Page 70 of Bargain with the Irish Devil

I suck powerfully, to the edge of pain. This time, my teeth don’t merely nip—they graze in the threat of a full bite. Once, twice, back and forth between her breasts until I give in and tug with my teeth.

Her squeal of pain is so damn cute. I’m a bastard for loving how she begs me to fuck her, enjoying the way she pleads for my cock.

Kissing my way down to her spread thighs, I lose all cool at the puddle steadily growing beneath her from how wet she is. Once again, the plan is gone—it’s all greedy need and hunger for her sweet juice. All I can remember is not to go near her clit.

Hunger at last sated, I tease her swollen clit with one swipe of my tongue, then another. I lap at her like the melting ice cream cone I told her to think of my cock. At first, the licks are slow and long. Then they’re short and merely grazing. When she’s hoarse from pleading, I give in and suck her clit. She’s close to her orgasm, her body trembling at the precipice when I stop.

Her cry of frustration has me smiling as I trail my tongue over her slick lips before sucking the heated, swollen flesh into my mouth. I begin all over again, licking and sucking every inch of her before giving in to tease her clit before sucking to the edge of a climax—stopping right as she’s there.

I bring her to the edge of orgasm four times before my leaking cock demands to be inside her. Pushing off my boxers, I’m on my knees. I use the bar to bring her legs up until her knees are pressing into her breasts.

Thrusting inside her, we both groan at the sensation. I give her everything she begs for—hard, fast, deep. I’m fucking her for all of three minutes before a sob flows out of her, and her pussy spasms around my cock in orgasm. Damn, I wanted more time. But I can’t fight it and come with her.

I allow my head to fall to hers as I try to keep most of my weight off her. She hums with pleasure as she nuzzles into me. Opening my eyes, I find her smiling.

“I love when we make love, but after, when you’re still inside me, feeling your heartbeat with mine is the best part of all.” She whispers.

“I couldn’t agree more.” I sigh as I kiss her.

CHAPTER 21

Miranda

The alarm is so damn loud. I groan as I burrow into Declan’s body.

“Come on, love. This is your last Monday morning. I don’t want you late and mad at me for it.” Declan kisses me awake.

Did last night really happen? It feels like some crazy dream. Only as I begin to move, little aches bring it all back. I check my wrists and am surprised and relieved there aren’t any bruises showing. Considering how I tugged at them when he was driving me to tears, I thought bruises would be wrapped all the way around.

Declan yanks the covers off me. His blue eyes glitter down at me as they roam over my body. I look down, and oh my god, the little bruises and marks are too numerous to count.

It’s seriously messed up to be thrilled at the sight of them. To be thrilled that he spent almost three hours punishing me last night. Punished? Who gets off on being punished?

I did. Declan punishing me was sexy as fuck. Because he didn’t do it for fun. It was a lesson in learning to stop putting myself down. He wanted to make sure I never forgot it. How could Inotlove this man?

He picks me up and carries me into the shower. As he does so often, he takes his time washing me. Strong and gentle, his hands roam over me, waking me up better than any cup of coffee could.

Once he’s done, it’s my turn. He sighs as he suffers through my greedy hands roaming over him. Okay, my idea of cleaning is not as thorough as his. In minutes, he has me on his lap, and I’m guiding his cock into me. This is the best way to start the day in the world.

Declan dries me off with long strokes of the bath sheet. “Aoife has been to your home and got some of your work clothes. They’re in the guest bedroom. She knew not to come into our room this morning.”

I shake my head. “You think of everything. It didn’t even cross my mind. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“My pleasure, love. Now go on before I tumble you back into bed.”

Giggling, I wrap the bath sheet around me and nearly skip across the hall to the guest bedroom. In the walk-in closet, I study my suits, trying to figure out what to wear. On the advice of a woman mentor, I had my work clothes custom-made. As a plus size, it wasn’t easy to find business suits that flattered me. Separates were easy, slacks and button-down shirts, but they weren’t as well made as the clothing the skinny women around me wore.

The initial cost was painful. However, with the quality of the construction and materials, silk, wool, and cotton, they lasted for years. And in the end, they were worth every penny.

I go with my usual black pantsuit and white silk blouse. The moment it’s on, it feels tight and uncomfortable. It’s not that I’ve gained weight. After weeks of wearing silky, pretty dresses and soft leggings, it feels restrictive.

Trying to shake off the discomfort, I’m relieved to find Aoife also packed my dryer combo brush I’ve come to depend on. I hate flat irons and only use them when I absolutely have to. This thing makes me look like I’ve spent money on a blowout.

Normally, I put my hair in a bun or a slick ponytail. The idea of it gives me a headache now. So, I decide to leave it down.

Downstairs, I find Declan eating breakfast. And my normal breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast waiting.

“What would you like for lunch, dear?” Aoife asks. “Would you like me to pack your leftovers from last night, a sandwich, or there is a last serving of the pot roast from Friday.”

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