Page 52 of Fight
“And ice packs. I went to the drugstore and got the kind that are little gel balls that freeze, not just cubes of ice. Ice cubes melt so fast, you know?”
My words were coming out in a rush, one I seemed incapable of stopping. “I also got ibuprofen. Let me see what else.”
I tapped my chin, my scattered thoughts making it hard to focus on anything. Or maybe I couldn’t focus because of the way Ioan watched, silent, menacing, beautiful.
“Yeah!” I said, moving toward the cabinets now. “I got some antiseptic cream in case you have cuts. You know, so they won’t get infected.”
I held the tube in shaky fingers and went to him, ignoring common sense, and then forgetting it even existed when I reached for one of his hands.
His sharp intake of breath stilled me for a split second, but I pushed on, examining his hand in the dim light. “I don’t see any cuts. There’s some swelling, but nothing an ice pack won’t fix. Let me—”
“I don’t need ice.”
It was the first time he’d spoken since he came back, and I recognized his voice, realized I had missed it. I also heard something in it, something dark, almost feral, and the sound alone made my sex clench.
As I held his hand, I slowly lifted my gaze over his stomach, the tight shirt molding to the outline of his abs, over his pecs, up until I met his eyes. They were still shadowed by darkness, but my desire deepened, as did my trepidation.
“Wh-what do you need?” I asked.
His mouth crashing down on mine was the answer.
He kissed me hard, his lips roughly moving against mine before he pushed his tongue into my mouth, our teeth clashing with the fervor of his kiss.
The hand I still held clenched into a tighter fist, he lifted the other and anchored it at the nape of my neck, holding me still. And to my surprise, I didn’t try to move, didn’t even want to. What I wanted was this, to yield to him, give him whatever he wanted, give it how he wanted.
Then he broke the kiss, and stared down at me. I couldn’t form words, but I hoped he could see my desire, my submission, in my face.
When he ripped his hand from mine and reached for my breasts, I knew he had. He kneaded them roughly, touching me with little care and no finesse, the touch all the more arousing for the desperate hunger in it.
I was faintly aware of the sound of my shirt ripping and then the cool air against my skin as he pulled it from my body. He did the same with my bra and then caught my nipple in his mouth as his other hand squeezed, moving from my breast, down my waist, against my back.
I squeaked when he nipped my nipple with his teeth, the sharp little sting of pain somehow intensifying the pleasure that flooded through me.
My body was on fire from both the pleasure he gave me with his touch, and the pleasure at giving myself to him. I squirmed, my pussy throbbing in earnest. But I wouldn’t ask for anything. I didn’t know what I wanted, not exactly, and more importantly, giving to Ioan, allowing him to take me however he wanted would give me more pleasure than anything I could conjure.
His hand left my body, and I watched him as he moved it to his waistband and pushed his shorts down.
I huffed at the sight of his hard cock, his length and thickness intimidating, the fact that I had at least a part in making him respond so filling my heart with warmth.
But I wanted more than my heart filled.
Looking at him, his veined shaft jerking without being touched, clear liquid pouring from his crown in a steady stream left me desperate to feel that thickness inside me, have it take up the empty space inside me. It would hurt, but the pain would fade, and a little pain would be worth having Ioan soothe that insistent thud that beat between my legs in time with my heart.
He had other ideas. His hand was insistent at my shoulder as he pushed me down. I went eagerly if not gracefully, the delicious thrill of being on my knees in front of him adding a jerky edge to my movements. Before I could stop it, my mind flashed back to those awful weeks ago when I’d been in this position, and instantly, I realized how different this was. It seemed unimaginable, but I wanted this, wanted him, more than my next breath.
His cock was mere inches from my face, and for a moment I stared, then breathed in deep, the spicy masculine scent of him making my cunt clench tight.
And then he was against my mouth, the skin of his crown like velvet against my lips, the drops of precum he left behind burning. On instinct, and with the undeniable urge to taste him, I snaked my tongue out of my mouth and ran it over my bottom lip.
His salty taste exploded against my taste buds, foreign but delicious, and I licked my bottom lip again, moaning as I tasted his addicting flavor. I wanted more, so after a final swipe of my lips, I moved to his crown and rasped my tongue against his slit.
Even more of his flavor exploded against my taste buds, and I lapped at him greedily, collecting each drop that spilled from him.
His hand on my neck stilled me, and I lifted heavy-lidded eyes. He was still half in shadow, and not seeing his face sent my already wet pussy flooding. I squeezed my thighs together, sighing when my soaked sex brushed against my wet panties.
Ioan tightened his hand on my neck and then thrust. His cock pushed between my lips and I opened further to receive him, greedy for him, needing to feel him, taste him. I couldn’t take him all, not at first, but he kept thrusting in and out, each move sending him a little deeper into my mouth.
I was near delirious with need, had never felt so vulnerable, so powerful, so wanted as I did with Ioan’s cock in my mouth, his hard thighs under my hands.