The Irish Lover Page 4

  She had never been so aroused so quickly before.

  “Michael, I want you, now.”

  “And I want you—” He lifted her from the bed and stood her up before taking a seat. “—to take off the rest of your clothes.”

  Mary stepped back, ducking her head as a little curl of embarrassment dampened her arousal. She was pretty enough, but her belly wasn’t exactly ab-model worthy, her thighs were too fat and she hadn’t had a bikini wax in weeks.

  “Mary, take off your clothes.”

  His words pierced her, and before her insecurities could gain the upper hand she unbuttoned her sweater. Holding it closed over her breasts she looked at him through her lashes.

  Michael sat on the bed, legs spread, hands gripping his knees. His gaze was hooded, focused on her.

  Slowly, she removed her sweater, revealing the camisole beneath. She could tell that he was fighting to hold still, fighting to keep from touching her, and she wanted to make him lose control.

  Rather than pulling the camisole off she slid the straps down her arms. Catching them with her fingers she tugged so the fabric inched down her breasts, revealing the smooth satin of her bra. When the camisole was bunched around her waist she reached for the side zip of her skirt, again moving slowly, deliberately. Once unzipped it didn’t fall, but stayed up, loose around her waist but still covering her.

  Michael made a noise low in his throat as he jerked forward, as if he’d grab her, but at the last minute he settled back.

  Mary took her bunched camisole and pulled it off. She gave her hair a little shake, feeling the long tendrils touching her back. Balancing her forearms on top of her head she looked at Michael. His gaze wandered up her belly to her breasts, then to her face.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Mary closed her eyes. It was nothing more than a cheesy line, one she should have laughed away. But instead it struck her like an arrow to the heart—she believed that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and she loved him for it.

  Opening her eyes she took a breath, then rocked her weight from foot to foot, her hips swaying, until her skirt gave up its tenuous hold and fell to the floor.

  There was a beat, a moment when they regarded each other—her nearly naked, standing before him like an offering, Michael a barely restrained force of nature.

  Then the silence broke. Michael shot up from the bed. Taking her by the hips he kissed her hard and deep. His cock was hot, even through his jeans, against her belly. Mary linked her arms behind his neck and curled one leg over his hip.

  His hands found and undid the clasp of her bra, then slid down her back. His fingers dipped under her panties, cupping her ass. Mary pressed herself against him, wanting to feel the heat and power of him.

  Michael broke the kiss, pulled her bra off and cupped her bare breasts. The cool air of the room contrasted with the heat of his hands. Thumbs rubbed her nipples, rolling them as she made small sounds of arousal she was only barely aware of. Mary grabbed his wrists, wanting to stop him, wanting it to never stop, wanting him to pinch and pull.

  Michael did neither. Dropping to his knees he nipped the flesh below her belly button, then bent his head and licked the seam of her sex through her panties.

  Gasping, Mary grabbed him, grinding herself against his face. She realized what she was doing and released him, trying to pull back, but he didn’t let her. Holding her by the ass Michael worked her with his tongue, each stroke pressing the fabric deeper into the folds of her sex.

  “More, please. Michael, I need more.”

  He rose and lifted her, carrying her the few steps to the bed where he lay her down, then came down on top of her. Catching her panties in his hands he dragged them down and off. Now she lay before him totally naked, while he was still wearing his pants.

  When she reached for him, he evaded her, sliding down her body to lie between her legs. Mary spread her thighs and his fingers parted the lips of her sex. Warm breath fanned her clit and he rubbed her labia, the touch pleasant, but not enough to ease the ache inside her. Frustrated, she grabbed his head, raising her hips until his nose, lips and chin were pressed against her. The stubble on his chin was rough, but she liked it. She wanted rough, she wanted him to take her, own her, make her believe that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  She must have said some of what she was thinking because he lifted his head just enough to murmur, “If that’s what you’d like.”

  Teeth abraded her clit, sending shards of pleasure ripping though her. Capturing the nub with his teeth he licked her with short, hard strokes. Mary thrashed against the bed, her hands pulling at the duvet.

  One finger found the entrance to her body and thrust in. That was what she’d been waiting for, what her body had been craving—the penetration. An orgasm rocked her, but even as she clenched her teeth she wanted more. She didn’t want his finger in her, she wanted his cock filling her, wanted to look into his eyes as he took her.

  Michael pulled back, his lips and chin wet from her sex. Kneeling up he looked at her. His chest was hard with muscle, his arms strong and toned. When he climbed off the bed to take off his pants Mary followed him, dropping to her knees.

  As he kicked his way out of his pants Mary examined his cock—it was thick and long, so hard it was standing up almost to his belly. Grabbing him in one hand she licked the tip, tasting him.

  “Mary,” he groaned hands in fists at his side. “I won’t last if you do that.”

  Ignoring his words she took him into her mouth. It was tight, her jaw starting to ache almost immediately, but she liked this—being on her knees for him, pleasuring him. After only a few strokes of her tongue on his captured cock Michael pulled away.

  “On the bed,” he rasped out.

  Mary scrambled up, but she wasn’t fast enough for Michael who caught her and flipped her over onto her back. Hands hooked under her knees, he pulled her to the edge. The bed was tall enough that her sex was lined up with his cock and he wasted no time taking advantage of that.

  She wrapped her legs around him as he braced his hands on either side of her.

  “Look at me, Mary.”

  She met his gaze and he pressed forward, the tip of his cock finding her entrance and sliding in. Pleasure rippled though her and she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling, but Michael didn’t let her hide from him.

  “Open your eyes Mary, look at me.”

  Again she met his gaze, and that was as intimate as his cock sliding into her until he was buried to the hilt.

  “Michael.” She touched his face as he began thrusting.

  He kissed her palm, then slid an arm under her and lifted her toward the center of the bed. In the next breath he was back inside of her, now kneeling on the bed rather than standing. He came down over her, his chest brushing her nipples, one hand cradling her head. Mary kissed his neck as he rocked into her with gentle strokes.

  Pressure was building inside her, and soon the gentleness wasn’t enough. She dug her nails into his back, his ass, urging him on, demanding more. Lifting himself onto his elbows Michael pumped into her harder, deeper.

  “Michael, oh yes.”

  “Mine,” he said. “You’re mine.”

  The words barely registered as Mary came, her body clenching around him, her toes curling, her body straining under him. Michael took a fistful of her hair and pressed his forehead to hers as he shuddered through his own orgasm.

  When it was over Mary lay panting underneath him. Some distant part of her was processing everything that had been said and done and beginning to worry about what it all meant, but for now she could ignore it, letting herself be coaxed under the covers were Michael joined her.

  As his bare skin touched hers a fresh, if muted, spike of desire went though her. Mary turned, brushing her breasts against his hands. Michael cupped the firm mounds, thumbs lazily toying with her nipples.

  “Can you come again?” he asked quietly.
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br />   Mary blushed, but answered, “I don’t know, I never have before, but I…I still want you.”

  “Good.”

  Michael rose and took one nipple in his mouth, the other between his fingers. Mary closed her eyes. Oh yes, with this man it would never be enough. She wanted more. Now…and forever.

  ~~~~

  Chapter Five

  Mary woke a few hours later. The room was dark and there was a large male form pressed against her. There was a moment of disorientation and she held still. Instead of the anticipated self-loathing or embarrassment she felt content. Smiling, she cuddled closer to Michael, delighted with the feeling. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t slept beside her past lovers, but with Michael it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. He was on his side next to her, an arm and a leg thrown over her, holding and protecting her.

  Closing her eyes Mary tired to go back to sleep, but her body registered a protest. As sexy as it was to have him cuddling her like this, his leg was pressing on her bladder.

  Sliding carefully out from under him Mary tiptoed to the bathroom. As she washed her hands she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her normally straight hair was a sexy mess, and she could see faint red spots on her neck where his stubble had abraded her. She was grinning.

  She forced her lips into a straight line, but the smile was still there in her eyes. Laughing a little at herself she turned off the light before opening the door and tiptoeing back to the bed. Michael had thrown the covers off and his bare chest gleamed in the moonlight that spilled in the window.

  “I thought you’d run off,” Michael grumbled sleepily as Mary climbed in beside him.

  She slid against his warmth, comfortable with him in a way she hadn’t been with other lovers, even those she’d been with for months.

  “Run off? Hardly. I’m hoping to get some more out of you.”

  His teeth shone in the darkness as he smiled. “Enjoyed yourself, did you?”

  “Fishing for compliments?”

  “Ah well, a man needs to know he pleased his woman.”

  She wanted to roll her eyes at the “his woman” comment, but it sent a little thrill through her.

  “Your woman?” She stroked his arm as he draped it over her torso. “And how did a guy from a little Irish village end up being such a good lover anyway?”

  “You wouldn’t want me to tell tales out of school.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “No, but I might send those other women flowers.”

  At that he laughed, a warm, deep chuckle. Mary’s lips twitched in response and she kissed his shoulder.

  The arm across her chest moved and his hand cupped her breast, fingers gently rolling her nipple.

  “Michael,” she whispered, not sure if it was a protest or a plea. Despite being well and thoroughly satisfied only hours earlier, she was instantly aroused by his touch.

  “Yes, pretty Mary?”

  Rather than answer with words she parted her legs a bit. Michael propped himself up on one elbow to suckle her breast while his hand moved down her belly to her sex. When his fingers slid between her pussy lips she closed her thighs on his hand, holding him still against her.

  “Ah now, how can I pleasure you like that?”

  Throwing his leg over one of hers he pulled his hand free from the apex of her thighs and pushed her other leg away, forcing them to part. Demanding access to her most intimate place. That rough handling was replaced by gentler, more seductive touches as fingers danced up and down the seam of her sex and he whispered against her breast, telling her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her.

  Two fingers pressed into her as Michael lifted his head and took her lips in a kiss. His tongue entered her mouth in mimicry of his fingers thrusting into her sex. Mary lifted her arms, curling them around his neck but he broke the kiss to say, “No, put you hands on the pillow, above your head. I want to pleasure you without distractions.”

  Licking her lips she did as he said, her sex clenching around him in arousal from the command.

  “I want you to stay like that.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Well then I’d have to do something to punish you, wouldn’t I?” He withdrew his hand from her sex.

  Mary arched her hips, not wanting to lose that contact, that pleasure. “I’ll be good,” she gasped.

  “You’ll be more than good.”

  Once more he kissed her, fingers returning to their place buried deep within her. His hand shifted as he curled his fingers, increasing the pressure. He started thrusting with his hand in that position and Mary had to bite back a scream as his fingertips rubbed her g-spot.

  That was what she assumed it was, the throbbing pleasure deep within her. No one had ever touched her there, pleasured her that way before.

  “Can you come from just this?”

  “I...I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “Oh I think you will, pretty Mary.” Lips plucked at her nipple before teeth gently tugged the tight bud.

  Each small thrust of his hand rubbed his curled fingers over the sensitive flesh deep inside her as his mouth tormented her nipples. The pressure within her built until she was desperate for a release. She hovered there, on the edge of something wonderful.

  “Michael, please, I’m so close,” she gasped.

  He raised his head, meeting her gaze. His hand withdrew and then he was kneeling between her legs, his cock brushing her clit as he positioned himself at the entrance to her body.

  He thrust in and Mary came. The filling pressure of his cock was all she needed to release the coiled tension within her. Wrapping her arms around Michael, she clung to him, biting his shoulder to stifle her screams of pleasure. As her orgasm faded he thrust hard and fast, until he too came, his panting breath loud in her ear.

  When they were done Michael rolled off her.

  Mary shifted, pointing her toes and stretching her arms up to the headboard. Her stomach rumbled.

  Pressing her hands over her belly Mary looked at Michael.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Must be.”

  “It’s been a long time since we ate.”

  Mary felt alive and full of energy, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night. “Let’s go find food.” She rolled over the top of Michael—who grunted—to get out of bed. “Come on.”

  “Where is it you think we’ll get food at this hour?”

  “I don’t know.” Mary zipped into the bathroom. When she came out she went to the dresser and grabbed the castle map she’d been given at check in. “I think they said something about snacks or refreshments in one of these rooms.”

  Michael groaned and rolled over, showing no indication in joining in her middle-of-the night adventure.

  Rather than being put off, Mary slapped him on the butt.

  Propping himself up on one elbow Michael looked at her. “Are you always this feisty at four A.M.?”

  “Only after really great sex,” she assured him. “Are you coming with me?”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t let you go out alone.”

  There it was again, that little thrill. When they were both dressed Mary took Michael’s hand and dragged him out into the hall. As in any hotel the lights were on, making it hard to tell day from night, except that this hotel hallway ended in a stone wall, set with a narrow window. The sky outside was deep blue and studded with stars.

  “I can’t believe I’m wandering Glenncailty at night. Don’t ever tell my mother that we did this.” Michael yawned as they closed the door.

  “Tell your mom you lied about going to Dublin and instead came here to have mind-blowing sex with me? I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Ah, well, don’t tell her that either, but I was going to say don’t tell her that we’re wandering around Glenncailty Castle at night. When I was young the castle was forbidden ground.”

  “Why?”

  “It was falling apart. A girl from a nearby town fell through the floor and died whi
le I was away at Trinity.”

  “Oh my God.” Mary stopped on the stairs and looked at Michael. “That’s terrible.”

  “It was, God rest her. And it’s also haunted.”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “Really? Haunted?”

  “Now Mary Callahan, despite the accent, you’re Irish and you should know better than to dismiss ghosts.”

  Mary flashed back to that moment the night before, when she thought she’d seen something in the corner of her room, but shook her head. They stopped in the glass hallway that connected the east and main wings, looking up at the field of stars above them. Mary rested her head on Michael’s shoulder.

  “It’s beautiful here.” The night was still and cold above them, but Michael was warm and strong at her back.

  “It is. The sky in Ireland, both day and night, is like nothing else.”

  “I wish my grandparents had come.”

  “Why didn’t they?”

  “They said it’s because they didn’t want to travel, but they fly all the time to go on cruises. I think it’s hard for them, remembering my parents.”

  “This is your home, and theirs, if they want it. If you want it.”

  Mary took a breath, a bit of her giddy mood fading at his serious words. “I think I’m starting to understand that.”

  The foyer had a few lights on, though there was no one there. A sign with an emergency number sat on the registration desk. Following the map they went through the hallway on the opposite side of the foyer. They found the formal front room indicated on the map, but it was sadly devoid of snacks.

  “We could go play snooker,” Michael said.

  “Play what?”

  They went to the Billiard Room where Mary showed off her skill with a pool cue. It would have been better if it had been an actual pool table, instead of a snooker table which was larger and had rails—cushions as they were—and twenty-two balls in addition to the smooth white cue ball.

  After the tenth time she’d bumped him while he was trying to make his shot Michael lay down his cue and grabbed her.