Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
And right now, they were staring at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Did I wake you?” I asked.
“The way you’re squirming woke something,” he muttered.
I gasped, realizing I had been doing just that. And now I could feel him. All of him.
I scrambled backward, sitting on him. That was a mistake. I straddled him, and now the feeling was between my legs. He groaned, gripping my hips.
“That isn’t helping, mo fhiadh beag.”
“Oh God.”
He rose effortlessly, bringing our chests into contact. My nipples were hard and erect, brushing on the cotton of his shirt. My nightgown had ridden up, bunched around my hips. His eyes darkened, and his hold on my hips tightened.
“I should move,” I whispered.
“No. Stay,” he added in a quiet voice.
Staring at him, I knew I should feel embarrassed. Shocked at my brazenness. But instead, I felt powerful. Needy. Desired. This sexy man was begging me with his eyes. Pleading with me to stay. Slowly moving under me, dragging his cock back and forth, biting his lips as if trying to hold in his pleasure.
He reached up, wrapping his hand around my nape and dragging my face to his. He kissed me as if he needed me to breathe. As if my mouth was the only way to survive. He cupped my breast, his huge hand palming me, teasing the nipple, making me whimper.
I slid my hand under his shirt, feeling his stomach clench as I touched him. He pulled back, yanking his shirt over his head and flinging it behind him. I gaped at the map of muscles and tendons, the strength and power they exuded. I shivered, never having known desire so strong.
I had never wanted a man the way I wanted this one. I lifted my gaze to his, seeing the same desire reflected back. And gentleness. I knew if I slid off and left him, there’d be no recriminations, no yelling or accusations.
But I didn’t want to move off him. I felt reckless. Filled with passion. I wanted him.
I bent and kissed him, feeling him fist my nightgown, separating from my mouth long enough to tear it over my head and let it join his shirt on the floor.
We explored each other, tasting skin and muscle, soft flesh and hard sinew. His touch was gentle yet firm. He knew how to pull pleasure from me I had never experienced. He groaned as he sucked at my breasts, muttering about how spectacular they were. He cupped my ass, stroking the cheeks and groaning. Clutched my hips and informed me he wanted me to ride him so he could watch me. I met his eyes, my confidence faltering. He shook his head.
“No. Stay with me. You are so beautiful, Autumn. Every inch of you.”
“I’m—”
“Perfect,” he finished. “Just perfect.”
In seconds, my underwear was torn off, and he lifted his hips, yanking down his sweats. I tried not to react. Even his cock was beautiful. Heavy and hard, the crown already weeping. He suddenly froze. “I have no condoms.”
I met his gaze. “I can’t have kids, and there hasn’t been anyone for a long time.”
He lifted himself up, his mouth grazing mine. “Then we’re perfect for each other. The same for me—on both counts.”
He wrapped an arm around me, positioning me over his cock. I let out a long breath of pleasure, surprise, and shock as he filled me leisurely. I had never felt so full. So stretched.
So intensely needing more. Anything he could give me.
He let his head fall back with a long hiss. “You are so tight. So perfect. How can you be so perfect?” he muttered, then began to move.
I forgot everything else but the feel of him. Of us. How it felt to have him inside me. How the push and drag of him made me whimper and clutch at him. He moved quickly, taking me hard and fast. Sliding his fingers between us and playing with me, making me cry out with the intense sensations building. He groaned and cursed, thrusting deep, playing with my breasts, kissing me, his tongue mimicking his cock. He licked and bit at my neck, and I was certain he was leaving marks.
I returned the favor.
Then the grasp he had on my hips tightened. He flung back his head, the cords in his neck tightening, the sinewy muscles standing out. He yelled out something in Irish, as well as my name, and my orgasm crashed into me, a blaze of heat and ecstasy I had never known.
Then I collapsed on his chest, every ounce of energy used up. I couldn’t move.
I felt him draw the blanket around us, holding me tight. He was still inside me, half hard, a sensation that was all at once unusual and new.
He pressed a kiss to my head after a few moments of silence. “Don’t regret it,” he pleaded.