Page 46 of Her Irish Treasures
“For what?”
Eyes narrowed, he tipped his head to the canvas. “I want you to paint me next.”
I turned to look at the painting and squeaked. Oh shit. Heat scorched my face. When had I asked Ivarr to take his pants off…? Or had I just painted him from a place of imagination? I peeked over at the bed and another wave of heat flooded my cheeks.
Just as in my painting, he lay on the mattress. Stark naked. The long, beautiful, lean lines of his body on full display. His cock erect, his fingers wrapped around the base. Eyes burning like twin suns. Shoulders and neck corded with muscle, as if I’d been tormenting him for hours.
Maybe I had. Shit.
I dragged my gaze up to his. His lips curled in a sensual smile. Not frustrated or angry at me for tormenting him in the slightest. Only that shining sensual heat, promising to fill me to bursting with all the light and energy of the sun.
“Sorry,” I squeaked out again. “I don’t remember asking you to… uh…” I waved my hand vaguely in the general vicinity of the bed. “When I paint, the muse takes over.”
“My pleasure, as always,mo stór.” He chuckled softly, releasing his dick as he sat up. Casually naked, dick out, even with his friends now in the room. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Any luck, Aidan?”
“Not as lucky as you,” he huffed out, scanning the other canvases. “You did all these this afternoon?”
I turned, surprised to find three other canvases, all featuring Ivarr in increasingly fewer clothes. Most of them didn’t have his face or his eyes, just the glorious lines of his body and the same warm golden tones against his shining ebony skin. “I guess so.” I shrugged uncomfortably when Aidan turned another piercing look on me. “When the muse takes hold, I don’t remember much. I just paint.”
Keane let out a low whistle as he looked over the canvases. “Very impressive. I agree, I want to see what your muse thinks of me.”
My cheeks were pretty much on fire at this point. Though yeah, I wanted it too. Now that they were all here, close to me, I could feel a pulse in the air. As if the wheel needed to spin. Magic needed to be released.
Oops. Not a good word choice with one gorgeous man naked and three others wishing they could join him.
Doran let out a low rumble that made my blood heat even more. “We brought food, though now I’m not sure that any of us wish to eat dinner.”
I met his gaze, not surprised to see his eyes heavy and dark. “What are the… uh… rules? Like how does this all work between you?”
His eyes narrowed, creating a chasm in his forehead almost as grim as Aidan’s. “There are no rules,mo stór. What you want, you take. Whenever and however it pleases you.”
5
Such a novel concept.
The thought flickered in my brain, but for a moment, it felt like someone else’s. Someone who had not had much of a say in what happened. Especially in the bedroom.
Not me.
Though the sense of unease rolled back through me, churning my stomach. As if there was a trap buried ahead, just waiting to swallow me up. I hadn’t been happy with Jonathan. In fact, I’d been miserable. I didn’t remember having great sex with him. Or even good sex. Or even… bad sex.
Why can’t I remember?
Aidan seized my arm and dragged me over to the table. Only he didn’t sit me down in a chair. He picked me up and plopped my ass down in the middle of the table. Then he planted his palms on either side of my hips and leaned down into my space. “Who am I going to kill tonight?”
Startled, I leaned back a bit to gain some space. “I’m sorry? What?”
Doran sat gingerly in one of the chairs, as if expecting it to explode into a thousand pieces. His head was still higher than mine, and the snarl on his lips told me this was very serious. “I feel the unease spiraling through you, Riann. We all do. So you’d best start spilling some truths to your treasures so we may better protect you.”
Evidently, it was serious enough that Ivarr scooped up his boxers so he wouldn’t distract me further. He and Keane both came closer to the table, and though it was rectangular and not circular, I could feel the wheel flaring to life with their nearness.
Magic spilling through me. Spinning out with ever-increasing power. The four Irish treasures, and me, their treasurekeeper, the conduit for their magic. It had been so beautiful feeling them all come together around me, both for their magic, and when we’d fucked atShamrocked.
I couldn’t bear to lose that sense of belonging and rightness so quickly.
My eyes burned, but I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t even know why I felt like everything was crumbling away. They’d done nothing to indicate they were upset or unhappy. “I guess I’m having some PTSD from my marriage.”
“Tell us about him.” Aidan’s voice softened, all the hard edges and scowl gone from his face. That shocked me more than him picking me up and dropping me onto the table. He wasn’t ever soft or gentle or kind. Was he? That made my eyes swim even more. “Start with something easy,mo stór. What’s the fucking bastard’s name?”
