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“Okay” slips from my mouth, unbidden.
He leads me back three steps until the backs of my legs hit the toilet and I’m forced to sit. His calloused fingers are gentle, grazing the underside of my chin, smoothing over my bottom lip. “I’ve been waiting for this since last night.” His thumb slides into my mouth and I suck it involuntarily.
With his free hand, he tugs his track pants down, and his hard length springs free.
It’s another first for me, the chance to grip him in my hand, to revel in the feel of his smooth, soft skin against my palm.
I shake my head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just … we seem to be running around the bases in the wrong direction.”
He groans, his head tipping back as I run the pad of my thumb over his tip. “I don’t care which direction we’re running in, as long as it ends with me coming in your mouth.”
No one’s ever talked to me like this before. I never thought it would be a turn-on, but coming from Ronan, with that deep, raspy voice, it makes my pulse skitter every time.
My mind snags on his words. He’s been waiting since last night? I hesitate. “Why didn’t you bring a girl home from the bar?”
He frowns. “Did you want me to?”
“No.” Is that wrong to admit?
“Well then …”
“Well then, what?”
“Suck my dick, Ryan.” His hand slips from my jaw around to the back of my head and he pulls me forward.
I resist, even though desire burns hot between my legs. “Say please.”
His brow arches. “Please take my dick in that vicious mouth of yours.”
I oblige, running my tongue along the underside of him. When I glance up, he’s staring down at me with a hard look.
I part my lips. An invitation.
He accepts it, sliding in. I close over him, molding around his shape.
Connor’s voice carries from somewhere in the living room and it must be bothering Ronan, because he flips the switch for the fan, drowning it out.
I’ve never really liked giving head, but it’s different with Ronan. Maybe because our relationship is purely physical, and he turns me on like no other guy I’ve ever been with. I want him to enjoy this as much as I enjoyed him going down on me yesterday. So, I do my best, pushing myself to take him in as deep as I can, until I’m forced to relent or gag. He seems to appreciate it, smoothing loose strands of hair off my forehead gently, sweetly whispering words of encouragement, his hand controlling the tempo. When it starts to speed up, when his breathing starts growing ragged, I know he’s close.
“That’s it.” His hips start thrusting into my mouth and he suddenly swells even more. “Almost there …” His hand closes tight over my hair until it almost hurts.
A stream of warm salty liquid hits the back of my tongue as he orgasms, but aside from one low grunt, he manages to stay quiet.
Ronan spends a moment simply standing there, his breathing heavy, his hooded eyes settled on my face, his fingers stroking my hair. “Thank you.” He takes a step back, tuckinghimself into his pants. Hitting the fan switch, he pauses to listen.
All I hear is the buzz of the voices on the TV. It sounds like Connor’s off the phone.
“See you later.” Ronan winks and steals a carrot before ducking out.
Did that just happen?
Yes. It did. And I enjoyed it.
I take a moment to study myself in the mirror—my puffy lips, my mussed hair, the smears of black mascara around my eyes—and then I brush my teeth, grab my containers of food, and sneak out to my room.