Page 79 of Her Irish Treasures
“Please,” I finally whispered, locking eyes with him.
“Please what?” He drawled in a rough rasp that made me shiver. Which made me whimper, every nerve ending screaming with sensation.
“Touch me. Make me come.”
He licked his thumb and slipped his hand down between us. Fingers splayed over my stomach, he worked his thumb down my slit until my eyes rolled back in my head.
“Jackpot.”
The roughness of his thumb, the pressure, it was too much. Climax crashed through me, jerking my muscles like I was a puppet tossed aside in a heap of sweaty hair and boneless limbs. I lay against his chest, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t.
Not with him balls deep, as thick and hard as ever.
I gulped. Tried to get my jumbled thoughts together.
His fingers played in my hair, smoothing the damp strands away from my face. “That was for you, Riann. A sweet, juicy little appetizer. But the next one?” He tightened his hand in my hair, drawing a ragged sound from my throat. Part whimper. Part plea. For mercy. For more. I didn’t even know.
He growled in my ear. “The next one’s forme.”
22
Between one breath and the next, I found myself slammed face down on the mattress hard enough that my breath whooshed out. My scalp burned and tingled from his fierce grip in my hair. Pinned, I lay there panting, trying to control my breathing. The last thing I wanted to do was hyperventilate or pass out.
Not before the best part of the scene.
“Stay,” he hissed in my ear, his voice echoing with menace.
He released me and I heard the rustling of his clothing. I lifted my head, hoping to get a glimpse of rock-hard muscle covered in tattoos. Begging to be traced with my tongue.
A sharp smack on my ass startled me.
“I said stay. Don’t move a fucking muscle, or I’ll use your mouth instead of that glorious ass.”
Too many thoughts bounced around in my head at once.
How surprisingly nice that smack felt. I’d never really thought about getting spanked before, but oh yeah, that could definitely—
My mouth watered, my jaws aching at the thought of taking him on my tongue. Straining wide around his meaty girth. Seeing how far I could take him down my throat before I gagged. That could—
And holy shit, my ass? Did that mean…? Did I want—
Cold goo dripped down my crack. Calloused fingers smoothing up and down between my cheeks. An embarrassing sound squeaked out of my mouth before I could stop it. My back arched, my hips automatically lifting my ass up into his caress.
I didn’t know I was into butt stuff. Had I ever done anal? How had he known?
His forearm braced over my shoulders, his palm on the back of my head. Holding me down. His weight settling against me. My heart pounded so hard that black spots floated through my vision. Something stirred deep in my memory, uncurling a tendril of shadow before disappearing again.
Aidan’s cheek pressed against mine, the rough stubble on his jaw bringing me back to the here and now. The rich scent of leather still hung around him, softening his harsher scent of gunpowder and war. He hadn’t hurt me. He never would.
“Are you with me, Riann? If it’s too much, we’ll do something else. I’ll still tear you up missionary style.”
I couldn’t help but laugh even as said pussy convulsed with sheer bliss at the thought. “I’m okay.”
A low rumble vibrated from his chest. “Okayisn’t what I’m after.”
He wanted to be unforgettable. To leave a mark on my memory, maybe even my body, that I’d never be able to wipe from my mind. Of all my men, he was the most possessive. His jealousy had torn the treasures apart in the past. Their treasurekeeper at that time had reveled in his fierce attention, the strife that she brought among the four friends. She’d played them against each other, which had only worsened his darker tendencies.
His fear that he wouldn’t be enough to hold my attention. That I wouldn’t love him as much as I loved the others. Or worse, that I might be too intimidated by his darker urges. That I might be scared of him.
