Page 47 of Ireland

Straightening, Ronan lifted her feet from the floor and walked toward the dais. She wrapped her legs around him, debated her next move, then gave in to the instinct to press her wet pussy against the flexing ridges of his abs. He stopped mid-stride, capturing the length of her hair around his forearm. He pulled gently, snaring her attention.

“You’re more than a little wild,cher. You’re feral and merciless.”

“You like it,” she gasped, thrusting against the silky line of hair leading down to his penis, marking him with her scent. More,sheliked it. She’d never been so brazen.

“You have no fucking idea.” He lunged toward the bed, taking the short steps in a rush.

They shifted together as they fell, her Krav Maga training and his quick twist enabling them to land on their sides. Their bodies came together in a tangle of passionate need. She clutched at him, her fingers caressing the hard muscles bracketing his spine. Her legs twined with his, her lips open to the skilled stroking of his tongue. When she reached frenziedly to open his slacks, Ronan pushed up onto his knees to give her more room to work, still hunched over her in the searing wild kiss, his hands wandering all over her body as if to learn every inch of her by touch.

Ireland moaned in protest as he pulled away, but he only reached down to yank his fly open so roughly the material ripped. The sudden loud tearing was a shock to her senses… and like a match to tinder. A violent tremor wracked her body, her lust instantly at a fevered pitch. She reached for his cock, feeling the velvety soft tip as it strained above the waistband of his boxerbriefs. She growled when he rolled away from her to reach for the nightstand drawer.

She followed, wrapping herself around his flexing back like a vine. Her lips slid over the sharp talons of ink covering his shoulder and the length of his arm, her hands traveling down his sides and grabbing his devilishly fine ass. He was hard there, too, leanly muscular from head to toe.

“Merde,” he growled, “you’re a menace!”

She almost laughed, but her lips and fingers had run over scars, some faint, others thick and uneven. Pulling back to look, she gave him space to rise onto his knees instead. Ronan held a condom wrapper between his teeth as he shoved his ripped trousers and boxer briefs to his thighs, his cock straining high and hard against his lower belly, the broad head wet with excitement.

A shiver moved through her at his size, startling even though she’d fantasized that he would be extravagantly perfect everywhere. He deftly rolled the condom on without looking, his gaze on her. His chest had a fine sheen of sweat, and his breathing was fast and rough.

Ronan Boudreaux was like a thoroughbred stallion, and she couldn’t wait to ride him. “Hurry up already and give me that big, beautiful cock!”

Laughing softly, he folded over her and pressed his damp forehead to hers. “You’re robbing me of the preliminaries.”

“Tease.” She tilted her head back to lick his lips, her hands pulling at him to lower his strong, solid body to her but unable to move him. “Sadist.”

He cupped the back of her knee and widened the spread of her legs, sinking his hips between them. She squeezed his butt, hurrying him, moaning when he took himself in hand and rubbed the crest of his penis between the slick folds of her pussy.

More.More!Thrusting her hips up, she took the first inch with a breathless cry.

He groaned as his entire body went taut as a bow. “Grab the headboard,” he ordered, his voice so gruff it took her a second to understand him. “Asteur!”

She’d barely managed to press her palms flat against the lacquered mahogany before he thrust deep and hard, possessing her to the hilt. Her cry was thready, her fevered body absorbing the shock of entry, her pussy so wet it gave no resistance. Stretched tight around the thick, unrelenting hardness of his penis, she panted beneath him, eyes wide and unseeing. She was so close to orgasm it was a screaming tension inside her.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, her hips moving in involuntary tiny circles, her body seeking the relief she needed so desperately. She’d never been with anyone so well-endowed, and the feeling of utter fullness was like a drug in her veins, sliding through her in heated pulses of delight that echoed in the rhythmic squeezing of her pussy around his cock.

“Stop moving,” he said hoarsely, his lips moving against her throat. He held his weight aloft with one hand planted on the bed while the other pinned her hips down. “Give me... a second.”

“Ronan…” His name came out slurred, her senses overloaded with the scent and feel of him. The crisp hair on his chest abraded her stiff, aching nipples in the most delicious way, and she couldn’t stop moving, too restless to be still. “Please.”

He circled his hips, and they moaned in unison.

“Bon dieu, you’re tight as a fist.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. A stream of Cajun French poured from him, and she grasped enough to understand that he praised her.Tu es magnifique… exquis… merveilleux.

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she spurred him with her heels, finally taking in their reflection in the mirror above. She saw the scars she’d felt and touched them again, Ronanquivering as her fingertips learned their shape and texture. His ruined slacks were bunched beneath his magnificent ass, the cheeks clenching and releasing as his body urged him to move. That he fought the need to thrust made no sense to her lust-addled mind, and then that became clear, too.

“Let go,” she coaxed, pressing kisses to his temple. “I’m your tigress. I can take you.”

“Ireland…” The sound of her name in his richly decadent voice affected her powerfully.

And then he moved, withdrawing from her in a heated glide. His following thrust was as smooth as his charm but shattered her. She began trembling and couldn’t stop.

Ronan hummed, slid a hand beneath her hip, and lifted her. His subsequent withdrawal was as easy as the first, but his surging drive was hard and fast. Her back bowed as pleasure sizzled through her, her orgasm hovering on the precipice.

“Not just wild,” he noted with hoarse, strained amusement. “You like a hard ride.”

She watched, dazed, in the mirror above them as his entire body flexed on his next forceful thrust. The stroking of that big cock was sublime. The sight of him still partially dressed excited her further. It became a struggle to hold on to him, her arms and legs refusing to cooperate. “It’s y-you,” she told him, her voice breaking. “I’ve never been this hot for it before.”

He kissed her, a lavishly erotic plundering of her mouth that revealed how close to the edge he was. Shifting again, he gripped her by the nape and adjusted the angle of her hips.

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