Page 14 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
Her eyes met mine, heavy-lidded and full of something deeper than desire— something that made my heart clench. Without a word, she pulled me in, and when our lips met, it wasn’t just hunger.
It was gratitude.
It was devotion.
It was love, spoken in the way we held onto each other like neither of us ever wanted to let go.
I was teetering on the edge, poised at the brink of ultimate unity between our souls —her breath hot in my ear, the wind a steady force at my back— when a voice cleaved through our world, shattering the moment.
At first, the words were distant, muffled, lost in the haze of ecstasy and the way the world had begun to shift, colors sharpening, reality dissolving into something ethereal. With Maeve, I had found heaven, a place that existed only in her arms. But then, clarity struck like a cold blade, and I understood the voice for what it was— an intruder.
“Hey!”
I pulled out of Maeve, readjusted my clothes as she fixed hers, and then turned to the voice. It was an older woman coming up the mountain. But the woman wasn’t looking at us. She had her back to us as she faced a small brown dog running across the mountain. “Hey! Get back here!”
Maeve laughed, which made me laugh. Her cheeks made bright and red from our escapades suddenly went a deeper scarlet. And I could only guess how I looked with my face wet from her sweet juices, rubbed red by her recently shaved pubes. I didn’t care, though. We were free and laughing. I was the happiest I’d felt in a long time, so I kissed her. Holding onto this moment for just a little while longer. Just enough to come back to this many times over.
“Did you finish?” she asked.
I shook my head, then said, “I don’t think I could finish with our new friend watching.”
Maeve nodded, then she stood up. “Then we’ll have to go somewhere she can’t find us.” She took my hand and led me down the hill, back to my car. I’d had sex in the backseat of a car before, but it was always just a little too cramped. Besides, a few cars had parked nearby and there was a couple with a dog walking past us. No way could I finish with all of this going on.
“Why don’t we head back to the bar? There’s still daylight enough to look over the plumbing,” she said.
I shouldn’t have been entirely surprised when she said that. After all, if we couldn’t finish on the mountain or in my car what was the point? But I was still just a little disappointed. Still, I agreed. There would be other opportunities with Maeve. I was happy to have pleased her so much, and I’d do it again just to see her smile like that.
Back in the car, as I drove down the mountain, and a question of where we should eat at the tip of my tongue, Maeve’s hand came to my zipper.
I glanced at her, and she smiled at me wickedly.
“Ever done roadhead?”
I hadn’t, though I’d been close with an ex a few years ago. But this was different. This was Maeve.
The mid-day air was cool against my skin, the hum of the car’s engine steady beneath us, a quiet rhythm in the stillness of the road ahead. The world outside was endless, a stretch of asphalt and green encroaching grass. But inside, within this small, intimate space, there was only her—only us.
Maeve unzipped me slowly, her fingers delicate, deliberate. My breath hitched, anticipation coiling tightly inside my chest. Her touch was warm, reverent, as if she were rediscovering something she had longed to hold.
She stroked me gently, coaxing me to fullness. The heat of her breath, the softness of her lips as she pressed a kiss to my tip. It sent a shiver through me, a wave of sensation that climbed through my spine and wrapped itself around my heart.
Her mouth took me in, slow, deep, a willing surrender that left me gripping the wheel harder, my knuckles white. A moan tangled in my throat, my pulse quickening as she moved, as she enveloped me with a devotion that made this more than just physical. It was trust. It was intimacy. It was the quiet confession of a desire neither of us had put into words but had always known.
I fought to keep my eyes on the road, but it was impossible not to glance down, not to watch the way she gave herself to this moment, to me. Her fingers gripped my thigh for balance, her movements measured. She wanted this as much as I did. She wanted me.
The pleasure was overwhelming, spreading from my core outward, a tension winding tight in my belly. I tried to hold on, to savor it, but Maeve knew exactly how to unravel me, how totip me over the edge, her tongue, her lips, the way she let me feel her need for me.
A deep, aching pleasure swelled, consuming every thought, every restraint. My breath came in short, shallow bursts, my grip on the wheel tightening as my body surrendered to the pull of release. Maeve held me through it, took all of me, her tongue soft, her mouth warm, her every movement whispering devotion.
When it was over, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her gaze lifting to meet mine. And then she smiled— small, knowing, radiant.
“There we go,” she murmured, a teasing lilt to her voice, but beneath it was something deeper. A quiet satisfaction, a secret shared between just us.
I reached for her, pulling her close, capturing her lips in a kiss that tasted of heat, of intimacy, of something we weren’t ready to name but couldn’t deny any longer. This was more than just release. This was a moment we would remember, a turning point, a promise of something neither of us could turn away from.
Chapter 5
Maeve
