the small of her back, even as he balanced his weight on his other arm, the muscles in it standing out in stark relief.

Whatever control he seemed to have, snapped as he used his hold on her to force her to meet his brutal thrusts, urging her faster and faster still. He uttered sharp, guttural commands as he f*cked her, telling her how good she looked wrapped around him, how he was about to f*cking spill before he was ready.

It was too much.

The way he f*cked her.

The way he whispered dirty things in her ear, seeming to thrill in making her cry out in ecstasy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as his thrusts sped up, harsh broken groans leaving him as he impaled her with his cock.

Amber was lost, so f*cking lost in the sensations he was inspiring inside of her that she knew the orgasm she was hurtling towards would be the strongest she’d ever had.

“Come,” he growled in her ear, his thrusts frenzied and hurried as he was caught up in his own waves. “Fucking come for me, Amber.”

She had no choice but to obey, giving in to the bliss that she had been denied so long. She came screaming his name, clenching so tight around him that he planted himself inside her and let himself go.