Page 117 of Tiny Fractures

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Page 117 of Tiny Fractures

He shakes his head. “Not really. And even if it did, it’s completely worth it.”

I glide my fingers down his cheek to his lip. It’s still a little swollen where Adam hit him and split Ronan’s skin open. Seeing the physical sacrifice Ronan made to keep me safe from Adam sends a rush of longing through me, and I crash my lips against Ronan’s without warning. I feel his hand tightening on my hip, his fingers digging into my skin, and he pulls me even closer against him. We’re both so pent up with tension from today, and right now all I need is for him to touch me, to make me forget, and I want to do the same for him.

I part my lips and his tongue delves into my mouth, exploring, tasting me, licking my lips. He pushes me back against the bed, positioning himself to hover over me, his forearms on either side of me. His hand moves down my waist and over the apple of my hip to my thigh, then he slides it over my jeans and between my legs. I can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, and it’s enough to make me moan.

“Ran, can you touch me like you did last night?” I whimper.

“Are you sure?” he breathes against my mouth, his chest rising and falling fitfully.

“Uh-huh,” I moan again.

He moves his hand and pulls my thighs apart, then situates one leg between them, pushing it against me. I gratefully grind against him while his left hand pushes my shirt up over my bra, leaving a scorching-hot path where his fingers touch my hyper-sensitive skin.

I run my hands under his shirt and up his back, eager to memorize his taut muscles. I pull his shirt over his head and his hands momentarily leave my body so I can pull his shirt off him. I incline onto my elbows, my mouth leaving his lips, hungry to taste him as I kiss his jaw, then neck. He groans when I reach his shoulder, my hand in his hair, tugging at the roots as I pull him down to me. He rubs his leg against me while his left hand slides up my bare stomach and to my breast and I thrust against him again, wanting his hands all over me. He cups my breast while I kiss his shoulder, then his hand moves up and he pulls the lacy fabric of my bra down, exposing my nipple. He grazes his thumb across it again and again, my nipple pebbling with arousal. I fall back against the pillows, completely lost in him and in the way his hands feel on my skin.

Ronan kisses the sensitive skin on my neck, nipping and licking a path to my chest, then circles my hard nipple with his tongue. He keeps pushing me toward the edge with his mouth while I grind against his leg slowly, sending delicious waves of electricity straight to my core where the pleasure builds like it did last night. I can’t contain my moaning; I’m close. Just as the mounting wave of pleasure is about to crest, Ronan moves his leg, and the pressure between my aching thighs ebbs.

“Please don’t stop,” I whimper under him, and he chuckles in a husky voice. He glides his hand between my legs, but he doesn’t linger there and instead undoes the button of my jeans, pulling the zipper down. He begins to kiss a trail from my breast down my stomach, licking my belly button, then the spot below it. It tickles, but in the best possible way as his soft lips caress my hot skin. I angle my knees and lift my hips, allowing Ronan to pull my jeans down to my knees and off me, revealing my black lacy panties.

“This is as far as I’ll go until you tell me you want more,” Ronan says, his voice gravelly as he repositions himself between my legs. His mouth seeks and finds my nipple for a second time, eclipsing any thought in my head, and I’m once again lost to him, his touch consuming me. I grind into him while he licks, kisses, and sucks my nipples, alternating between my breasts, his left hand softly stroking my inner thigh while his leg rubs against me. The pleasure begins to swirl anew, stronger still, hotter, and I feel my arousal soaking into my panties.

“God, Ran,” I moan loudly, my breathing out of control, eyes shut when he grates his teeth carefully against my sensitive nipple, and the pleasure builds in my core. I’m almost there when he moves his leg away again, resulting in a frustrated groan at being denied climax for a second time in a row. This must be what edging feels like, and while I want nothing more than to reach that blissful high, I can’t deny that each time Ronan pushes me to the brink only to let off again, the pleasure that rebuilds just moments later is even more powerful, more intense than before.

“Fuck, I love how badly you want this,” Ronan says, his gravelly voice low, quiet, filled with need of his own. He glides his hand up my thigh, pushes my panties aside, then begins to stroke me. I moan gratefully at the feeling of his fingers on my bare needy flesh. It only takes him a few soft sweeps to find the perfect spot, the perfect pressure, and I’m pulled under the waves of pleasure, ecstasy pulsing exquisitely through my body.

I thrust my hips against Ronan’s hand, arching my body into him, his mouth still tasting my nipple while he continues to stroke me. It’s all-consuming, addictive, and I wish it would go on forever. When I finally regain control, his breathing is as erratic as mine.

My eyes settle on his, still hovering over me. He looks high, his pupils blown wide with need, almost completely swallowing the green of his irises. I wonder how that’s even possible since I did nothing for him while I’m here once again, my body feeling like it dissolved under his touch.

“I keep doing this to you,” I whisper, and gently glide my hands up the curve of his back. His skin is so soft, so smooth, yet his back is strong and hard as his muscles flex to hold himself up.

“What do you mean?” he asks, his eyes bright like they get when he’s really turned on. I can still feel his hardness pressing against my leg.

“This.” I wag a finger between his chest and mine. “We get all worked up, and in the end only I find relief,” I explain, feeling guilty.

He chuckles, then places a soft kiss against my lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll get relief,” he says, his voice teasing. He rolls my nipple between his fingers, causing electricity to shoot straight to my core. “I’ll just have to do it myself,” he adds, a smile on his perfect lips.

“How long… how long did you take under the shower last night?” I ask, blinking at him shyly. I can’t believe I’m prying into something this private.

There’s a mischievous little gleam in Ronan’s eyes as he grins at me. “Are you asking about the actual shower or just…” he trails off.

“Just… just the… you know.” I bite my bottom lip, feeling the telltale heat creep up my neck.

Ronan chuckles. “Probably thirty to sixty—”

“Minutes?” I interrupt him, my eyes wide.

“Seconds,” he corrects me with a husky laugh.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “That fast?” I feel both surprised and kind of proud at the same time.

Ronan nods. “Yeah. I mean, I was under the shower longer than that, obviously, but yeah.” He shrugs and I think I note some slight embarrassment in his eyes. “I told you it wouldn’t take me long to take care of… the issue. Baby, I don’t want to put any pressure on you, so please don’t take it as that, but… I’m really pent-up,” he says with a low groan. “And when we do things like we did last night… when I touch you like that, when I hear you make those little sounds and watch you… come….” He exhales noisily, shaking his head slightly as if trying to clear it of the titillating memories. “Let’s just say I was locked and loaded,” he adds with another chuckle.

I contemplate him.

“Is this even enjoyable to you? You know, last night and… just now?” I ask. With Adam, it was always about what he could get out of the situation, never about what I wanted… or didn’t.

Ronan pushes up off his elbows, supporting himself with his hands now, creating more space between our bodies. I want to pull him back down toward me. “Fuck, yes I’m enjoying this,” he says, his face sincere as he locks eyes with me.




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