Chapter Twenty-Three - Marked by Him
982 Words
The door to Ronan’s office clicked shut with a soft finality.
Evelyn’s back was already against the couch cushions, his body above hers—solid and warm, his mouth on hers with slow, hungry intent. Every kiss he gave her felt deliberate now. A promise. A test of restraint.
But tonight?
His restraint was thinning.
Her hands threaded into the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, gasping softly when he nipped at her bottom lip before kissing her deeper. Ronan groaned low in his throat as her hips shifted beneath him, the curve of her body fitting perfectly against his.
“You feel that?” he whispered against her mouth, his hand brushing over her hip. “That’s what you do to me.”
Evelyn’s breath caught, her lips parting.
She nodded.
And that was all he needed.
His hand moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants—slow and measured. His eyes stayed on her the entire time, searching her face for the smallest sign of hesitation.
But all he saw was trust.
Need.
Want.
When his fingers touched her, she gasped again—eyes fluttering closed, her hand tightening in his shirt. His touch was soft at first, exploratory, circling places she hadn’t known could feel so intense.
“Eyes on me,” Ronan said gently, his voice dark velvet.
She opened them, and the sight of him—watching her, studying every breath and every flutter of pleasure—nearly undid her.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured. “Let me watch you come.”
And then he moved with purpose.
Each stroke was skilled, focused, learning what made her gasp, what made her tremble. His mouth found her neck, kissing, sucking gently at her pulse point. She arched under him, breath short and shaky, eyes dark with something she'd never felt before.
When her c****x hit, it was quiet—but overwhelming. A soft cry. A broken breath. Her hands gripping him like he was the only thing tethering her to the earth.
Ronan groaned against her skin, stilling his hand as she rode it out, brushing his lips over the mark he'd left at her throat—a warm bloom just below her jawline.
He kissed it. Then kissed her lips again.
Soft.
Claiming.
But never taking.
When she finally caught her breath, her eyes found his—wide, dazed, completely undone.
He touched her cheek gently. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
His smile was raw. “That’s just the beginning.”
And the way he looked at her?
Like he’d never wanted anything more in his life?
That was the part that made her fall even harder.
The quiet in the room was thick with warmth and breath.
Evelyn still lay beneath Ronan, her body humming, her skin flushed and sensitive as he kissed her softly—slow, grounding kisses that said I'm still here.
She felt different now.
Like something inside her had cracked open—not just physically, but emotionally. And in the aftermath of that release, something bold stirred.
She reached for him.
Her hand slid down his chest, slow and tentative at first, fingertips brushing the hem of his shirt, then lower—past his stomach, over the waistband of his jeans.
Ronan froze for just a moment, his eyes locked on hers.
“Ev…”
“I want to,” she whispered.
His jaw tensed. “You sure?”
She nodded. “I want to make you feel good. Like you just did for me.”
The heat in his gaze darkened, but his hand came up to cup her cheek. “Only if it’s something you really want. This doesn’t go both ways unless you say it does.”
Her eyes held his, steady despite the racing of her heart. “I’m saying it.”
That was all he needed.
He sat back slowly, giving her room, watching her carefully as she followed the shift. She moved to her knees in front of him on the couch, her hands lightly touching his thighs. He was still fully clothed, but the tension in his body—tight, restrained—told her exactly what her touch was doing to him.
“Let me help you,” she said softly, almost shy but determined.
Ronan cupped the back of her neck gently, guiding her hair away from her face. “I’ll show you what I like. You go slow. You stop if you need to.”
She nodded, her breathing calm but heavy, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for his belt.
He helped her—unzipping, guiding her hand as she explored him for the first time. His body was tense beneath her touch, but not rushed. Not demanding.
He whispered to her, told her what he liked—there, slower… like that—and every time she listened, he rewarded her with a soft, ragged groan that sent heat rushing through her again.
She was learning him.
His sounds. His breath. The subtle shifts in his expression when she did something that drove him wild.
And when he finally came, it was with a low, broken sound, his hand gripping her shoulder, his body pressed forward slightly as he held back—still in control, even while completely undone.
Afterward, he reached for her immediately, drawing her gently into his lap, arms wrapping around her like she was something precious.
She tucked her head into his shoulder, and he kissed her hair.
“I wasn’t expecting tonight,” she murmured.
He leaned back, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “Neither was I.”
There was a small, warm silence between them.
But what filled it wasn’t awkwardness.
It was trust.
And the very beginning of something unshakably real.
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