Page 96 of Godless Saints

“Shut up.” I dragged him back by the hair and kissed him deeper. “Just—fuck—shut up.”

He laughed against my lips, the sound vibrating through me. “Make me, Moonshine.”

He yanked my hair back and kissed me harder, tongues deep and messy. His hips rolled up in a slow, filthy grind that dragged a broken moan out of my throat.

I couldn’t stop.

I clamped my thighs around him tighter, knees bracketing his hips, rolling down against the hard line of him again and again.

He let me use him. Hands on my thighs, eyes dark and completely surrendered. Every time I ground down he groaned into my mouth.

Then in one powerful motion he sat up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and stood. I gasped into his mouth as he carried me across the room, still kissing. My back hit the wall a second later.

He kissed me harder, tongue fucking my mouth.

“Fuck me against the wall,” I gasped. “I don’t care.”

“That’s my fucking prince.”

He pinned me harder against the wall, hips grinding up with raw need. One hand shoved under my shirt, nails dragging down my back. The other gripped my ass hard as he rolled against me.

“Fuck, Moonshine,” he growled against my throat. “Been dying to bury myself in you again.”

I arched into him, moaning. He bit my throat, sucked hard, then his lips traveled back to mine, kissing me deep and filthy while he kept grinding like he was losing his mind.

I tugged desperately at his shirt. “Off. Now.”

He ripped it over his head. Then his hands were back on me, rough palms skating over my ribs, thumbs pressing hard into my nipples.

Cillian groaned into my mouth, then moved. He lifted me higher and carried me down the short hall, mouth still on mine. He dropped me onto the bed. The mattress dipped hard. He came down on top of me, mouth never leaving mine, hands shoving under my shirt, palms scorching, nails scraping.

Control fucking snapped—legacy be damned.

Clothes came off in a messy rush. My shirt was yanked over my head. Boots kicked off. Pants shoved down and kicked away. In under a minute we were both naked and breathing hard.

I broke the kiss just enough to gasp against his mouth. “Just fuck me already. I can’t keep pretending I don’t need you. Right fucking now. Please, Cillian.”

Cillian made a harsh, broken sound and dropped his forehead to my thigh, breathing hard. Snowmelt dampened his hair. His shoulders trembled. “Fuck… Moonshine. I’m losing my fucking mind.”

His fingers dug in hard enough to leave marks, spreading me wider. His cock dragged against my hole, teasing the tight ring of muscle.

He pulled me back up and kissed me hard, tongue fucking my mouth. His hands were unsteady when he reached for the lube.

He was desperate, but he still took his time.

Slick fingers stretched me open, curling hard while I panted and leaked against my stomach.

“Easy, baby,” he rasped. “Gotta open you up first. Can’t wreck you… not yet.”

I hated how careful he was. I hated how much I needed it.

His free hand stroked me once, twice, teasing.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I shoved him onto his back and straddled him. Cillian let me.

I lined myself up and sank down in one slow, burning slide. The stretch tore a broken sound out of me.