My brows shoot up. “I did? Well, I was just reminded of that Nightingale bitch who wanted to have you at all costs.”
His gaze turns darker. “Don’t think about her, Cher, or about any of those assholes. Stay here with me, in this moment.”
Ronan undoes his laces, making it easy to forget our days in captivity. He’s not wearing any underwear, so his cock springs free at once, all smooth, pink, and veiny. Oh God, I want a taste.
He jumps off the bed for a second to get rid of his pants, but instead of rejoining me, he grabs me by the ankles and pulls me to the edge of the mattress, lifting my hips at a sharp angle so my pussy is level with his face.
I gasp when he licks the outer edges of my entrance, teasing me beyond care. My clit is aching for attention, but Ronan seems determined to ignore my throbbing nub.
“Ronan… you’re not playing fair.”
“I’m sorry, Cher. I want to savor every inch of you.”
“You can savor me a bit more to the center.”
He laughs, then licks my clit in a long and sensual stroke, making me pant even louder.
“Like this?”
“Yes… do that again, please.”
He clamps his fingers around my legs and eats me out with gusto, winding me tighter with each caress. The pressure keeps building, and I’m a moment away from an earth-shatteringorgasm when he bites my clit and sucks it hard into his mouth. He’s feeding on me from down there, and it’s fucking glorious.
“Motherfucker!” I shout as I shatter into a million pieces, but the orgasm doesn’t end quickly. It keeps going until I can’t feel my body anymore, and all the thoughts in my head turn into cotton candy.
Forty
RONAN
ELLNESARI, PRESENT DAY
Cheryl and I are given only a few hours to ourselves before a soft knock comes at our door. We didn’t rest, but we did use our time wisely doing more pleasurable things than sleeping. We’re in bed, recovering from our fifth round… I think. I stopped counting. All that matters is that she’s in my arms, snuggled tightly against my chest.
“Ugh. I don’t want to get up,” she says.
“It’s okay. I’ll check who’s outside.” I throw my legs to the side of the bed and sit up.
She turns on her side, propping her head against a closed fist. “Aren’t you going to get dressed first?”
I arch a brow, noticing the upturn of her lips. “Do you want me to?”
“No, but we don’t know who’s outside. What if it’s one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting? It’d be a pity to gouge their eyes out for ogling you.”
“I love how feral you get,” I say through a smile. “But I just got you back. I can’t have you sent to Nightingale jail for committing murder.”
She shudders. “Ugh. I’ve had enough of captivity to last me several lifetimes.”
I put on the pants I was wearing earlier because they’re the only pair I have and walk to the door. “Who is it?” I ask before opening.
“It’s Castiel.”
“One moment.” I look over my shoulder. “Cher, you’d better get dressed.”
“In what? That dress you hate?”
I grumble, forgetting that detail. “Right. Well, stay under the sheets, then. I don’t want to be sent to jail either.”
She laughs, shaking her head, but pulls the silk sheets up so her lovely breasts are covered.
