Chapter Nine

One second we're laying back, talking, and the next Clíodhna's hands are everywhere, touching teasing, caressing.

She pulls me to her with a roughness that mirrors our first kiss, but her hands aren't as harsh as the flogs that she subjected me to. But her mouth, fuck, her mouth is nipping and biting its way down from my lips to my navel.

She tugs at my bra. "Take it off, kitten."

"Say please," I tease her, but her eyes darken and I realise that if I don't take it off myself, she's going to rip it off me, and I like this bra.

I don't think I could feel more desired, but when my breasts fall from their perch, heavy, she curses and I'm hit with this sense of longing, the way I felt her grief when she keened.

She's not aware that she's doing it, that much is apparent, but the weight of her desire makes my head spin, and I reach for her.

"You're not touching me," I say, plaintively. "I need you to touch me, Clíodhna."

Her touch is drugging, in the best kind of way, and it is exactly what I need. Her fingers dance across me, painting patterns on the undulating waves of my skin. My body isn't small and delicate. I'm stocky. Fat. And the way she touches me, with such reverence, with such unbridled desire and longing for each and every inch of me, makes me feel seen like never before.

"I love touching you, cuisle mo chroí."

I almost stop then, almost make her take a step back and demand what she means by calling me beat of her heart, but her eyes are shining red and I realise that I don't mind. I don't mind because that's how feel too, as if we're two parts of a whole that have always missed the other.

When she breathes, I breathe.

When she feels, I feel.

I pull at her jacket, her shirt, tugging until buttons bounce off, flying everywhere, but I don't care. The touch of her hands, her mouth, isn't enough. I need to feel her against me.

It doesn't take longer than a moment for her to catch on, and then she sheds her clothes quicker than I could have asked for. Her breasts aren't as big as mine, her body more willow-y, but I don't love it any less.

I pull her down until she's lying on top of me, flush with my body, skin to skin, and I want to see a sheen of sweat upon her, I long to see her so driven by lust that she loses every inch of that control that she's clasping to her so very tightly.

So I bite her. I bite her shoulder, hard, leaving teeth marks and she fists my hair and pulls my head back.

"So, my kitten has teeth. Well, two can play at that game."

I don't know what she means, she's bitten me so much already. My skin is flushed with her bitemarks, from my neck to my ear to the tops of my breasts, but then she bites my nipple and I arch off the bed.

"Still good, kitten? Still green?" There's a taunting tone to her words, but I feel their sincerity as well.

"As if that'd make me safeword," I say, and entangle my fingers in the large bun that her hair is caught up in, urging her up towards me. "You could draw blood and I still wouldn't want to stop."

Her eyes flash red, and she nips at my lips. "I'm going to eat you," Clíodhna declares. I'm going to eat you all up, kitten, until you're begging me to let you come."

"I dare you," I say back, and I am, I'm daring her to enact every fantasy, every wish she's ever had. Because in doing so, she fulfils mine.

I loose her bun, and she moves down my body until she's nestled between my legs.

She breathes onto the gusset of my lingerie and I squirm beneath her attention.

"What's this? How dare it hide you from my gaze!" Hooking a finger into the fabric, she looks up at me and quirks an eyebrow in question. I know what she's asking and I nod.

She rips it.

And then there really is nothing hiding me from her.

Bracing her hands on the inside of my knees, she slowly pushes… so slowly that it feels like torture, and I open up for Clíodhna. I open up for my queen.

Her gaze on my clit feels like a caress, and when she blows gently across my pussy I can tell how wet I am.

I am dripping.

A lone finger runs up the inside of my thigh, and then up and over and around my clit, but she doesn't touch me, not even when my hips angle up and I follow her hand, pleading.

"Patience, kitten," she says, and her eyes betray just how much she's enjoying my neediness. But then all is forgiven because she dips her head and licks me.

If I didn't know any better, I'd have said that sparks flew when she touched my clit. I certainly jump, and her throaty chuckle pins me place. "Stay still, kitten," she whispers against my cunt and then sucks my clit into her mouth and I am undone. I am completely undone. More so than when she had me up on the cross, flogged in front of an eager and hungry audience. More than when she stripped for me. More than I ever thought was possible.

I feel everything dissipate into nothingness, feel myself begin to float away entirely, when she nips my clit and that brings me hurtling back into my body.

Gasping, I look down at her, and she raises her head and smiles, those red eyes glinting. "I'm not going to make you bleed, kitten, but you will feel exquisite torture like never before."

There's no reason to doubt her words, especially when her mouth is on my pussy like this. Clíodhna seems to excel in taking me all the way up to the heavens, and then back down to Earth with a thud again.