Page 17
Diletta
I can hardly see past the blinding rain. It drives down, stinging my face, the cold shocking, biting into my exposed skin, which is… all of it. I’m out here running around on the grass in my birthday suit in a torrential spring downpour in the middle of the night. I know how crazy that is, but I love it.
I love the thrill of the chase. The adrenaline in my body keeps me warm enough, but I’m also running at full tilt. I wanted to think about this and not about all that shit that he can’t get out of his head. I hate that he keeps punishing himself for something that he didn’t do and something that he would never do in the future. He thinks he’s a danger, but he’s my savior.
He’s chasing after me, stalking me in the dark, a massive but gentle predator like he was in the past when I didn’t even know he was there.
Unseen, but not unfelt.
I’m too up in my head, or maybe it’s just that I could never outrun him. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough.
I hear him coming. I whip my head over my shoulder and watch him close the distance with his massive, smooth strides. I’m so in awe of the way his body moves, every muscle working in tandem to propel him forward at such an impossible speed, for certain every inch a predatory beast.
He scoops me up midstride and flips me up and over his shoulder. His hand comes down on my ass as the same time my stomach hits his chest full force. The air crashes out of my lungs, but I’m able to suck it back in without pain. I want hard as he changes directions, my body burning from the run and from what’s about to happen.
Ronan slows down to a walk, but his hand never leaves my ass. He pins me to his shoulder, and I might as well be an insect stabbed through to a board for all the power I have. My skin is soaked and cold but that thought sends a pulse of heat that bursts between my legs. Now I’m slick and wet there and not from the rain.
Ronan’s long strides don’t stop until he’s back at the cabin.
He rips open the sliding door and slams it shut, locking it behind us. He sets me down and pins me against the glass. We’re both drenched, water running in rivers off our hair, our faces, his shoulders and mine. He’s so much more fun to look at and focus on than I am. He’s gorgeous when he’s soaked. The shower almost did me in, but now that he’s wet and a little bit muddy, with a few blades of grass stuck to his feet and shins, breathing like a wild animal, he’s intoxicating.?
His dark eyes pin me to the spot, skewering me like that insect I was just thinking about.
He looks like he’s going to kiss me straight through that glass with a fury and an intensity that I heretofore haven’t witnessed, but he sinks down, knocks my legs apart, grasps my thighs in his calloused palms, and puts his mouth on me. He starts at my knee, licking water droplets all the way up my thigh.
My head crashes against the glass with a dull thud. His hands are somehow warm even though my whole body is ice. His breath, his mouth, all of him throws off heat as hot as a real furnace.
I love the sight of him down on his knees in front of me, head bowed. I grasp his soaked hair with one and stroke the shaved, shiny part with my fingertips. I love tracing the dark ink there, slick and just as hot as the rest of him. His hands trail up my thighs, spreading them further apart. His fingers trace my hips and then he grasps my ass.
The light from the kitchen is a soft glow on this side, the rain thrumming against the glass, my back pressed so tightly up against it.
He teases me with open mouthed kisses all over my thighs, licking and sucking the rain off my skin.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs into me. “You smell so good. I’ll never get enough of it. Your skin.” He traces another raindrop with his tongue, then kisses his way up to where I’m hot, soaked, and ready for him. “You’re so beautiful it’s going to kill me, but I’ll die a happy man.”
I want to tell him he’s not going to die at all if I have anything to say about it, but he surges forward, parting me with his tongue. He licks from bottom to top, stopping at my clit to suckle and kiss it. He hasn’t shaved in a while and his stubble burns against my tender skin. He still feels a thousand degrees hotter than me, even when he parts me and thrusts his tongue inside of me.
My whole body shudders with the pleasant intrusion. He takes his time, but not because he’s trying to drive me mad. I can tell from his deep moans that he’s enjoying himself too thoroughly to rush. He wants to taste and explore every bit of me. My nipples are hard little diamonds reminding me that technically, a lot of my body is still ice cold.
Ronan flicks his tongue over my clit and licks down, back to my entrance. He circles me and delves inside, teasing me by giving me only the sweetest taste of that euphoric sensation before dancing back to my clit again. He sucks me carefully, far too good at what he’s done to let me come by accident.
“Ronan… get up here.”
He lifts his head, grinning deviously up at me. “I didn’t know you were in charge of your own punishment.”
“Punish me with your cock.”
“Not quite there yet.”
He works me over again, alternating between my entrance and my clit until I’m a watery mess held up by his weight and the glass. He licks my clit with broad strokes and traces every inch of me. He doesn’t give me his fingers to relieve some of the pressure. He wants this to hurt so good, and it’s exquisite torture.
Finally, he surges up, wraps one palm around my breast, pinching my nipple so hard I yelp in surprise. It turns into a purr of pleasure as his other hand traces over me, his fingers teasing my entrance.
“Fuck… so good,” I whimper.
He spins me around and lifts my hands above my head, flattening my palms to the glass. The fact that anyone could be out there watching us, even though we’re in the middle of nowhere, makes my heart race.
“Are the windows and doors in here tinted?”
“So you can see out, but no one can see in.”
Of course they are. There’s no way Ronan would take a chance letting me be seen. He’s far too possessive to share my body with anyone else. I should find that kind of behavior archaic and disgusting, but it only makes me wetter. I was horrified when he pummeled one of his own club brothers for doing nothing that night I showed up at the clubhouse, but in his defense, he probably thought someone would mistake me for the women who hung around there, ready to be used for any one of those men’s pleasure.
I belong to Ronan and Ronan alone. If I had a problem with that and told him to back off, I know he’d listen, even if it was hard. What I want means something to him. My pleasure is his pleasure and my misery, his.
“Brace yourself.”
He gives me that warning and his hand at my hip, brushing along the curve of me, running over my ass. His other hand cups my breast from behind, brushing maddeningly along the underside of it. It’s not where I need him. I want him to pinch me again and fill me with that dizzying sensation of pain and pleasure.
He grinds his hips against my ass, his hard cock riding along my ass crack.
I moan and drive back into him, hoping he’ll take that as a sign to get the fuck inside of me.
His face drops to my neck, his warm lips an assault on skin, licking and sucking, scraping his teeth against the tender skin.
I try to take my hands off the window to reach around and grasp his dick. I need to guide him to my center. He forces my wrists gently back to the glass, showing me silently that he’s the one in control.
I let him. I didn’t just ask for this. I want this.
He finally angles his hips to give me what I want. His cockhead rubs along my entrance, getting soaked in my juices. I can’t tell what’s rain and what’s me anymore. We’re both still dripping all over the place.
He gives me just an inch, maybe not even that much, before pulling back. He pushes through my slick folds. I bend, grinding my clit against his length as he pulls back.
He slaps my ass lightly as a warning against cheating at this game.
His breath fans out on my shoulder right before he bits me. He sucks and bites all the way up my neck, probably leaving marks like a horny teenager, but I don’t care. I drive my hips back and back, searching for him, bumping into him half crazed, so ready to have him inside of me.
He might have a porn star cock, but he knows how to use it. I know he’ll be gentle with me. He always has been. Even if the rest of the world sees him as a stoic, cold, frightening man, I know that’s not him.
He’s the pillar of fire at my back.
He’s my safe spot, the man that I’ll always want to run to for shelter.
He’s the man who stands in my backyard for hours in the frigid rain because he can’t ring the darned bell and ask for help because that would have been bothering me, but he’s also the man who chases me through the rain almost entirely naked so he can see me safe and warm in his arms.
He’s not a psychopath, but even if he was, he’s my psycho.
I wriggle my hips, squirming and trying not to scream in raw delight as his cock slips in another inch.
“You asked me to trust you.” His face is right by my ear, his hand on mine, the other at my waist.
I melt against the cold glass, my nipples mashing up against the hard surface, the cold at my front and Ronan at my back.
“I’ll trust you. With my life. With my future. It’s yours.”
“Fuck,” I groan. “Your dirty talk game is definitely Grade A.”
He chuckles darkly and gives me another inch. Probably only seven or so more to go. “I won’t blame you if you want to back out.”
I turn my head to stare sassily over his shoulder. “I’m not going back on anything. I’ve already proved I can take it. Stop talking unless you’re going to fill me up and call me a good girl for taking every inch of your big dick.”
He pushes inside on a roar that thunders through the room and reverberates in my belly, my nipples. I’d feel it between my legs if I wasn’t so full already. He stretches me to the point of breaking me, but it’s a delicious invasion. One that I get used to within a few seconds. The pain of that stretch might make me gasp, but the pleasure does my head in. It scrambles me until I’m nothing but the slow, steady thrusts that Ronan starts with. He pulls out slow and gives it to me just as slowly all over again.
I attach the window, slapping my palms against it repeatedly. “Oh my god. Oh. Fuck, yes. More. Please.”
He seats himself inside of me, pressed so far that I can feel his balls against my ass. “Is this the part where I tell you that you’re a good girl?”
The pleasure that builds inside of me from hearing those words, even though I swear I don’t have a praise kink, nearly takes me straight into an orgasm.
“Only if you’re going to kiss me senseless to shut up anything I might respond with.”
I arch back, turning my face, desperately seeking his. He’s right there, already anticipating what I wanted. He crushes his mouth to mine and kisses me like it’s a war. He times his thrusts to the intensity of his kiss and steadies me with his hand to keep me from being railed into the glass. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, scalding and filthy. I love that he tastes like him, like popcorn and rain, and also like me.
He kisses me and fucks me into a wicked spiral where it’s pretty much just him keeping me from hitting the floor. I try to fight him back, to roll my hips with every one of his pumps, but it’s pretty much him, giving me all I can take, fucking me into oblivion but being so corporeal and strong at my back. He surrounds me, blankets me, invades every inch of me including my senses, my chest, my dreams.
I trust him with my body, but he’s also trusting me with his. The scars. The softer parts below. The person he’s hidden from everyone. His name. He’s given me everything.
“You’re so tight,” he growls, sucking my neck and my earlobe before grazing my neck and shoulder with his teeth again. “I can feel how your pussy is milking my cock already. I can’t wait for you to come, for your walls to clench around me over and over and milk every last drop from me.”
“That’s dark,” I whisper, and snort laugh because I can’t help myself.
“This is dark.” He splays his hand over my belly and travels lower to my clit. I know what he’s going to and try to brace, but all I get is a palmful of flat glass when he pinches my clit.
I explode apart, probably very ironically doing everything he just said I would. My insides are a shimmer of bright lights, a storm to rival outside, lightning and thunder building and crashing between my legs.
“Fuck,” Ronan bellows. “Fuck, Diletta. Christ.” His hand pounds the wall above mine and then he’s coming, jacking into me and driving himself home so hard that I nearly bend under the forward momentum.
It’s hard to breathe. My skin is soaked again. If any of that rain dried or steamed right off of me, I’m soaked with my own sweat again. Ronan is sticky at my back, holding me so tight that for once, I’m truly not sure where I end, and he begins.
As reason and clarity start to come back, panic claws at me, cutting off my airway and tipping my stomach into a nauseating spin.
We had condoms. We didn’t use one.
This might have been heat of the moment, middle of the night, crazy good sex, but that is no excuse for losing my mind and not being responsible. When the rain lets up tomorrow, we’ll be driving through Seattle. I could stop and get a Plan B pill somewhere. I’ve never in my life been reckless like this.
This can’t happen again. Condoms suck, but if I don’t want to use them, I need to get on something and get on it fast.
I might not get wild, chased through the woods and rain sex every night, but sex with Ronan is explosive and perfect and I’m going to crave him every bit as much as he craves me.
He pulls out and gently picks me up for the millionth time today. I don’t ask where we’re going. I already know he’s going to take me to the shower and be a perfect gentleman cleaning me up. He’ll probably soap my hair again and spend a good long time brushing out the tangles with the comb he brought in his shaving kit. At least he had the foresight to bring it. If we didn’t have some kind of brush here, by the time the weekend is done, I might be rocking a shaved bald head too.
He starts the shower, waits a long time for the water to get warm with the on demand water system in here, then steps in together.
I’m right about the soaping. The first thing he does is reach for the shampoo. He takes his time with me, getting every inch of me clean, then working out the tangles in my hair, before he carries me back to the bedroom.
I never knew I was a cuddler until this man came along with his overbearing presence, his protective aura, his huge body with the world’s most welcoming arms. Wrapped around me, it’s like at last, I’ve found my shelter. I needed to leave Italy in order to come home. Ronan chases away the worries and stills the endless loop of my thoughts. Most of the world is afraid of this man, but it’s been years since I’ve known safety and goodness like this.