Kiss My Cupcake(65)

I’m teetering on the edge, barely hanging on. “Listen to you, wanting more when you’ve come twice already.”

“I know, I know, but it’s so good. Please, Ronan.”

“Better work fast,” I warn.

I try to think of something, anything to stop the inevitable, but Blaire’s lip is caught between her teeth, pressing in hard, and her fingers are moving at a furious pace between her legs, as if she’s trying to light a damn fire.

I thrust one last time before the orgasm rockets down my spine, and I explode. That sensation is magnified a thousandfold when Blaire contracts around me.

My legs threaten to give out, so I lean against the counter, letting it take some of my weight while I regain the ability to function. Blaire runs her fingers through my hair.

Eventually I lift my head and kiss a path up her shoulder to her mouth.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She nibbles my bottom lip. “So that was fun.”

I laugh, which makes her gasp and clench and my chuckle turns into a groan as I slowly ease out. I remove the condom, tie it off and toss it in the garbage by the sink. “You’re gonna stay the night, right?”

She blows out a breath. “Well, I mean, it’s probably a good idea since I’ve been pretty greedy and I think we probably need to even out the orgasm totals so I’m not winning by such a wide margin.”





chapter seventeen





After the Orgasms


Blaire



I wake up to Ronan wrapped around me, although it’s the sound of a phone ringing that drags me out of the delicious sleep haze. Based on the tone, it’s not mine.

“Ronan?”

He grunts and shifts his hips.

I’m not entirely convinced he’s awake.

His tattooed arm is wrapped around me, his forearm across my chest, his hand tucked under my shoulder, fingers curling around the back. I think we’ve been spooning the entire night.

While I can certainly believe last night happened because the attraction is strong with this one, what I didn’t expect, and maybe should have, was exactly what kind of lover Ronan would be. Demanding, intense, giving, and insanely attentive.

We stumbled into his bed at four in the morning, and I would have gone to sleep wearing those steel-toed boots if he hadn’t been lucid enough to take them off for me. I did not have a chance to make good on my promise to even out our orgasms because we promptly passed out.

I crane my neck to check the clock on the nightstand. It’s already one in the afternoon. That’s not a huge surprise, given the ridiculous time we went to bed or the fact that we’ve both been running on a massive sleep deficit.

Regardless, sleeping the entire day away seems like a waste, since I have so few free ones. I wiggle around in Ronan’s arm and he mutters something about being impatient and greedy and nuzzles into my neck.

His phone goes off again, and then again a minute later. Someone is clearly trying to get hold of him.

“Ronan, your phone keeps going off.”

“I’m not awake.” His raspy sleep voice does tingly things to my body, specifically in the area between my thighs.

“Then how come you’re talking to me?”

“I’m not. You’re dreaming.”

I laugh and he rubs up against me.

“I can go get your phone for you so you don’t have to leave this bed,” I offer.

“No.”

I try another tactic. “I need to use the bathroom, and when I come back I can help even out the lopsided orgasm tally from last night.”

He releases me from his hold, rolls onto his back, and throws the covers off, giving me a great view of how excited he is about that prospect. “We’ll be right here waiting for you.”

Muscles ache that I didn’t even know existed. And my tailbone is sore, probably from the counter sex. I use the bathroom first, then go in search of his phone. I find it on the edge of the kitchen counter; it looks as if we very nearly knocked it onto the floor last night. It starts ringing again on my way back to the bedroom.

“Six missed calls in the past twenty minutes. I think you should probably answer before we get sidetracked with extracurriculars.” I toss the phone on the bed beside him.

He eyes it like it’s a poisonous spider. He’s ridiculously appealing, lying in bed, hair sleep-messed, pillow lines on his cheek, body art on display. I want to spend some time exploring all the designs and learning what each one means. After morning sex. Or afternoon sex, as it were. I climb back into bed and snuggle into his warm body. He slips his arm under me and pulls me closer. His lips find my temple as he glances at his phone.

“Oh shit, it’s after one?” Ronan brings the device to his ear. “Hey, brother, I know I’m late. I’m sorry. It was a busy night and I slept in.” He’s silent for a few seconds. “I just woke up. Give me an hour and start without me if you need to, but save me a few of the cinnamon raisin ones, please. No, fuck off. And I’m bringing a friend.” He ends the call and tosses his phone on the nightstand.

“What’s going on?”

“We have to go to Gramps’s place in a bit.”

“We?”

“Yeah, you’re coming with. It’s a family tradition that we get together on New Year’s Day. I was supposed to be there at noon, but forgot to set my alarm. I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the day. But first, orgasms.”