Page 29 of My Irish Mafia King

“You’re everything I dreamed you would be…” Closer, closer. “Each morning, pretending it was casual, pretending I wasn’t aching to touch you, kiss you, pretending I could do the right thing and hold myself back. But now I’ve tasted your perfect lips.”

He kisses me passionately, his hand sliding further up my leg, pushing down with pressure that makes my head spin and my body surge with lust. But it intimidates me, too, because he feels like he’s ready to unleash his desire. He feels like he’s ready to take me into the bedroom and… expect things.

When he presses his hand on my groin, against my sex, one half of me wants him to keep going. One half of me wants him to rub until my lips ache and my clit throbs and pleasure scorches through me. But that intimidated feeling won’t quit.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, leaning back.

“I… I need help with another word. Can you tell me if I’m saying it right?”

He nods, a curious glint in his eyes.

I pick up my Gaelic book, flicking through the dictionary."Maighdean."

He swallows, his body tense, his temples pulsing as if he's trying to restrain himself. "Why did you pick that word?"

I shrug, feigning innocence. "Maybe it was random."

"You want to know if you're pronouncing 'virgin' correctly," he growls. "Don't tell me there's no reason for that..." His hand remains on my leg, holding possessively. "Are you?"

I bite my lip, nodding. "I thought you should know."

"You don't have to be embarrassed."

I brush his hand away. "Who said I was?"

"You didn't have to say it," he snarls, taking my hand.

"I'm twenty-three. It's just never been the right time. I've wanted no one. But you, Killian, yeah, maybe I want that, want us. But I heard what you said. We can only have tonight. Is that what we're going to be, then, just fuck buddies for a night?"

I'm frustrated by the emotion in my voice, but it's been a stressful couple of days... heck, it's been a stressful year.

"It's okay," he says softly, pulling me into a hug. He smooths his hand through my hair. "Thank you for telling me that. It clearly wasn't easy. And no – I don't want you just for one night. I want you for much longer, for much more. But wanting isn't the same as something being possible."

"Could you stay?" I whisper. "But hold me, just be there for me?"

"It won't be easy," he says fervently. "Being close to you, touching you, but not... you know,touchingyou."

I clutch him tightly. "Is there a difference between touching and touching?"

"You know what I mean,a stór."

A shiver of warmth runs through me. "That means 'my treasure,' doesn't it?"

"Yes," he says fiercely, a note of pride in his voice. "You're getting better."

"I'm trying my best," I mutter. "And not just with the Gaelic."

"I'll lie with you," he says. "But you'll have to scold me if my body gets ideas when I'm in bed with a curvy, beautiful, sassy, stubborn virgin..."

He takes my hand and walks toward the bedroom. Talking about bodies getting ideas... mine lights up as if this is going to lead somewhere nerve-wracking. But I don't let those negative thoughts stop me.

For so long, I dreamed of being with Killian. I just had no clue who he truly was.

Twelve

KILLIAN

Iwrap my arms around her, my body pressed against her back as her breathing steadies and she falls asleep. I can't fall asleep, though, with the round globes of her ass pressed against my groin, my aching manhood and balls flooded with furious need each time she sleepily moans and wriggles in response to her dreams.

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