Page 53 of The Irish Arrangement

“I’m used to it.” She frowned. “Being on a saddle. Not…”

I growled, kissing her again at the reminder that she was mine. I was her first and last. She’d come a virgin, and she would never leave me to be another man’s to fuck or pleasure.

All mine.

She wasn’t lazy. Eager and determined, she kissed me back as I unzipped her shorts and pushed them down.

“Here I was thinking I’d already proven to you that I do want to make you happy,” I whispered against her lips as I fingered her.

Breathing quicker and trying to reach up to kiss me at the same time she tried to free my erection from my pants, she whined a sexy mewl.

“Yeah. Like that, you do.”

I couldn’t picture her away from me, from this place. She belonged here, hungry for my cock, unafraid to go for it and to let me in as hard as I wanted.

I guided her to a tree and turned her around. “Bend over. Show me that ass.”

She did, and I slammed into her. Pressed up against the tree, her hands on the wet bark, she braced herself for a quick fuck.

“Harder, Declan. Harder.”

Fuck. I gritted my teeth. She’d never said my name like that. Never said it at all, maybe. And it was all I needed to unleash on her. I rammed into her until we were both ragged and worn. If her pussy wasn’t sore before, it was now.

Moaning and sated with her orgasm, she went easily into my arms as I pulled her up afterward. Turning her so I could kiss her sassy lips, I kept her close and pushed my fingers into her pussy, shoving my cum back up.

She sighed, kissing me back until I released her.

Then I surprised her, earning a raised-brow expression of shock after we righted our clothes.

Pulling her phone out of my pocket was the last thing she expected.

If having a way to contact her mother would be a compromise that kept her happy, I could make that sacrifice.

“Why?” she asked as she took it.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to tell me I couldn’t speak with my father.” I shrugged, feeling vulnerable to give in to her at all. That I wanted to give in. “You can contact your mother. No one else.”

She met my gaze and nodded. “Thanks, Declan.”

I smiled wickedly and lunged to kiss her hard.

“Say it again.”

She whimpered, but acquiesced. “Declan,” she whispered with her lips a breath from mine, “I think I need more than a minute to be pounded again.”

I took her hand, leading her back to our horses. “Race you home,” I teased, holding her to it.

20

CARA

My phone burned in my pocket. I’d glanced at it, noticing it was fully charged before I slipped it away. I felt its presence, and I didn’t know how to interpret why Declan gave it back to me.

I was happy. I was glad that he gave it to me and that I could have a chance to contact my mom. His explanation was touching, too, that he could be sympathetic to give it to me in the vein of the golden rule, that he’d want to speak with his parent and could recognize that I wanted to remain in touch with mine.

It also felt so strange to be grateful for his permission and the means to make a simple call or text.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was an independent woman. I decided what needed to be done and I didn’t have to ask anyone for permission or allowance to do anything that I deemed necessary.

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