birthright_rpg | The World is Tiny

With a wadded up hand towel, Rhiannon wiped fog from the mirror in Cian’s bathroom and looked at herself. Her hair was wet from the shower, and there were raccoon circles under her eyes, remnants of yesterday’s makeup. She spun some toilet paper from the roll and used it to wipe away the mascara. As she tipped her face left and right, she saw the mark that Cian’s mouth left on her neck; it was somewhere between a bite and a bruise, but it was faint and wouldn’t last the day. There was a comb near the sink. She parted her hair and brushed the tangles out of the lengths.

It was after noon. Early in the morning, Cian had left the cabin to take a boat of passengers on a day cruise. Rhiannon just rolled over and went back to sleep, tucked safely in covers that smelled like the two of them and their lovemaking. When she woke up again, she was surprised to have been out so long, and she sat on the edge of the bed feeling disoriented by heavy slumber and a bad dream she couldn’t quite remember.

Rhiannon pulled on her sweater, jeans, and boots and rummaged through Cian’s cabinets until she found what she needed to brew a pot of coffee. She took a mug of it onto the front steps and sat down, blowing across the steaming surface.

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“Oh, no,” Rhiannon groaned, but it was in good nature, as evidenced by the widening of her pupils, the half-smile softening her mouth. His voice was a great temptation, so throaty and low, and he so rarely said what he was feeling aloud, that to hear it weakened her mental resolve over why it was best to go. Cian’s hidden weapon: whispering in her ear.

“When you talk to me like that…”

He had to have figured it out.

“Well, he probably won’t start piling my things on the curb for a few hours.” Rhiannon pulled gently on his earlobe, and a stab of affection flared in her rib cage, so potent that it felt like the fire after too many shots of tequila, when her limbs started to liquefy. Just when she thought they were swimming in the deep end already, she’d realize it was an even longer way down.

"He won't want t' be tryin' that," Cian told her, hands sliding up under the hem of her shirt, finding the soft skin, one hand turning to rub the back of his fingers up and down her belly.

"Why, you gonna stick up for me?" She leaned up and gently licked the dips and rises of his ear, keeping her voice husky so as not to hurt his ear drum. "Say, 'sorry, guy... Ms. Lee was indisposed. She was far too naked to come home and pay her rent'?" She pursed her lips at the thin skin behind his lobe. He smelled of aftershave, sunshine, and the clear river air.

There was a soft rumbling audible, his eyes half-closing as he allowed himself to enjoy the sensations she sent through him, her tongue and breath and voice and something he'd only just started to feel the previous night, all washing through him in a way he hadn't felt before.

His fingers slid inside the waist of her pants, fastenings soon undone as his head lifted enough so his mouth was next to her ear. "Summin' li' that."

"For my sake, I hope you're as convincing with him as you are with me." Rhiannon sat up straight and gathered the hem of her sweater, preparing to pull it over her head. "Just do me a favor and use a different methodology."

She rose a bit from his lap and disappeared within the loose cable-knit garment.

What kind of willpower was this? A total lack thereof. Oddly, Rhiannon was okay with that.

"Promise," he chuckled, a low rumbling sound, his hands sliding around her body and down into her jeans, pushing them down from her hips as far as they could go. Leaning in his mouth closed over her navel, tongue swirling in it, the warm scent of her arousal already strong in his nostrils, his own body already responding.

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The World is Tiny

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