Easy Virtue (15 page)

I extend my hands in front of me. “Fine, be that way.”

Ronan laughs in my ear. “It’s a surprise, you impatient lil’ thing. I hope you’re hungry though.”

“I’m starving, but not for food,” I tease, a playful smile on my lips as I reach behind me for the front of his pants.

“Good.” He laughs. “We’re here. I’m going to let go, but don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”

“You know you’re making it incredibly hard for me not to cheat, right?”

Ronan chuckles, his hands circling my waist. “All right. You can open them.”

And when I do, my breath catches in my throat.

We’re standing in what I assume is someone’s private terrace at the top of a building facing Central Park. The sun is setting, casting amber and red lights across the park and the buildings surrounding it. It’s as though the city is burning to the ground, the sky filled with clouds like cotton candy in all its shades of pink, purple, and blue. In awe, I turn to look at Ronan, who’s watching me with a sheepish smile on his lips, the golden speckles in his brown eyes shining like winter lights.

“You mentioned the other day that you love sunsets.”

Suddenly, I feel like crying. I don’t think anyone has ever done something this special for me, let alone paid attention to what I’ve said outside of the bedroom. To most guys, I’m only a body they enjoy fucking and showing off. I don’t think anyone has ever cared enough. That is … until now.

I tuck some hair behind my ear with trembling hands as I finish admiring what Ronan has done for me. On the floor, there’s a checkered picnic blanket and a wicker basket filled with cheeses, fruit, and wine. Not caring about anything but Ronan and the overflow of feelings pouring out of me for this man, I turn to face him.

He’s watching me with his arms crossed, looking like he just discovered the cure for a deadly disease. Without sparing a second thought, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and kiss him, open-mouthed. I kiss him with everything that I have and everything that I am. I kiss him with the passion of a woman tasting the promise of true love for the very first time in her life. Every man before him forgotten.

I break the kiss and stare at him, trying to find the right words to thank him, but all I can do is drink him in. Ronan pushes my hair out of the way gently. “Do you like?”

I nod. “I like. A lot.” And because I don’t know how to show gratitude with anything but the use of my body, I whisper against his mouth, “Do you want me?”

He leans down, his nose tracing my collarbone. “Indecently.”

I lick my lips. “Take me to your apartment.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be.”

Ronan is quiet, but the way he’s looking at me feels as if he is tattooing himself within me, within my soul. “Let’s get out of here then.”

The ride back to the Lower East Side, where his apartment is located, is quiet. We both realize what’s about to happen and really, what is there to say?

We haven’t kissed since we left his friend’s penthouse; we’ve only held hands. The tension between us is heady and makes me want to throw up. I feel excited, nervous, giddy, jumpy, but I’m not scared. In a way, this feels more like my first time than it ever felt with Mr. Callahan.

Inside his room, I walk toward the bed and stop when I’m standing in front of it. I take a deep breath as I stare at his navy blue duvet before I turn around. Slowly, as an unsmiling Ronan devours me with his eyes, I take off my T-shirt and let it fall to the floor. Ronan reclines his back against the door, rubbing the back of his neck as he continues to watch me undress for him, naked admiration and want reflected in his gaze.

I take my shoes off next, curling my toes as I fight an epic battle with nerves. I want to laugh at myself. Here I am, what I would consider a worldly, promiscuous girl, feeling gauche for the first time in my life because of a man and the innocent emotions he awakens in me.

I unbutton my shorts and take them off until I’m left wearing nothing but a light-pink thong and bra. Many men have seen me undress and used my body until I couldn’t walk, but right now I feel like the innocent virgin I never was. Not even Walker came close to affecting me the way Ronan does. As a matter of fact, being with Ronan demonstrates how little I cared for Walker. How insignificant he was.

I’m about to unhook my bra when Ronan steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Not like this, Blaire.” He runs a finger along the edge of my bra, the side of his finger tracing the curve of my breasts. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve lain awake imagining this moment … what it would feel like to have you in my arms. I want your mouth on me, your hands on me. I want to taste you … savor you … devour you until you’re begging me to stop. I want to feel myself buried inside of you, moving in you, robbing me of all logical thought. I want to feel you tremble, hear you gasp and moan as I pull you tighter against me. I’ll go deeper and deeper until both of us burn with desire and passion. I want to mark you. I want to fuck every other guy out of your body until I’m all you feel, all you remember.” He leans down and nips my lower lip. “Tonight I’m not going to make love to you, Blaire. I’m going to own you. Do you hear me?”

I brush his cheek with the back of my hand, the contact scalding. “You already do,” I say softly, and it’s true. No one matters anymore besides Ronan.

No one.

Ronan lowers me to the bed and lies down next to me. Leaning over me, half of his body covering mine, Ronan lowers his head until his hot breath touches my skin, raising goose bumps all over. I close my eyes, trying to calm my rapid breathing when I feel his tongue gently tracing the beauty mark above my belly button. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he says huskily.

I open my eyes to find him staring at me. His mouth begins to move upward, leaving a trail of soft kisses behind it. Slowly. Decadently. The moment his lips land in the valley between my breasts, he pauses, smiling against my skin, testing my control. But fuck control. He isn’t supposed to stop now. Groaning, I grab his head and pull him closer to me.

He chuckles before he mouths my breast, sucking it in. I tighten my hands into fists while I try to control the light trembling of my limbs, but I can’t. Hot and cold chills scatter throughout my body as he continues to torture me. His eyes on me, I observe the pink tip of his tongue tracing the outline of my erect nipple, flicking it, turning the wet material a dark pink. “So damn sweet.”

I moan and reach for my bra. He places a hand on top of mine, a devilish light in his eyes. “Not yet. I’m still having fun.”

“Seriously?” I say breathlessly, my heart pounding.

He smirks. “Yeah. I told you, I’m going to take my time with you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re beautiful.” He lets go of me and stands up.

I turn on my side and watch him undress, feeling like I was just cockblocked. “Do you
ever
not say the right things?”

“I don’t know.” He looks at me, his gaze penetrating and full of something I understand but don’t want to acknowledge. “Maybe it’s because you make me feel all the right things, Blaire.”

As he unbuttons his shirt, I observe his exposed muscles, showcasing a tattoo of a crouching tiger on his left pectoral. He kicks his Converse sneakers off with his socks, his jeans going next. Ronan stands in front of me wearing boxer briefs that mold to his thighs and ass, the perfect V between his hip bones and a raging erection sticking out like a bulls eye.
God, he’s breathtaking.
When he turns around to close the curtains, I see an Asian-inspired black and gray dragon covering most of his back. I’m not sure what’s more stunning—the artwork or him. It’s probably Ronan who makes the tattoo that beautiful. Every thick groove and muscle on his back moves as he extends his arm. His body is art.

With the only light in the room from the lamp on the night table, he gets in bed behind me. “I need you closer than this,” he says, wrapping me in a tight embrace.

With my back touching the front of his chest, he begins to gently stroke my thighs, the apex between my legs, lightly tracing my mound, my stomach. His touch is reverent, possessive. He pulls down the cups of my bra and lets my breasts spill out into his large hands. He cups them, his fingers lightly grazing my nipples, awakening them to his touch, awakening my body as it hums with the promise of what’s to come. With each stroke, each caress, the man is engraving himself on my skin. He’s learning my body as I learn his touch, and there’s no going back for me.

I want to turn around, but he holds both my wrists in one of his hands, stopping me from moving, while the other begins to caress my ass, palming the soft skin.

“Don’t move.” His hand goes inside my thong, seeking my core from behind. He runs his tongue along the edges of my ear and whispers, “I want you like this. At my mercy.”

He spreads my legs open with his free hand, hooking one behind his hips as one, two, three of his fingers begin to pump into me, stretching my opening. I tremble as I break free from his hold and place my hand on top of his. I follow the movements of his hand as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me, each time a little deeper, feeling how wet they become with my essence.

It’s pleasure.

It’s pain.

It’s euphoria.

He pulls out and rubs my clit, making me feel as though life sprouted from his touch. “This,” he breathes against my neck, “belongs to me now.”

I laugh shakily when he pulls his hand out of my underwear, turning my head in his direction. I watch him raise his fingers to his mouth and suck them clean. Once he drags them out, the tip of his tongue traces the flavor of my body lingering on his lips. He grins, his eyes wolfish. “So fucking sweet.”

“Ronan …”

“Shhh …”

“But—”

He kisses me, and I can taste myself on him. Is there such a thing as a pulsating kiss? A kiss that breathes life into you, a kiss you feel from the top of your head to the tip of your toes, a kiss that awakens your senses and makes them sing? Because this feels like it.

Ronan breaks away and begins trailing kisses from the valley of my chest to my belly button, down between my legs. Opening his mouth, his probing tongue traces the outline of my core through the wet lace. He breathes me in, inhaling my smell deeply into his lungs as though it was the last bout of air he’d take in his life. And then he nudges my panties aside, his fingers spreading me open until I feel the warmth of his tongue caressing my clit, licking me, plunging deep inside of me. I moan as he arouses every sensation in my body with his wicked mouth. Slow, fast, faster, slower, each swipe drives me closer to paradise. I want to die of bliss yet my body hums with life. He curls his fingertips up against my walls, never ceasing his divine assault. “You like this, Blaire? My fingers inside you, fucking you senseless?”

“Please, Ronan …”

“What do you want? Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

I watch him drive his fingers deeper inside me as he flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue. “I want you. I need you. God …” I pant. “Now.”

He stops his torment and slides my thong off my legs. His tongue runs up my inner thighs, the back of my knees, each naked area the fabric touches as it leaves my body. He stands up, removing his briefs, puts a condom on his rock hard erection, and lies back down. Ronan then moves behind me, spooning me, and brings his cock to my entrance. But instead of pushing all the way in, he drags the pulsing head along my wet opening, grazing my clit.

“Mmm … you feel so damn good, Blaire.”

The roots of my hair are soaked in sweat, my body in flames. I begin to grind my hips in circles, seeking his fullness, wanting him to fill me—own me. And he continues to tease me by pushing lightly into me, just to pull out. My eyes are closed. My breathing accelerates with each lustful second that passes between us. I’m so close to begging when he lets go of his hardness, grabs my hips from behind and pushes all the way in. Putting a hand in the middle of my back, he pushes my body forward and starts to pump into me. Our bodies tuned, we become one. At first his thrusts are shallow, his thickness impaling me, filling me, but like a slow train gaining speed, he begins to drive into me harder.

I push my ass toward him. “Deeper, Ronan. I need to feel you deeper inside me … harder.”

He curses, placing his hands around my waist. Restraint gone, our hips slam violently, driving us closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other. Flesh against flesh. So fucking fierce. So fucking beautiful. His groans. My moans. I begin rubbing my clit furiously as he fucks me from behind like a savage. His cock sinks deep inside me over and over again, the intensity of his plunges erasing all logic. He’s everywhere, saturating my senses. And I give him my all. Skin against skin, we live through our bodies with every kiss, every glance, and every touch until we can’t go on any longer.