No way.
No fucking way was his recently devirginized girlfriend considering...
He stepped close. Very close. In her seated position, his straining sex was at the perfect height.
He wanted— so badly— for her to be thinking— what he was thinking.
“I want to taste you, Bran. I want to know what you feel like on my tongue.”
A bead of cum instantly pearled.
He groaned and grasped himself with one hand, slowly stroking the head toward her parted lips. Her words alone made his balls tighten.
“You’ll let me know what you like.” Not a question.
“I will... you’re sure...?” In answer, she leaned forward to swipe the precum off his head. Bran had to brace his suddenly weak legs. The muscles in his thighs swelled and twitched. His palms slapped the wall above her.
Raven wrapped her delicate hands around his swollen, throbbing length, leaned forward, and closed her mouth around him. Her tongue swirled back and forth across the sensitive underside.
“Jesus. Fuck.” It was all he could do not to pump his hips as Raven bobbed her head farther down and farther still. Her hands stroking in tandem.
His will to remain still lasted seconds. Hehadto move. Bran couldn’tnotmove. “Take more of me. Oh, God, baby, swallow me down. There— yes— shit!” Shallow pumps, her wet lips, tight throat, the sight of her mouth stretched around his shaft...
“Going to come, Raven!” Gritting his teeth, Bran tried to hold back. “Let me go, or I’ll come down your throat!” he demanded. Her response was to move one hand to his ass and dig her fingers in, keeping him where he was.
“NOW! Raven, God!” Every muscle in his body locked up. “Swallow all of it,” he growled. Spurt after spurt of his climax washed the back of her throat. Bran didn’t think he would ever stop. The intensity left him weak.
Finished, she slowly let him slide from her swollen lips. His legs could no longer bear his weight, and he sat heavily on the shower floor at her feet.
Raven was silent for a moment, and then she smiled. “A person can learn a lot from books, right?”
“I’m building you a library.”
The tripto Longford was overcast and misty. It didn’t matter to Raven. Nothing could dampen her mood, even clouds. She and Bran kept looking at each other and grinning. It was all so new to be in a relationship. She prayed it was a relationship. He’d called her his girlfriend more than once... but.
She’d talk it through with her sisters, though they would probably be disappointed she’d slept with Bran— well, a whole lot more than sleeping— without asking for some clarity of their status. Most important... were they exclusive.
Bran slowed their mid-sized SUV rental. A winding road led off Ireland's main highway or national primary road. “What are we doing?”
“There is a castle ruin just a mile up ahead. We have the time before meeting Peter Tamin in Longford. Are you up for a walk in the light rain, Miss Byrne.”
Snorting, she laughingly replied, “I probably won’t melt.” Pleased with the stop, she tried to put her worries about their status on a back burner.
As they pulled up to a bit of beaten-down grass that must serve as an Irish countryside parking lot, the sun started to peek through the clouds.
Raven eyed the sky. “Oh, perfect, Bran. I think the sprinkling is about to stop too.”
The rain-slicked stone from the long-ago tower sparkled in the stray beams of sun. “I have to snap a pic for my sisters. Will you take one with me? Your arms are a lot longer than mine.” Smiling, she handed Bran her phone.
“Good to know I can be of service.” They could never get the angle right where they were in the picture with the ruins behindthem. She was too damn short. Bran suggested she hop on his back.
The picture ended up being perfect. They were both laughing, the sun was fully shining, and an Irish treasure was at their backs.
“I’m so glad we stopped.”
They walked hand in hand around the old stone fortress, with its empty turreted windows and low crumbling fences surrounding the outer walls. Raven always loved castle ruins. Not that they were in ruins, which was a shame, but that it allowed her mind to conjure all sorts of stories about who once lived and worked in them. To appreciate the people that stood on the same bit of land she was standing on now.
Bran ducked under a low doorway to enter a stairwell that ended in crumbling stones about twenty feet up. The steps that were still intact were smooth, wide, and well-worn. Bran sat on one, taking her hand and pulling her to stand in front of him, his head just slightly taller than her own for once.
