Page 41 of A Dark Mafia Christmas

“We’ll be back down for dinner,” he says over his shoulder to his mom.

His fist is like metal around my hand. My heart is thumping. Part of me—the sensible, level-headed part that has protected me through everything that has ever happened to me—wants to yell at him to let me go. But the other part—the part that was zapped into life when he fucked me down by the stream—is screaming at me to hold on tight and enjoy the ride.

What if he’s going to tell me it’s all over now though, I argue with myself.

What if he wants me to take off the engagement ring and fly back to New York with Dave, the bodyguard?

What if I never see him again after this?

We stop outside his bedroom door.

“Emmett…?”

His mouth is on mine before I can gauge where this is going, and my tongue responds to his with desperate frantic movements. I hear the gentle groans coming from me, and I can’t believe that I’m even capable of them.

He opens the door, our mouths still locked together, and we practically fall through the doorway and into his room. The room is in a shadowy twilight state—it was light when we went out—like falling into a cocoon.

My pulse is racing. I already know that I’ll do whatever he wants me to do because I have never wanted anyone the way I want Emmett O’Hara right now.

Without warning, he drops his pants, his cock springing free and resting against my stomach. I instinctively reach for it and get a brief sensation of velvety smooth hardness before he pushes me down onto my knees in front of him.

He rubs his cock around my face leaving a wet trail across my cheeks, my eyelids, my chin. Pressing it against my lips, I keep them shut, afraid that I won’t know what to do with it when it’s in my mouth. I part my lips just enough to taste him, and a shudder of anticipation travels through me.

“Open your mouth for me, Mary.” The voice is disembodied as I stare at his cock, the fair wiry hairs at the base, the faint line of fuzz running up his abdomen towards his belly button.

There is something about being on my knees with his cock in my face that threatens hysteria to gurgle out of me, but then I feelthe tingling sensation between my legs, the way my pussy pulses, and I know that it isn’t hysteria. It’s desire. Emmett O’Hara in an expensive suit with that air of arrogance riding his shoulders is the kind of man I wouldn’t look twice at, but here in Ireland, with his pants around his ankles, knowing that he would protect me with his life…

This Emmett O’Hara is irresistible.

I open my mouth, and he slides his cock in. Slowly. My lips clamping around it.

“Suck me, Mary.”

I do as I’m told. I don’t even know why, when I could easily tell him to fuck off, stand up, and walk away without a second thought. Only, I do know why. If I walk away now, I’ll probably never experience again what I felt down by the stream, and if this is all I can take with me back to New York, then I’m going to take everything that he has to offer.

I suck the end of his cock, teasing it with my tongue, tasting the sticky wetness around the head. But then he pushes it further, and I instinctively gag, tears welling in my eyes.

I pull away, gripping the base with one hand, and catch my breath.

“Take it slowly,” he says. “I know you can do it, Mary.”

I peer up at him, and our eyes meet. Suddenly, I want to do it. I want to make him feel the way he made me feel by the stream.

His cock is already probing my mouth, parting my lips like they were made for this. I close my eyes and open my mouth wider, letting him in. This time, I control how far his erection goes, clamping my teeth around him and nibbling him gently. I gripthe base tightly, enjoying the way Emmett groans when my hand slides along it.

Finally, I find my rhythm. Holding him tightly, I suck harder, easing him in and out of my mouth with my hand, synching my movements with his breathing.

A thrill of excitement runs down my spine when I sense that he is getting close to coming. I’m doing this, I tell myself. His pleasure is my pleasure, like I’ve just discovered a new gift I never knew I had.

I taste his pre-cum, and he pulls out quickly, pulling me back up onto my feet.

“Strip for me, Mary.”

I shake my head. “I… I don’t?—”

“Do it.” His tongue is in my ear, his warm breath on my neck, and I unzip my jeans with trembling fingers.

He pulls away and watches me step out of my jeans and pull off my socks. I remove my sweater and toss it onto the floor as I stand in front of him in my bra and panties. Goosebumps pop on my arms and legs, not from the cold but from his intense stare.

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