Page 9 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
He grabbed me, pushing me back onto the couch and pulling off my shirt and pants, revealing the satin green panties and bra beneath. He squeezed my heaving breasts, nibbling at my hard nipples. His lips traveled down my chest, over my flat stomach and to my clit, where I was already warm and wet, urging him closer. This animalistic part of me, long starved, needed him inside.
He peppered my inner thighs with slow, deep kisses, then he sucked at the satin barricading my pussy. I was wet and hot and soon I was grinding into his mouth, moaning loud.
He slid his fingers past my panties and into my folds, using his thumb to ignite my clit and his index and middle finger to drive deep into my soaking slit. I gave a startled pleasured moan as he pumped slowly at first, finding the rhythm of my body, my grinding, then he sped up his movements, until my cheeks flushed and I was right on the edge of the world, ready to fall off into pleasure, but then he pulled out.
I let out a soft moan, then looked down, edging my body closer to him, like an untamed animal, right on the verge of ecstasy.
He tore off his clothes and shoved his throbbing cock inside. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels pressing into the small of his back as his body moved in perfect rhythm with mine. His warmth surrounded me, drawing me in deeper. He slowed, and I ground against him, hips circling, my movements unhurried, pulling us both into a torturous dance of want and restraint.
My nails dug into his back as I pushed myself harder against him, my body trembling with a tension that begged for release. Needing him more than I ever needed anything in my life. I clung to him as his movements became more desperate, my head tilting back as my moans deepened into something primal. And then, in a sudden rush, I cried out. My soul dropped off the world into pleasure. Into that chaotic ride, and it was all I could do not to devour him right then.
He held me close as I trembled in his arms, both of us breathing heavily. His skin was warm beneath my hands, my heartbeat a frantic rhythm against his chest. After a moment, he lifted me carefully, carrying me through the room as my arms and legs stayed wrapped around him. In the kitchen, he set me down gently on the counter.
He gazed down at me with an intensity that made my chest tighten. His lips parted, and in that moment, I felt utterly undone. He leaned over me, pressing a soft kiss to my mouth before he entered again. This time, his movements were slower, more deliberate. He pushed deeper, his hands gripping my waist as if holding on to me was the only thing tethering him to the world.
My legs rested on his shoulders, my body arching as he drove into me, watching every flicker of emotion that crossed his face.Each moan, each shiver of his body over me, was a reward I greedily drank in.
He slowed, grinding into me in small, deliberate motions. Gently, he spread my legs wider, his fingers trailing down to the apex of my thighs. He pressed against my clit, making slow, circular motions as I writhed beneath his touch, my breath hitching with every pass of his fingers, my body tightening again as the pleasure built.
When I came for the second time, my moans grew louder, my body convulsing as my nails clawed at the counter beneath me. My face flushed a deep crimson, my entire being lost in the moment.
I pleaded his name, “Rory.”
He leaned over me, kissing me fiercely. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, keeping me anchored. Slowing again, he released, stuffing me full of his soul while I let out another series of moans. We lost ourselves in each other and the world outside ceased to exist, and in that kitchen, on that counter, he was my entire universe.
We lay together, entangled in each other’s limbs, then he lifted me up and took me to the couch, setting me down. I stared at him with big, open eyes, like I could see right into the heart of his soul.
Chapter 4
Rory
“Where did you come from?”Maeve asked. Her cheeks were still flushed, making her even more beautiful.
“America— to find you.” I kissed her, contemplating whether or not this was the right moment to tell her everything. But her lips were too sweet, her breath was too warm. I chickened out—just like I did when I first saw her. “Are there any more beers?”
“Downstairs.”
I dressed and made my way down the stairs. The once overwhelming smell of human waste had been replaced with the fresh scent of cleaner. Eliza just set her soiled towel in a mop bucket and stood up. Her clothes were stained, but otherwise, she seemed clean.
She folded her arms, looking me up and down. “Was this whole plumbing thing just an excuse to get upstairs with her?”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“There were easier ways you could have gotten upstairs— less messy ones.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I was a plumber. I had no idea she lived upstairs. Would be a pretty elaborate gamble to hope someone still wanted to sleep with you —let alone kiss you— covered in shit.”
She scoffed, then relaxed slightly. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I was just grabbing some beers. Alright?”
Her eyes flashed up toward Maeve’s door. “Tell her the place is cleaned and closed up. She doesn’t need to pay me extra. But she’s going to have to deal with the mop bucket.”
She left at that, leaving me with a sense of foreboding. Had she known I was coming? It was only a matter of time before Maeve knew why I really was here, and after she went on so long about the bar, I wondered how welcomed my visit would be. Especially after we’d gotten so intimate. I pushed the thought out of my mind and dumped the mop water in the alley before locking up and retrieving two beers from the bar fridge.
Maeve was dressed in a set of cotton gray and purple pajamas when I arrived. She looked at me, then at her outfit, and smiled sheepishly. “I was getting cold.”
“You look cute.” I smiled and kissed her. “Eliza just left. She wanted me to tell you not to bother paying her.”
