Chapter 12

Twelve

Q ueenie

Breathless. Weightless. Helpless, but in a good way. The safety of Cillian's arms made me feel all those things. His kiss made me feel even better, like I was lost but found in the same breath, as his touch made me enjoy things should brought guilt.

I should have felt dirty, but I didn't. My body should have been repulsed by him, but it was anything but. It was as if I were alive for the first time. Like the way a man should have made a woman feel.

" Mmm …this is what you do to me," Cillian murmured between kisses guiding my hand to his length.

"Does that hurt?" Curious, having never seen a naked man before. He laughed low under his breath like he wasn't used to being asked that.

"No, it doesn't hurt," he said with a tuck of his lip. "It definitely doesn't hurt." He clarified once more standing to retrieve something from his dresser, forcing me to watch his robust frame and healthy behind.

I didn't know white men had nice backsides. He must have had strong legs and hips. All of a sudden, that made me nervous how he would handle me. He'd let me cover myself up with a towel once we got out of the shower but I was sure he'd do away with it once he returned back to the bed.

"What's that?" I pursed my lip, praying my anxiety didn't show.

"It's a rubber. Figured you'd…you know? Want me to wear one."

"Do you want to wear one?" I asked, not knowing how this thing worked, I just wanted to understand it better.

"Queenie, I want to do what you want to do." With no pushback, Cillian allowed me to slip the package from his hand to the dresser.

"Can we do it without one? At least for the first time?"

"Queenie, I want to feel you. But if I feel you for the first time, I ain't going back to not feeling you."

"Okay." As a second of awkward movement eased into gradually phasing into the right position.

"I'm not just going to stick it in you. I want to talk to you first."

"Okay," I replied, clinging to my towel for dear life.

"I want to know what you like. What you don't like. I'm not a mind reader. You have to tell me when you like something so I can keep doing it. Can you do that for me?" Unable to hold in my bashful smile, I shook my head, unable to agree to that.

"You're so precious," he smiled. "But seriously, I want to make it beautiful for you. I want what I make you feel to be all you ever think about. Until the next time I see you and make you feel that way again. So, you have to tell me when you like something."

"But I don't know how to say things like that yet," I modestly defended.

Cillian leaned in close to my ear, his masculine low brogue louder than a whisper, but so incredibly alluring, the walls between my legs clenched before he could even finish. "Then tell me in sounds. If you like the way it feels when I kiss your neck—" he started and proceeded to do just that.

"Just mmm …and I'll know you like that. All you have to do is mmm …and I'll keep doing what I'm doing. And when you're bold enough, you can try whispering it to me. Like this," as his voice came out softer but boy, was I a puddle underneath him.

"Can you do that for me?" He asked, running his thumb along my lips, admiring their contrast from his.

"Mmmhmm." I nodded.

"Good. Now take this off." He insisted, pulling me out of my towel. We fell into a rhythm of kisses, as rolling around back and forth forced me onto my back with his weight constricting my movements.

"I want to kiss your lips." He said between kisses. " Please let me kiss your lips." Pleading, desperately this time, I agreed because I thought that he'd already been doing that.

Peppered kisses trailed along my neck, breasts, and tummy, that when he settled, he was pulling my thighs apart, as the heat of his breath unnerved me. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing your lips," he stated and then he pressed his mouth to my folds, causing me to clench and press my thighs together.

"I thought you wanted to…" I hesitated, hoping he caught the hint without having to say it.

"I do," he said with kisses to my thighs as he made room for himself between them. "But I want to kiss this too."

"Cillian we're… I'm not supposed to?—"

"Queenie, if it wasn't meant to be kissed, it wouldn't have lips," he cooed. "Kissing this , turns off this." He reached to touch my forehead. "Once you feel good, you won't have time to feel guilty. Don't you want to feel good?" Leaning up to join our lips together.

"It'll relax you, I promise. And don't feel guilty, because I like to," he reassured, silently convincing me to lie on my back and part my thighs for him. His warm breath did feel nice, even as he kissed and teased the outside.

My knowledge of sex or the acts that accompany it were limited, but if I'd been taught anything, it was that any woman who let a man put his mouth there, was a whore. At first, I thought I could disconnect; pretend it wasn't happening to me. But when Cillian slipped his tongue between my folds, my mouth parted in tandem.

"You taste so good, baby," he hummed, lowly laughing at my thighs spreading wider for him. His hands reached out for my hands to squeeze, but truthfully, I was the one doing most of the squeezing, unprepared for the shift in rhythm.

"Mmm…" Unable to hold back a whimper, as his concentrated strokes turned into a bobbing face prepared to devour me whole.

His fingers had felt heavenly, but something about his tongue gave me less control. It was like a muscle that shaped and molded to every curve, something a finger didn't have the instinct to do.

So embarrassed to how much I was enjoying it, I couldn't even look him in the eye. Every suck, every slurp, every stroke stripped me of my initial reluctance. It wasn't long before I was arching my back, his eager mouth following my every squirm.

"Mmm…" My moans coming out sharper, my hands instinctively reaching for the back of his head to steady myself, but also predict his change in pace.

Every mmm…became less controlled, pants that sounded willing but desperate. Greedy hands reached out to grabs my breasts and before I knew it, my thighs had locked Cillian in a death grip I should not have been so comfortable trapping him in.

I couldn't help it. Whatever I was supposed to be feeling, I was so close to it. Ripples of pleasure rushed to my sex, as my walls clenched down on me, overwhelmed by his lapping tongue violently bringing me to climax.

Trying to wriggle away, Cillian hummed an "umm-umm" as he locked me in place to force me to ride the wave until I was too sensitive to fight him. My thighs locked him in place again, as even in my torture, my body lost control, succumbing to crashing hard all over his eager tongue.

My legs were putty. I couldn't think. My breath was finally catching and I saw stars when I shouldn't have. When Cillian finally lifted his mouth from me, he ran his tongue across one of my inner thighs before planting a singular kiss back to my sex. "I assume that felt good," wearing an arrogant smile.

"I shouldn't like things like that. I'm supposed to turn things down like that," I admitted shamefully.

"Don't let no one make you feel ashamed that you like to getting your pussy licked on," he argued, and then he leaned up and kissed me.

"It did feel good. It's just…where I'm from, or where my parents are from, the only women who lets a man put his mouth there gets labeled is easy."

"And for good reason." He smiled, rubbing his hands between all his aftermath. "Because the thighs and pussy open up easier after you've come from it."

"I feel like I just did something bad."

"That's because you did. But you only did it for me. I love eating pussy. I'll eat that shit all night, as long as it feels good. Did it make you feel good?" He leaned in, kissing the inside of my neck, running his big calloused hands over my body until he settled on my nipple to pinch.

"I want to keep that body coming and coming. And just when you think you can't anymore, I want you to come again," he said in tandem with his kisses, his strong hands all over my body. His dick rested right above me, heavy and hovering just over my stomach.

"Would you like if you just kept coming? Dripping of you. Dripping of me. Until you can't tell which one is me and which one is you?" Hilted gasps were all I could manage, as he squared his hips to mine, looking in my eyes as he coated his dick with all my juices, stroking but never piercing the entrance.

"I want to be inside you," he whispered, unable to hide his desperation through his breathing. "Bury myself so deep in that pussy, no one will be able to come after me. Would you like that?"

Even in such a feral moment, his eyes were strangely gentle, waiting for me to say yes, or nod, or give him any confirmation to keep going. Leaning up, he outstretched my legs over his shoulders before positioning his length against my folds.

"Hey, look at me. Eyes on me." As I hadn't even noticed I'd closed my eyes until he commanded me not to. Cillian's warm gaze guided me through him thrusting his length and weight past my apex. Deep sighs passed our lips as we were both affected by that first thrust.

Instinctively, I reached for his hips to stop him from going further, as he leaned into kiss me, sitting up to withdraw some of himself. "Am I hurting you?" he tucked his lips, choosing only shallow thrusts until my body adjusted.

"I know you're not trying to," I said, as he took one of my hands to squeeze.

"I'll go slow. Gentle. Okay?" He said under his breath matching his words to his actions. "You feel so nice baby." He bit his lip, sitting up so his weight didn't lock me to the bed.

"Okay?" Not knowing what else to say. An inch at a time, he'd test my depth, as a wince would have him withdrawing, until he found the perfect threshold.

"I'm so glad we just get to feel each other," he panted through a jagged breath. My eyes closed again, trying to deal with the feeling of pressure and heat, Cillian's deep thrusts filling me to the hilt.

"Can you look at me?" Cillian pleaded. Cillian's freckled skin dampened with a light coat of sweat, his pale skin flexing in effort to keep my legs on his shoulders. "I like it better when we look at each other."

His blue eyes studied me, drank me in with every effort to learn what could improve my experience, as he wanted my feeling of being lost to be lost with him.

"What do you fancy better?" He slow rolled his hips, filling me, nibbling at my ankles until he leaned forward to adjust his weight against me. Grinding and thrusting his hips through gritted teeth, I opened my thighs to him, desperate to pull him close.

"This," I whispered, as he kissed me softly.

"I like this, too," he panted. The more he thrusted, the more my body accepted. It was a strange feeling. I could never say without it I felt empty, but every time he withdrew, it was like something was missing.

Blinded by the throes of passion, I barely registered how fast he was going, how jagged his breaths were or how rough he was thrusting until he moaned God's name in vain. His body relaxed against mine drenched in sweat, as it took a moment for him to come down.

Had he fallen asleep? Wriggling his hips ever so slightly, he leaned in to kiss me on the forehead, until that trail of kisses led to each side of my face. "You okay?" He asked in a heavy sigh. A curt nod followed.

"You sure?"

"Mmmhmm." He studied my face, bit his lip and concluded that he had gotten there but I'd fallen short in his effort.

"You didn't, did you?" I shook my head hoping that didn't embarrass him. "That's okay, I can get there again with you."

"I don't think I was ready." I half-smiled.

"I can just touch you until we're both ready. That way we can come together. Okay?"

"Okay." Once he pulled himself out of me, strangely, I was already missed him. That length, that warmth, that strength.

He bit his lip admiring the cum that spilled out with his withdrawal. Rubbing the outside of my pussy, he dipped his fingers in my mouth just for a chance to taste him.

"I love the way my cum looks dripping out of that tight little pussy," he bragged, following up by asking if it was okay to stick his fingers inside me.

"Look at this tight little hole," he said, almost to himself before slipping another finger and bringing his mouth to my sex.

"Mmm." He moaned into my lips, showing how much he enjoyed being there. "I'm gonna work you up. But you can't come yet. I just wanted to taste you when you're covered in me." He bragged again, before sitting up, cradled up against me, his chest against my back.

"Shit, I love this tight, little fucking pussy. I need it to come on my cock," he groaned, his hitched breaths feral as he teased me until my legs spread wider for him. Cillian took that as a sign that I was close, mounted me, then proceeded to flip me over so that I was on top of him.

"This feel good, baby?"

"Mmmm…"

"You gonna come like a little whore for me?" His words surprising, though not maliciously spoken.

"Is that what you want me to be?" I asked him through a kiss.

"I want you to want to be. Especially if it's just for me." It was the way he ended with for me that made it sound less degrading. What was wrong with being a little bad when it was only for him? Seemed that was what men sought out anyway.

They convince themselves they didn't, but given how many of the male members in my family had been unfaithful, they're always attracted to women sexually available to them. This man was my husband, he wasn't just some stranger to me anymore.

He was my protection. My knight. The darkness I never got to reveal inside myself until him. If he wanted me to be his whore, I could give him what he wanted, so long as he continued to make me feel this damn good.

"Yes," I cried.

"I want to hear you say it. Tell me you're gonna come like a little whore for me."

"Mmm…" I murmured, my body succumbing to pleasure as I rode him to my best ability, letting him take the lead as he thrusted ferociously from below.

"I'm gonna come like a little whore for you," I whispered, as he surprised me when he grabbed my neck, our collective panting and thrusts bringing us both into another release.

Perhaps he was used to this kind of thing, but physically I was spent. All I had was the energy to just lay on his chest, melting into him as I leaned in for a kiss.

"You're so perfect, Queenie. So fucking perfect," He whispered low amidst kisses, and somehow, someway, we managed to fit into the curve of each other's angles and find peace within our flaws.