Lucky’s: Ciaran by Lillian Grant



Lillian Grant

Irish born, Australian stripper, Ciaran Monaghan closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He tried thinking cleansing thoughts about puppies, flowers, and soft falling rain, but his brain refused to co-operate. He couldn’t even conjure a picture of his grandmother to set him back on the straight and narrow. The only memory he appeared to have was the one of Leah dancing tight against him, rubbing her hot nubile body all over his naked flesh in rehearsals. Nothing was working.

The music filtering through from the front of the house changed to Duran Duran’s “Reflex.” Thankfully, he had the dressing room to himself, but the boys would be back as soon as the song ended. Even worse, he was due on stage with Leah to take their place. He wished his cousin Michael to hell and back. Why did he have to be the one to step into Michael’s shoes after he pulled a groin muscle?

They’d left Sydney and been on tour for six weeks. Despite Leah continually flirting, he’d kept his distance. Michael had threatened to remove the balls of any of the strippers who messed with his dance partner, slash troupe costume designer. Unfortunately, Leah mustn’t have gotten that particular memo.

Michael had his lovers, Maggie and Sam, on tour to keep him warm; Leah had no one. And from the way she’d rubbed against him in rehearsals, Ciaran could only assume she was ready to kindle her flame and light his wick. Sweat trickled down his back, and he panted in an effort to wrestle back control of his mind from his rampant dick.  He was running out of time.

Fuck it. No way on God’s green earth was he getting naked in front of Leah and a room full of horny women with an erection he could use to hammer nails. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He tugged the towel loose and let it fall to pool around his feet. He wrapped a fist around his throbbing dick. A low moan escaped him as he squeezed and pumped hard. So good, so damn good. Two minutes and he’d be all right. Two minutes and Leah could rub herself against him as much as she liked, and his cock would lie dormant, spent, used, and empty.

Leah. Just her name made him weep precum.

A bang sounded on the door, and he jumped. “Jeysus.” He pumped faster. So close. He couldn’t go on stage with blue balls. Now it was worse than it would have been if he’d just left the bleedin’ thing alone.

A deep female voice called out, “Ciaran? Are you all right.”

“Minute.” His voice sounded strained. She was outside. God help him. He was going to explode. The force of it would make him scream her name, he just knew it. He didn’t do anything quietly, and this would be an ejaculation that measured ten on the Richter scale. They would be wiping spunk off the walls for days after.

The door slammed open. He yelped, moving his hands to try and cover the biggest frigging erection he’d ever had. Viagra could use him in their advertising the thing was so bleedin’ hard. “Leah.”

He turned his back and fumbled to pick up the towel as the dressing room door snicked closed. The sound of high heels tapped across the floor toward him.


He shook his head as he attempted to use the towel to lasso the swollen monster and secure it against his stomach. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She stepped around him and grinned. “I can see that. Jack off a lot before a performance do you?”

Tears filled his eyes his balls ached so much. “Not a lot. Special circumstances.”

She ran a finger down the middle of his sweat dampened chest and over the bulge under his towel. “We’re running out of time. How about I take care of it for you?”

“What?” Oh God, he was having one of those dreams again. The one where Leah the dark-haired, green-eyed siren sucked him dry and then rode him until his dick ached from over use. She even wore the tiny, red, flouncy skirt that barely covered her butt cheeks, the white silk corset that showed impressive cleavage and a hint of nipple, and the thigh-high soft leather boots she wore in his imagination. Any minute now he would wake up in a lather of sweat.

She tugged at the top of his towel. “Let me take care of it. Relax. You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before. In fact I’ve seen yours, felt it, and measured it for the trunks you currently have no hope of getting into.”

Ciaran held on fast to his towel and stepped backwards until his butt hit the edge of the dressing table. Randy’s penis pump clattered to the floor and an extra large box of condoms toppled over scattering its contents across the table top. In his dreams, he would have welcomed any sexual contact with luscious Leah. In real life he was in a flat panic. If Michael caught him, he’d be sent home. “I can’t touch you.”

Her cherry red lips curved into a smile. “You don’t need to touch me, hot stuff.”

Before he could stop her, she ripped his towel off and grabbed a handful of cock. He opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a deep moan. Leah smiled as she ran a fingertip along the slit. He placed his hands on the dressing table behind him. If anyone asked, he hadn’t touched her, even though he ached to lift her onto his throbbing dick and ride her hard.

“Tell me this is a dream?” Michael couldn’t kill him for dreaming.

“Dream about me a lot, do you?”

“More than is probably decent.”

She let out a throaty giggle. “Glad to hear it. I dream about you too.”

She pumped his shaft and used her other hand to cup his balls.

“Oh Jeysus, don’t stop. Yes, stop. I’m going to mess up your costume. It’ll be all over you. I can’t…”

Leah dropped to her knees and sucked him deep into her mouth.

His yell of, “Bleedin’ hell,” echoed around the room.  He couldn’t hold back. His hips pumped as she worked him hard with her mouth, sucking and teasing. When her throat closed around his cock, he was undone. With a shudder that almost knocked him on his arse, spunk shot the length of his dick. He should have given her the option to pull away, but he couldn’t stop. Thrust after glorious thrust and she just kept working him.



Leah let Ciaran’s soft dick slide from her mouth and pushed up onto her feet.  She should kiss Michael for making Ciaran dance with her. She’d wanted to get her hands on Ciaran’s privates for something more than costume adjustments since the first day she’d seen him drop his pants. The boy had an impressive package. His dry sense of humor, cute personality, hot body, and blue eyes to die for had turned lust into something so much more. But he never showed a flicker of interest beyond flirting. She’d begun to think he was gay. Despite all the free pussy available after a show, he never hooked up with anyone as far as she could tell.

She leaned over, brushed her erect nipples across Ciaran’s naked chest, and then tugged a tissue from the box. His breathing was erratic, and his eyes were closed. Her body shuddered with unrequited lust. Unfortunately, she would have to find some other time to try and persuade Ciaran to return the favor. If they were late on stage, Michael would get pissed off.

Carefully, she took Ciaran’s now flaccid dick in hand and wiped off the red lipstick stains she’d left behind. Despite him erupting and filling her throat with more cum than she’d thought possible for a human male to produce, his cock twitched to life.

After dropping the tissue in the wastebasket, she brushed a kiss across his lips. He latched on to her hips and dragged her tightly against him. The chaste kiss became so much more as he plunged his tongue into her mouth. She fought the urge to let him do as he would with her. Her pussy was drenched, and she ached to be filled, but any minute the door would open and nine sweaty, noisy, lewd men would fill the room. She pushed against his chest and broke free. After taking a deep breath, she smiled.  “You’d better hurry, or you’ll be appearing naked. See you on stage.”

Without a backward glance she fled the room. She needed to fix her makeup and be in position, ready to dance.


Ciaran grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down. What the fuck? Oh God, now dancing with her would be worse than before. Now he knew what her mouth felt like on his dick. He ran his fingers through his sweat dampened hair as the door opened.

Michael leaned against the doorframe. “Nice, but you’re supposed to arrive on stage dressed and get naked for the ladies, not arrive naked to begin with.”

“Fuck off.”

Michael grinned. “Not right now. My groin is still not what it was.”

“If you stopped your entourage from tugging you all the time, you might have some chance of recovery.”

“Maggie and Sam are doing wonders for my ailment. If you got yourself a lady friend, you might be a little less highly strung. You look like shite. Tidy up, get dressed, and get your scrawny arse on stage before the audience gets bored waiting and start a riot.”

Ciaran saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“And quit being a smart arse.”

Ciaran tugged on a purple silk g-string, Michael’s purple shirt, leather pants, and jacket. He guessed it was lucky for him they were the same size. That had been the reason Michael had insisted he fill the spot.

After one last look in the mirror, Ciaran inhaled deeply and made his way to stage left. The boys trooped off, one by one, high fiving him as they passed. As the props boys cleared the stage of clothing and discarded hand weights, Ciaran braced himself.  He could do this.

The first notes of Britney Spear’s “Toxic” filled the air, and he strode into the spotlight to meet Leah who had entered the stage from the other side. She showed no sign of nerves or any after effects from their impromptu tryst. This was her number. She owned the dance, and Ciaran was just a foil. A foil she would strip to a g-string before the song ended.

As soon as they met at center stage, she draped herself over him and the dance took over. She moved to stand behind him and ran her hands over his silk clad chest before cupping his package. He fought the desire to thrust against her hands. The feel of her warm breath and the whispered words, “Can you feel the throb?” made him gasp for air. Shite, he was done for.

Leah grabbed Ciaran’s shoulder and spun him around. Her look of wide-eyed innocence as she vamped it up for the howling audience didn’t fool him for a second. The tease meant to drive him nuts.

She took hold of his jacket and dragged him across the stage. He broke free and wrapped his arms around her waist, dipping her backwards. Britney sang on as he licked the side of Leah’s neck. She sagged, he spun her, and then she dropped onto her hands and knees. His pulse raced as he caught a glimpse of the bottom of her naked butt cheeks. Heaven help him, he wanted to kiss her arse and bury himself between those glorious creamy thighs. Before he could act on either desire, Leah pushed back up onto her feet and shoved him in the chest. She tugged his jacket down his arms and threw it aside.

She slipped into his embrace and ground against him. Her smile was devastating, but her whisper of, “I’m not wearing any panties,” before she spun away almost had him on his knees.

When she fell back against him, he mumbled, “Why not?”

To the beat of the song, she strutted around him, running the tip of a finger over his body. She stopped and leaned forward to give him a lick behind the ear. “They were soaked.”

He struggled to say something, anything, but she slipped away. He stumbled across the stage after her like a love sick puppy, falling onto his back in time to the beat. She placed a booted foot in the middle of his chest. His hip thrusts took on a life of their own at the glimpse of her bare pussy.

What the fuck? Was she trying to kill him?

When she flounced away, he scrambled to his feet and followed. She made short work of his purple shirt and leather stripper pants. The music moved played on, and he danced the steps without thought or care. Any minute now he would be living his favorite fantasy and worst nightmare.

In time to the throbbing beat, he turned the dance around. Suddenly Leah was the prey, and he, the stalker. He walked her back to a makeshift wall and dragged her up his body. Her legs straddled his hips. Their lips met in a searing kiss as he ground against her. Tongues tangled and moans filled the air.

His thin silk thong was the only thing that stopped him from impaling her on an increasingly interested dick. She writhed in fake ecstasy, although when they broke the kiss the glazed look in her eyes looked much too real. Hidden by her skirt, he slipped his hands lower to cup her naked butt. When she made no protest, he stroked the hand hidden from the audience along her thigh so his fingertips slid over her pussy.

God save him, she was so frickin’ hot and wet, really wet. “Shite. You’re going to kill me.”

She blinked all wide-eyed and innocent. “I’d never do that.”

“Have you no Christian concern for my health?”

Her grin was wide and her cheeks flushed as she moved subtly against his wandering fingers.

All his self control evaporated. The skimpy g-string barely contained his raging erection. Any minute now, she would dance out of his arms, and the whole bar would see him sporting wood. He risked starting a riot. Maybe he could walk off with her still wrapped around him.

Before he could put his plan into action, she slid down his body and strutted across the stage. He followed behind trying not to stare at the intriguing glimpses of her bare arse cheeks as her skirt swished with each step. Nothing would hide the fact he was aroused, and he decided to wear it with pride. Fuck. The ladies in the audience were getting far more than they usually paid for.

Leah stopped and slid into his arms. The warmth of her hands pressed tightly against his hips made him shudder. A couple of inches and she could grab his dick. It twitched in anticipation. “Jeysus woman, you’re such a tease. Don’t you have any feelings for me at all?” he muttered under his breath.

She grabbed the sides of his g-string and whispered, “Sure I do, you moron. I love you.”

She loved him. Leah loved him.

He knew he was grinning like a goofy fool.  It felt as if his heart had swollen to fill his chest, leaving no room for his lungs. He fought to breathe. Cool air bathed his raging cock.

Fuck, she’d forgotten the “no nudity rule” in New York and ripped his bleedin’ g-string off. He pressed his hands over the throbbing monster and made a run for cover. Catcalls from the audience filled the air as he finally made it behind the curtain.

Leah stood two feet away. She grinned and twirled the silk thong on the end of a finger. “You want it?”

Ciaran dropped his hands from his crotch. “What do you think?”

He gave her no time to answer, instead he swept her into his arms and marched down the hallway. She giggled and squirmed. “Oh, so manly.”

“I’ll give you manly when I get you alone.”

“Is that what you call him? Manly? That’s so cute.”

“My dick is not cute.”

She tipped her head back and laughed.

Enough. He was done with all this teasing. He kicked the dressing room door open and nine pairs of male eyes turned to glare at him. “Fuck.”



Leah snuggled closer. “Fuck indeed, but maybe we should use my room. I prefer not to have an audience . . .  the first time.”

Ciaran groaned. She giggled as he stumbled back the way they’d come and marched toward the private room that Lucky let visiting big name strippers use.

“Door.” He muttered, his voice a deep growl.

Leah reached down and turned the handle. Ciaran lurched inside and dropped her onto the red, fake leather couch. He kicked the door shut and flicked the lock before turning back and staring at her. His dick was still erect, and she swore she could see it throbbing.

“Too many clothes.”

She got to her feet. “A man of few words. I like that. You want me to give you a little show? Or maybe you’d like to strip me yourself?”

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “You do it.”

Leah crossed the room and hit the play button on the CD player. Slow, sultry saxophone music filled the air. He hadn’t said anything about her declaration of love. Maybe he hadn’t heard her above the screaming women and loud music. She did think he might have run in the opposite direction if he had. For now she would keep her feelings to herself and see where this newfound lust led them. Meanwhile, if Ciaran wanted a show, she was happy to oblige, in fact more than happy to oblige.

She took her time and swayed to the beat. All her training as a pole dancer came into good use as she gyrated, twisted, and turned to give her poor captive a glimpse of naked, moist pussy. Slowly, she unlaced the front of her corset and let it slide down her body to reveal her full breasts. She grabbed a handful of each and massaged herself in time to the heady rhythm. Ciaran let out a low whimper and she giggled. She’d hardly started and he was practically on his knees already.

Slipping her fingers in her mouth, she sucked them hard before running them over each nipple, leaving them glistening and erect. Ciaran licked his lips. She smiled. Her baby was obviously a boob man. She could only imagine how good it would feel to have his mouth on her, sucking and teasing until she begged him to fill her up and bang her hard.

She twirled and dipped in time to the music. Hands on the floor, she glanced between her open legs at Ciaran. The poor man had tipped over the edge and had his fist wrapped around his dick as if it was his last lifeline to sanity. She should take pity on him and get this over with. Pushing back upright, she unhooked and unzipped her skirt, letting it slither to the floor, and then kicked it aside.

She reached to tug off a boot, but Ciaran pounced and grabbed her hands. “Leave them on.”

“You like the boots?” She wrapped an arm around his neck, grabbed his dick, and slipped it between her thighs. She pressed her legs together to trap his engorged flesh. With both arms wrapped around him, she captured his mouth and kissed him long and hard.  She slowly thrust her hips so his dick moved against her slick lower lips. Moisture pooled between her legs, and she moaned into his mouth as his cock brushed her aching clit.

He fisted his hands in her hair and hauled her back. “Enough play time.”

“You don’t want to play? Have I been a bad girl?” She ran a finger down his chest and over his tight abs.

“God save me. I’m going to spurt if you keep that up.”

She flicked his nipple ring. “I’m ready when you are, baby.”

Ciaran hauled her up his body, and they fell onto the sofa in a tangle of arms and legs. Leah sighed as he gorged himself on her breasts. She’d been right, her man loved her titties.


He could die a happy man with his face buried in Leah’s boobs. Soft, warm, kissable, suckable, delicious tits. However, much more was on offer. Next time he’d give her breasts the adulation they deserved, assuming there was a next time.

She’d said she loved him. So, there would be a next time. Wouldn’t there? Unless he was a huge disappointment.

He hadn’t said it back. Should he tell her how he felt? What if she’d been kidding? He could freak her out and then he’d be left with the world’s worst case of blue balls and tomorrow he would be going through this torment again. He was over thinking this. The musky scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. Take a chance, dive in head first and to hell with the consequences.

Leah opened her eyes and stared at him. “You okay?”

“Perfect.” He slid down her body and kissed his way over her stomach. He flicked his tongue over her bare mound. She lifted her hips, moaning softly, and he grinned. That was all the encouragement he needed. Her pretty pink clit sat proud. He teased it with his lips and tongue until it throbbed at his touch. She threaded her fingers through his hair and shoved his face into her pussy.

He grabbed her arse with both hands and lifted her  so he could lick the length of her slit. She tasted glorious, and the way she whimpered and shook made him throb in response.

There was still so much to explore. So many places he wanted to take her without ever leaving the couch. Her moans grew louder as he ran the tip of his tongue around her entrance.

Leah was a sensitive little thing. However, even if she begged, he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. When he slammed into her, it would be a short but wild ride. He could usually hold back his own release for as long as required to get his lady off, but he was concerned this time he would be a thirty-second-man.

Leah deserved his best, but was unlikely to get it. His cock was primed, loaded, and ready to release its payload at any given second.

He wiggled his tongue inside her opening; her muscles clamped down drawing him deeper. She was on the edge, but he wouldn’t let her tip over without him. If she climaxed with his face in her pussy, he’d disgrace himself. Nothing would kill the moment more than wiping a pool of cum off the sofa.

Ciaran dropped one last kiss on her pussy, sucked her lower lips, and inhaled her fragrance before pulling free. “Condom?”

He prayed she had one. She pushed up onto her elbows, pink-cheeked, damp with sweat, and never more beautiful. His breath caught in his throat.

“Dressing table.”

He crossed the room and upturned the box he found, scattering the contents all over the floor. After making his selection, he ripped it open with his teeth and sheathed himself as he made his way back to the delicious delight currently sprawled, legs akimbo, waiting to receive him.

She wiggled to the edge of the sofa. He knelt on the floor, positioned himself for entry, and plunged deep. His dick swelled as her muscles tightened around him. He groaned and held still as release hovered way too close; they would go over together.

Leah wiggled, and he pulled out before plunging back inside. Her whimpers made him harden to the point of pain. He sucked a finger and ran it around her exposed clit. Her hips bucked. He bit back a curse. Shite, he needed her to finish. He needed to come before his balls exploded.

He massaged her bud in time with each thrust. When the first ripples of her orgasm grabbed his dick, he let his control go. Jerk after jerk, he plunged harder, deeper.

“Ciaran, don’t stop!”

“Leah!” The sound of her name bounced off the walls as he came hard. Finally spent, sweaty and exhausted he collapsed on top of her. She shivered beneath him.

The steady beat of her heart matched his own. When she kissed the top of his head, he shifted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. Nothing could destroy the moment; that had been no mere sexual encounter. The experience had engaged more than his rampant cock.

Despite his past conquests, nothing had prepared him for the sublime bliss he had discovered in Leah’s arms. He wanted her again. In fact, he doubted he’d ever get enough of her even if they fucked like rabbits everyday until they died. He sought her mouth and kissed her softly, nibbling and teasing. His heart beat a crazy rhythm and a herd of buffalo stampeded in his stomach.

Now would be the perfect time to tell her how he felt. Now would be the time to say how magnificent she was.


“Uh huh.” She brushed her fingers through his hair.

He stared into her beautiful eyes.

The door knob rattled. “Open up, you little shite.”  A fist pounded on the wood.

Leah squealed and shoved Ciaran off. He bounced on the floor on his arse. She scrambled to her feet. “Oh God, did I hurt you. Sorry.”

He shook his head and used the sofa to drag himself to his feet. The knocking sounded again. Ciaran growled. The moment was ruined. “Fuck off, Michael.”

“I won’t be fucking off. I’ll be getting the key from Lucky and coming in to kick your scrawny arse if you don’t open up now.”

Leah tugged on the red satin robe that had hung over the back of a chair.

Ciaran was high and dry. His clothes were in the other dressing room.

Leah chewed her bottom lip. “You’d better let him in. I think he means it.”

Anxious to preserve what little dignity he had left, he grabbed the closest thing to hand and held it in front of his crotch. Michael was a dick. Ciaran had nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to apologize for.

He flicked the lock and opened the door.

Michael, arms folded, leaned against the frame and smiled. “Well how cozy.”

Ciaran stepped in front of Leah. “I’m not sorry. Don’t blame her. This is down to me.”

Michael’s gaze shifted to Leah and back to Ciaran. “Really? You think it was a good idea?”

Ciaran lifted his chin. “It was a fucking fantastic idea. I love her. Do your worst. Sack me. Whatever. But I’ll not go quietly. I’ll follow you from town to town to be with Leah.”

Leah squeezed his shoulder, her hand hot against his skin. He glanced back at her.

A smile lit up her face. She squealed and grabbed him. He spun around, losing the pink fluffy cushion he’d held in front of his dick. She smothered him with kisses. When she finally pulled back, her face was flushed “Say it again.”

“Say what. That I love you? Well I do.”

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

Michael cleared his throat. “This is all very touching, but not what I came to discuss.”

Ciaran turned and frowned, forgetting he was butt naked. “So, you’ll not be wanting my nuts?”

Michael grinned. “And why would I want those scrawny little things when I have a fine pair of my own to play with. Besides, now you’ve finally worked out how you feel about my dance partner, I think you’ll find she’ll be keeping them in a jar.”

“You’re not mad about … this? About us?”

“Nope, but I am mad as hell you flashed the entire bar. What the fuck were you thinking?”

Leah wiggled into Ciaran’s embrace. “Sorry, that was my fault. I forgot about the ‘no nudity rule.’ Is Lucky mad?”

“No. He’s too busy stopping a mini-riot. It seems you aren’t the only one who’d like a piece of Ciaran. I suggest you both get some clothes on and get out of here.”

Ciaran frowned. “I’ve more dancing to do.”

“I’ll be taking your place.”

“I thought you’d pulled a groin muscle?”

“And I thought you’d never be man enough to make a move on Leah even though you’ve been mooning over each other for months.”

“You told me you’d send me home.”

“I told you I’d send anyone home who messed with her. Are you planning on messing with her?”

Ciaran shook his head. “Nope. This is the real thing.”

Michael dug in his pockets and chuckled. “Young love, how delightfully refreshing. Here take my rental.”

Ciaran grabbed the keys to Michael’s Porsche. “Thanks.”

“And don’t be screwing her all night. You both need some sleep. You’ll be dancing together tomorrow in Chicago, and I’d appreciate it if you could both keep your underwear on.”

Ciaran held out a hand. Michael took it and gave a firm shake before looking Ciaran up and down. “And for fuck’s sake, if you won’t get dressed as I asked at least put some shorts on. I think we’ve all seen enough of your scrawny arse for one day.”

















24 thoughts on “Lucky’s: Ciaran by Lillian Grant

    • Well I can’t give you all the good stuff at the start or there is nothing to keep you reading 🙂

      Thanks for reading along, Eva.


  1. Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Loved it. Please tell me these two will be making some sort of appearance in the next book??? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?


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