Page 30 of Sweet Vengeance (Sins of the Father #2)

Ollie

It’s almost three in the morning, but I can’t sleep. Aislin passed out on the couch about an hour and a half ago. I’m downstairs too, on the chair, cell glued to my hand. The only time I set it down is when I took a shower, which I only did because I needed a distraction.

How long does it take, whatever they’re doing? What if something went wrong? What if they got caught? How many times can I ask myself these same questions?

What if, what if, what if. I can’t stop obsessing. I haven’t even let myself consider what it is he’s doing. All that matters is Cillian coming home safe.

To me.

Because I’m in love with him.

Light moves across the wall, making my heart jump to my throat. I shove out of the chair, don’t think twice about who it could be or what could be happening before I run to the door and tug it open.

Tiernan’s car is parked out front, all of them spilling out, and again, I don’t think, just run—down the stairs, across the gravel driveway, hard, sharp rocks stabbing into my feet as I go.

Cillian looks up seconds before I throw myself at him.

He still manages to catch me, my arms around his shoulders, face in his neck, glasses digging into my skin as I’m pressing so hard into him, his arms entwining around my waist. He smells like soap and like mine, and his hair is wet, telling me that whatever he did, he had to clean up afterward.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

“You’re home,” I whisper against his skin.

“I told you I’d be back. You didn’t believe me?”

“I always believe you.” His body stiffens against mine, as though I said something wrong. “Are you okay?”

“Shh,” he says to me, then pulls back and looks at Tiernan. “We’re going to bed. If you need me for anything, it’s gonna have to wait until tomorrow.”

Cillian doesn’t wait for Tiernan to respond, instead taking my hand and walking with me back to the house.

“Ouch.” My feet are a lot more tender now that I have time to think about it.

“Jesus.” Cillian gets in front of me, and I don’t think twice before jumping onto his back and letting him carry me into the house. It’s like I don’t even recognize myself anymore, like this is just another way Cillian has helped me open myself up to parts of me I didn’t know were there.

He sets me down when we get into the house, taking my hand again as he leads me upstairs.

There’s something heavy about him tonight, his blue eyes not as vivid and like he’s carrying even more invisible weight than usual. He’s always got so much on his shoulders, they all do, really, in a different way than most people would ever understand.

The second we’re in the room, he starts with, “Kitten…I—”

“Shh.” I press my finger against his lips.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Leaning forward, I press my lips to his.

“I don’t want to know.” Another kiss. “I just want you. Please, Cillian. I need you,” I beg, feeling this desperation growing stronger and more potent by the second.

“Please. I need it. I need to feel you. Need it so bad.” God, I should feel pathetic begging for it this way, but I don’t.

I feel…strong. Honest. I have the strength and the power to say what I want, and that is him.

Cillian grabs my face in his hands, looks at me for a second that’s both over too quickly and somehow drags out for eternity before his lips slam down on mine and he kisses me with everything he has in him, like he’s drowning and only I can breathe life into him.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth, tasting me, letting me taste him too, sating a hunger I can only find with him.

He walks me backward to the bed, pushing me down and climbing right on top of me, our lips never parting.

It’s like my mouth holds answers he’s been searching for, like the secrets of the universe are found in my lips and Cillian is destined to discover them.

We kiss until my jaw hurts, until I’m not sure it’s possible to breathe without his lips attached to mine.

I know that whatever Cillian did tonight was wrong, but I also know he could have died, and that’s all I care about. Maybe that makes me a terrible person, but I don’t have it in me to care anymore. He could have died, but he didn’t, and now he’s here, with me.

“Please,” I beg again, our lips a breath apart.

“You need me, dirty boy? Tell me. I need to hear it.”

“I need you…so much.”

“Fuck. You are so goddamned perfect. You know I don’t deserve you, right?”

I shake my head because in this world I’ve created for us in my head, none of that matters.

“Don’t lie to yourself about me.”

“I’m not. I just don’t care. I want you. Don’t make me wait.”

He curses again before shoving onto his knees and ripping open the buttons on his shirt. Cillian tosses it to the floor, then goes for my T-shirt and pauses.

“What?” I ask, looking down, only to realize what my tee says—I’m a law student. That explains it, then. “Well, this is awkward.” I hadn’t thought about it when I put it on.

He surprises me by laughing, by smiling at me in a way I’ve never made anyone smile before.

I do this to him. I make him…happy, don’t I?

I give Cillian something no one else does, just how he does with me.

It doesn’t matter how different we are. Nothing matters except how we feel, and there’s something so incredibly beautiful in that.

“Look at me…about to fuck a future lawyer. I, Cillian O’Shea, have a future lawyer beneath me…and he’s mine.”

My heart thuds. My cock throbs. My whole body is so sensitive and hungry for him.

Our mouths slam together for a hard, searing kiss, and then Cillian is stripping me naked, pulling out of his clothes, and rutting against me. He kisses his way down my body, presses his tongue into my navel, then pulls my cock into his warm, wet mouth.

“Fuck.” I thrust into him.

“Dirty boy with a dirty mouth.” He takes me inside him again, licking and sucking me. It feels incredible, the best thing I’ve ever experienced, including the other times he’s blown me, but I need more. I’ll never not need more from him.

“Please. Need you inside me.”

He pulls off me and scoots up so we’re lying side by side. Cillian wraps a hand around my shaft, stroking slowly. “I want to fuck you. It’s killing me how bad I want to fuck you, but…are you sure?”

“Yes,” I rush out. “I’ve never been surer about anything.” It hits me then, that he really doesn’t think he deserves me, that he really wants to do right by me, despite still living in the world he lives in. “I want it to be you. I need it to be you. My first.”

“No one will ever touch you unless I say they can.” His hand lowers and palms my balls.

“Yes. I’m yours,” I say breathlessly. Are we saying what I think we are? Is this Cillian’s way of telling me this is real? That he wants it to last? That he’s not putting an expiration date on us anymore? Because I know I’m not. I don’t ever want to lose him, no matter the consequences.

“Such a good, dirty boy…” He keeps playing with my balls, making goose bumps flood my skin and all my nerve endings feel like they’re on fire. “Have you ever had something inside you before?”

My face blazes. “Cillian!”

“What? I’m trying to prepare. This is new for me too, remember, and I want to take care of you.”

Oh, well, when he puts it that way. “My fingers…and I have a…toy.”

He grins.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything. I was just imagining you fucking yourself with a dildo.”

“Oh my God. Stop.” I try to cover my face with my hands, but he doesn’t let me.

“You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me, and knowing you’re used to having something there, that helps. Do you need to go take care of anything? If you need supplies, I’m sure Dean and Tiernan have an unopened box of—”

“Hell no! You’re not asking Dean and Tiernan if they have a…you know, in their room.”

He snickers again.

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I enjoy you,” he revises, and it’s maybe the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.

“I should be okay. I took care of some business earlier…did what I could with what I have here.” I really can’t believe I’m talking about this, but also, I love that I feel comfortable doing or saying anything with him.

“You knew…knew you wanted this before I even got home.”

I nod. There’s no reason to deny it. I knew I needed Cillian tonight.

He reaches over and grabs a bottle of lube from his nightstand, followed by a condom.

“Do we need that?” I ask, wanting to feel every part of him inside me. “I’m negative. I mean, of course I’m negative. I still get checked, even though I haven’t had anal yet.”

“I get checked monthly. I’ve gotten the all-clear after the last time I was with someone, and I’ve never gone raw before. I also don’t use the kind of drugs where you’d have to worry about a needle or anything.” He plays with a lock of my hair. “I’d love to feel you that way, but it’s up to you.”

I don’t even have to think about it. I pluck the condom from his hand and put it back in the drawer.

“I feel like I’m corrupting you. Don’t hate me for it later. I couldn’t live with myself if you hated me.”

“I won’t…I never could.”

“Come here.” Cillian pulls me toward him, both of us on our sides, facing each other. He lifts my leg so it’s hitched over his hip, bent while the one beneath is straight. He opens the bottle of lube, slicks his fingers, then wraps his arm around me, finger teasing my crease.

A jolt of pleasure shoots through me the second his finger touches my hole, making me gasp.

“You like it already. Do you have a needy little hole?” He circles my rim with his finger.

“Yes…so needy.”

“Fuck, I’m never going to be able to get enough of you. I’m fucking obsessed.” He keeps playing with me, teasing me, making my whole body tremble before he pushes the tip of his finger inside.

“Cillian.” I arch toward him but want to push back on his finger too, craving more of it inside me.

He pulls it out, then pushes it back in again, this time deeper.

There’s always that moment of…discomfort?

But my brain just tells me it’s Cillian, tells me the pleasure is coming, makes me feral for it.

He goes deeper, in and out, making sunbursts dance in my vision.

“That’s it…look at you. You’re pushing back on my finger, taking what you need from me, fucking your tight little hole with my hand like I’m your toy. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made for me.”

I grab the back of his hair, tugging his mouth down on mine, kissing Cillian while he slides his finger in and out of my ass. He finds my prostate, massaging it, rubbing it, sending the most scintillating pleasure through me.

One finger becomes two, my body having to adjust to something bigger, but it only takes a couple of pumps for that to happen because he was right. I was made for this, made for him. Made to be fucked and possessed by Cillian O’Shea.

He rolls to his back, pulling me on top of him, our cocks moving against one another while we continue to kiss and devour and he uses his fingers on me.

It’s bliss. I can’t imagine what it will feel like when it’s his cock inside me. “More,” I insist.

“God, I love how open you are in your need for me. You don’t know what it does for me, the way it makes me feel—like I’m the most powerful fucking person in the universe.”

I whimper when he pulls his fingers out of me.

“I’m not going anywhere. I just want to see your pretty little hole before I fuck it. Get on your hands and knees for me, that pert ass in the air.”

My dick twitches in excitement, each of Cillian’s words turning me on more. I do as he says, tremble at his curse because I know it’s due to how turned on he is too.

He slicks his fingers again before getting behind me.

“Jesus…it’s so fucking small and tight. So pink. I can’t wait to watch my cock slide in and out of it. I can’t wait to possess every part of your body.”

“Yes. Please.”

He rubs my rim again, teasing me.

“I…do you like it?” I ask, even with his words from a moment ago still in my head. I just need to hear them again.

“I love it. It’s mine. My perfect little hole.”

He pushes two fingers inside me, making me cry out, then immediately pushes another in. The stretch is different this time, more discomfort but more need too.

Cillian works me open, pushing in and pulling out while I ease back toward him, ass hungry for everything he’s willing to give me.

“Look at how open you are for me, how your hole is begging for my dick.”

“Fuck me.”

“Let me hear you say it again. It’s so fun making you say that word.”

“Fuck me, Cillian.” I use his name too because he likes it, and I swear his breath whooshes out like from the valve on a pressure cooker.

He twists his fingers, making sure I’m stretched, making sure I can take him, and I can. What’s killing me is not having him inside me.

“I need it. Give it to me. I’m begging you. Fuck me, Cil. Please, please, please.”

I practically whine when his fingers are gone, but look down and see him slicking his cock with shaking, eager hands. Every part of him is trembling, just like I am, both of us cracking apart in our need for each other.

“Lie on your back. I need to see you.”

I scramble into position, legs spread for him like the slut I didn’t know I was, the way I only am for him. He pushes my legs up, then stops and shoves a pillow under my hips.

Cillian kneels between my legs, holding the base of his dick while pressing it against my rim…and then…then he begins to push inside.