Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Sorry.” My hands fist in his shirt, yanking it over his head. “Won’t happen again.”
He laughs as I lift my hips off the countertop so he can pull my leggings and panties off, and then he squats, spreads my legs, and buries his face in my pussy, lapping at my core.
“Oh God.” I lean back on my elbows, unable to stay upright, and reach down with one hand to clutch his hair in my fist. “You’re so fucking good at that.”
I close my eyes and let my head fall back.
“Eyes on me, or I stop.”
My gaze flutters open and back to his, and then he licks me, from opening to clit, and every muscle in my body tightens.
“Connor.”
“You’re so bloody soaked, angel.”
“Billionaire.”
“Aye, a ghrá. What is it that you need?”
“You.”
“More specific.” I love it when his voice gets bossy and hard like this.
“Connor.” He pushes his tongue inside me, and I swear to all that’s holy, I’m going to explode.
“Tell me.”
“Please let me come. I need to come.”
He rubs his thumb over that bundle of nerves and fucks my opening with his tongue. I fall apart, my hips pushing, circling, as I ride wave after wave, then Connor’s kissing the inside of my thighs and up my hip to my stomach. As his teeth close around my nipple, I feel him nudge his pants down before the crown of his cock is pressed to my opening, and he slides his mouth to mine with a groan.
“You’re so ready for me.”
“Yes,” I whisper against his lips.
“Is that what you need, mo rúnsearc? Do you need my cock inside you?”
“Please.” My nails dig into his shoulders, and with a satisfied grin on that impossibly handsome face, he slams into me and doesn’t stop to wait for me to adjust to his size.
He pounds in and out, hands gripping my hips so hard, I’m bound to have bruises from his fingertips later, and I can’t wait.
His face is mere inches from mine, and he’s murmuring words in Gaelic that I don’t understand, but they’re so beautiful, they embed themselves right into my heart.
“Mine,” he finally growls in English, biting me just under my ear. “You’re mine, Billie. Every gorgeous piece of you. Inside and out.”
“Yours,” I confirm, hitching my legs higher on his hips. “Always yours.”
He pushes twice more, then grinds against me, filling me so completely and hitting my clit just so until we’re both rushing into oblivion together. He fucks me through his climax. Breathing hard, he braces himself on the counter on either side of my hips and nibbles the crook of my neck, sending more shivers through me, making me tighten around him again.
“Christ, I love you.” He shakes his head and kisses my forehead. “Every glorious inch of you.”
“I love you too, billionaire.” I grin at him, then cringe when he pulls out of me, and we make a mess of the kitchen floor. “I’ll clean that up.”
“I have housekeepers,” he reminds me.
“Oh, hell no. I’m not leaving that for a housekeeper.” I push on his chest and reach for the paper towels, but he scoops me up, tucked under his arm, and carries me out of the room. “Connor!”
“I’ll take care of it before they get here,” he says. “But right now, I want you back in our bed.”
“That’s a lovely handbag, Billie,” Maeve, Connor’s mom, says to me as we sit in the parlor before dinner is served.
Their home is bigger than Connor’s, and I didn’t think that was possible.
I was dead wrong.
The Gallagher family is beyond what I can comprehend as wealthy. Their hotel and resort brand is on par with Hilton, The Ritz, and other luxury hotels, and I get that.
But sometimes, I’m reminded just how filthy rich they are.
I’m in a green Chanel dress with black Chanel heels and a bag from the same designer. All of it thrifted, which makes me immensely happy.
“Oh, thank you,” I reply, glancing down at the bag in my lap. “I was excited to find it.”
“I looked for months,” she says, surprising me.
“You did?”
“Yes, I called every Chanel sales associate I know in Europe and the US, and no one could get their hands on one for me.”
I blink at her, surprised, and aware that Connor and his father are listening to our conversation.
“I have to ask, where did you find it?” Maeve asks.
“At a consignment shop in New York,” I reply with a wide smile. “Just this past week, when Connor and I were there. I was shocked when I saw it on the shelf, and I couldn’t leave it behind because I knew it was hard to get.”
Maeve blinks in surprise. “A consignment shop? Interesting.”
“To be honest, my whole outfit is thrifted.”
Her jaw drops. “But you’re covered in Chanel, head to toe, darlin’. In fact, every time I’ve seen you this past year, you’ve been in designer labels. I admire your fashion choices.”