Page 82 of Red Card


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It’s not exactly painful, no. It’s more the anticipation of it happening that has me tensing, waiting for him to fully seat himself.

It’s almost as if he reads my mind, or maybe he just reads my body the way no one else ever has, because his hand slips down my stomach to my clit, and he rubs soft, quick circles. He lowers his mouth to my neck and plants wet, hot kisses there, trailing his tongue along my heated skin, all while his talented fingers thrum my clit. He slowly sinks inside me inch by torturous inch.

Oh.

That’s…

Good. Great.

“You’re doing so good, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he murmurs into the curve of my neck, nipping gently.

I’ve always been a good girl.

Never missing class, never turning in assignments late, always doing what I’m told.

So it comes as no surprise that I love to be praised by Cillian.

With another slow, hard flex of his hips he buries himself to the hilt, hitting a spot that I think has never been reached before.

A deep, guttural groan slips past his lips, and I swear, a gush of wetness pulses from my core just hearing such an animalistic, feral sound rumble out of him.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

My head shakes, and I reach for his jaw, brushing my thumb along the stubble forming there. “I’m good.”

For a beat, he remains still, allowing me to adjust to his size, but when he shifts, his pelvis brushes against my clit and my eyes roll back, pleasure surging through me unexpectedly.

It feels completely different from just having his mouth on my clit, or his fingers inside me. I feel impossibly… full. Overstimulated in the very best way.

When I suck in a shaky breath, his brow pinches. “Shit, I’m sorry I—”

“No. Please, move, Cillian,” I pant, raw desperation snaking down my spine.

He reaches for my hand, threading his long fingers in mine as he withdraws, pressing his hips forward in a slow, impossibly deep thrust that has me panting.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. So fucking good.”

I can tell he’s holding back, trying to show restraint, but… I don’t want that.

I want him to fuck me.

And he told me to ask for what I want.

“Fuck me. Stop holding back.”

His dark eyes flare for the briefest moment of hesitation. And then he slides his rough hand along my side, down to my outer thigh, where he hitches my leg high on his hips, sinking even deeper.

And then he does exactly as I ask andfucksme.

Hard and fast and deep. His thrusts nearly moving me up on the bed from the force.

He rotates his hips in a circular motion that has my vision dancing, my eyes fluttering shut as my nails bite into the skin of his back.

God, whatever I thought having sex with Cillian would be like is not even in the same universe of what it actually is.

This is euphoria, and I can’t get enough.

Cillian switches position, placing both my legs on his shoulders and slams back inside me. This new angle is even deeper than before, and with every thrust, he bottoms out.