The Fire and the Earth: Glenncailty Castle, Book 2 Page 5

  She pushed the dress over her hips, letting it fall to the floor. She wore matching black panties. Her body was all lush, touchable curves and velvety skin. Séan’s mouth went dry. He took a step, forgetting everything but his need to touch her. Sorcha held up a hand.

  “No. You have to go.”

  “I’m coming back.” His voice was low and rough, and Séan was afraid he’d scare her away, but she only smiled.

  “I know.”

  Ignoring her hand, he grabbed her, pulling her nearly naked body against his. God, she felt good in his arms. He kissed her quick and hard.

  “Wait for me.”

  Séan let her go and backed towards to door, worried that if he didn’t go now he never would.

  As he opened the door, he thought he heard Sorcha whisper, “I will.”

  Sorcha went to bed. She’d planned to stay up and wait for Séan, lounging sexily in the main room, but she’d started work early that morning and soon even anticipation wasn’t enough to keep her up. It was either go to sleep or sit up and start making lists of what they’d have to do to close down the hotel. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

  She didn’t know if Séan really was coming back. She didn’t doubt that he wanted to, but she also knew enough about farming to know that anything could and would go wrong. She’d grown up in a small village much like Cailtytown and had gone to school with kids whose families grew grain or raised cattle.

  She’d brushed her teeth, and then applied some pink lip stain—just in case—before crawling into bed.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep before a touch on her hand woke her. She frowned, mind slow to pull away from the sexy dream she was having. Something soft and warm was moving up her arm. She stretched in her sleep and a hand took hers, lacing their fingers together. That was enough to wake Sorcha, though she didn’t open her eyes.

  “Awake?” a gruff voice asked.

  “Either that or I’m having a wonderful dream.”

  “What’s happening in your dream?”

  “A sexy man is in my bedroom, and he’s about to do very sexy things to me.”

  “Then you are awake.”

  Sorcha opened her eyes. Séan was kneeling beside her bed. His hair was wet and his beard was trimmed, making him look much less rumpled than he had only hours ago. His gaze moved over her face, and his expression was serious.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  Sorcha was used to compliments and flirting, but this didn’t feel like flirting—it felt like the truth.

  “Don’t say that.” She cupped his cheek in her hand.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not beautiful.” Not on the inside.

  Now a small smile quirked Séan’s mouth. “You are, but maybe you’re not so smart if you think you’re not.”

  “Ohh, wretched man,” she whispered as she drew him towards her.

  They kissed, long and deep. Cold air washed over her as Séan pushed the covers off her.

  “Mary and the saints bless me,” he whispered as he looked at her. Lip color wasn’t the only thing she’d put on. She wore a green satin and black teddy. The lacy cups barely covered her breasts. A matching thong showed off more skin than her bathing suit.

  Séan sat back on his heels. Grabbing her around the waist, he swung her up to sit on the side of the bed, her legs spread on either side of him. His gaze lingered on her breasts and the strip of black lace that was the only thing protecting her sex from him.

  A shiver of arousal went through Sorcha and she was surprised by how strong the feeling was. She liked sex, liked how it made her feel, but this was more intense than normal.

  Séan’s hands on her ribs inched up until his thumbs nudged the underside of her breasts. Now she wished she hadn’t put on the teddy, because she wanted to feel his hands on her bare skin.

  “I’ve imagined touching you,” he whispered. Séan leaned in and kissed her breastbone, the whiskers on his chin scraping the soft swell of her breasts.

  “I always wondered what might have happened that night.” She threaded her fingers though his hair and resisted the urge to guide his head to her nipple.

  Séan lifted his head from her chest. “I did more than wonder.”

  He hooked his fingers in the lace bra cup and dragged it down, exposing her right breast. Cupping it, he took the nipple into his mouth, while his other hand kneaded her left breast.

  Sorcha arched her breasts into his face and hand. She wrapped her legs around his torso, pulling him tighter against her.

  He rubbed his hands over her belly, breasts and back, pressing the satin and lace against her skin. Catching the straps, he pulled the teddy down so it bunched around her waist, completely baring her breasts and dropping to his knees beside the bed. She watched him looking at her. His hunger was a palpable thing.

  He reached for her, but she caught his hands, moving them away and trying to stand. He was so close to the side of the bed that she was forced to straddle him, her pelvis close to his face.

  Before he could grab her thong, Sorcha reached down and tugged at the neck of his jumper.

  “Isn’t it time I see a little of you?”

  With jerking movements, he leaned back and pulled off the sweater, pulling at the buttons of the shirt he wore underneath until it too was off, tossed aside without a second thought.

  His shoulders were thick with muscle. She wanted to touch him, taste him.

  “Let me see you,” she said, reaching down to tug on him, urging him to stand so she could press herself against him.

  He refused to move, looking up at her from his position on his knees before her.

  “I can’t wait anymore. I’ve wanted you for too long.”

  Before she could scramble away, Séan grabbed her bare ass, fingers strong and rough. She gasped and steadied herself by holding his wrists, which only served to arch her body, pressing her sex closer to his face.

  Séan took full advantage of her position.

  His teeth nipped at the fabric of her teddy where it still covered her belly. She felt the hard edge of his teeth. He kissed his way along the hem, finding bare strips of flesh to tease. Each touch of his broad, wet tongue was electric. The muscles of her legs trembled as his teeth caught the side string of her thong. He tugged it away and then let it snap back, the sound loud in the hush of her bedroom.

  “Séan, you don’t have to do this, let me...” Her voice trailed off as his tongue dipped under the fabric of her thong.

  He whispered against her belly, words as hot as his breath. “I want to do this.”

  Then his head dipped lower, mouth angling up to press against her sex. Sorcha couldn’t stand anymore and collapsed down onto the bed. She gasped as his lips touched her core, the fabric of her panties still separating them. He kissed and licked her, the sensation muted but enough to drive her up to the edge. His mouth moved lower, his beard abrading the insides of her thighs.

  He pulled back only long enough to tug the panties to the side with his teeth. The cold air was a shock against her wet and ready sex. Then there was no time to think or feel anything other than his touch.

  He was gentle and thorough. If she’d been asked to guess, she would have said that Séan would be a gentle and thorough lover. She just didn’t know exactly what that would mean or how it would feel. He kissed her mound, the outer lips of her sex. Then he licked the seam over and over until her body opened for him. His tongue dipped inside, touching her inner lips, before brushing her clit. She jerked at the jolt of pleasure. Her movement took them both by surprise and Sorcha fell back on the bed.

  Séan grabbed her legs, pulling them together so he could draw her thong down and off. Sorcha pushed the teddy, which was crumpled around her waist, over her hips and he pulled that off too.

  Now she was lying fully naked before him, while he still wore his pants. He looked at her with such longing that Sorcha wanted to roll away and cover her face. He looked at h
er in a way that made her think that he saw something more in her than the sexy, ready, redhead.

  This was supposed to be sex, nothing more. All she wanted him to see was this—her naked body, ready and willing.

  He rose to his feet, his gaze met hers and Sorcha sucked in a breath. He was dark, handsome and powerful. Far more powerful and dangerous in that moment than she’d ever fathomed he could be.

  “I wanted to bring you pleasure before…” He trailed off as his gaze roamed over her.

  “You have, you have brought me pleasure.” Arching her back, Sorcha lifted her leg, pressing her bare foot against his shoulder. He turned his head and kissed her ankle, his hands kneading her calf.

  “I want to see you come apart.”

  Sorcha stiffened. She knew what he meant, and she had no problem orgasming from oral sex, but she did not want to come apart. She’d had a hard time putting herself back together after she’d last come apart.

  Sorcha lifted her other leg, hooking her heels around his sides and pulling so he lost his balance and fell over her. He caught himself on his hands, his gaze switching between her lips and breasts.

  “Maybe we should do it together.” She used her legs to lift and rub her pelvis against the rough material of his pants.

  Her words and movement were stopped by his lips. The kiss became a battle, tongues dueling, lips nipping. He tangled a hand in her hair, tugging her head back and holding it still so he could lick and kiss her throat. Her fingers raked his shoulders as he licked his way down to her breasts.

  His body was a solid weight in the cradle of her thighs, and with each touch her need grew. She didn’t want kisses and licks—she wanted to feel his cock pressing into her, opening her, filling her.

  “I want you,” she moaned. “I want you in me. Now.”

  “Are you ready?” His hand slipped between her legs, fingers sliding along the slick moisture of her sex. He pressed one, then two fingers into her.

  “Yes.” She tried to reach between them and undo his pants, but she couldn’t reach. She settled for pushing on his shoulder until he rose to stand beside the bed. She sat up and together they made quick work of his pants. He kicked them off even as Sorcha grabbed the waistband of his briefs and shoved them down to his knees.

  His cock was thick and hard, the tip wet. It bobbed as Séan kicked off his pants and Sorcha took hold of it. As soon as she did, he went still.

  “I’m barely controlling myself,” he warned her.

  Sorcha had a crazy urge to slip off the bed and take him in her mouth, pleasuring him until he trembled, until he was vulnerable the way he made her feel. But then she wouldn’t feel that thickness opening her, stretching her.

  Reluctantly she released his cock. He fumbled with a condom packet, tearing it open and rolling it on. He shuddered a little when it was on.

  Sorcha pushed the sheets and duvet off the bed. It was late and there was a chill in the air, but she knew she wouldn’t have to worry about being cold. She slid to the center of the bed and lay on her side. She traced her fingers up and down her belly, occasionally circling her breast with her fingertips. His gaze tracked the movement of her hand.

  She took her nipple between finger and thumb, pinching and twisting, pulling hard, showing him that she wasn’t as delicate as she looked, that she wanted and need more. He came down on the bed beside her, stretching out. His hand kneaded her thigh, making its way up towards her sex.

  This time Sorcha didn’t make it easy. She crossed her legs and bent her knees, forcing his hand away from her. Séan’s gaze met hers. He broke the stare to grab the ankle of her upper leg, holding her foot steady so he could kiss and nip at her arch. His attention moved higher, over her calf to her knee.

  When he could go no further, he grabbed her legs and forced them open, baring her to his gaze, his hands and his cock. She was willing, more than willing. She needed him, but she wanted that—wanted the sensation of being forced to yield, made to give in.

  He pinched the lips of her sex, then with finger and thumb pushed them open, baring her to his gaze.

  “You like it like this, rougher.” His words wavered between a statement and a question.

  “Sometimes.”

  He released her legs and shifted so he lay between her splayed thighs. “You’re wet, ready.”

  “Then you should take me.”

  “Look at me.”

  Sorcha’s hands fell away from her breasts and she met his gaze. He was both the mild, kind man she’d known for years and someone new, someone dark and intense. He slid up, his cock pressing into her thigh, her ass, before resting in the cradle of her sex.

  “Hold on to me.”

  Sorcha wrapped her hands around his shoulders, keeping eye contact. His eyes were brown and gold and green. There were wrinkles at the corners from squinting. In his eyes she saw a reflection of herself, and who she was to him was someone far more beautiful and pure than she was. But now, caught up as she was in the pleasure, she didn’t fear it—she reveled in it. She wanted that pure, beautiful girl he saw to be ravaged by him. Wanted to be taken and pleasured—to give up control in a way she never did, even in sex.

  The head of his cock rubbed up and down the cleft of her sex, bumping her clit.

  “Sorcha,” he whispered, his accent thicker, his voice deep.

  He filled her with one hard thrust. Sorcha threw back her head and screamed as the pleasure crackled through her body.

  This was the moment of her greatest pleasure. That amazing sense of being filled, of her body opening and yielding in the most primal way.

  He looked down at her, and she could see that he wasn’t sure if she’d really just come. Most men loved that about her—now they were free to take their pleasure, and for Sorcha the rest of the coupling was just afterburn.

  “Keep going,” she reassured him. They were words she’d said before, and she wished she hadn’t resorted to them, even as she said them. “That was wonderful, now it’s your turn.”

  “That was one,” he said, pulling out.

  He thrust in again, hard and deep. Sorcha’s teeth clenched as a fresh wave of pleasure rattled through her. Her gaze flew to Séan’s.

  “I’ll be having more from you than just that,” he assured her, with a wicked smile.

  Sorcha opened her mouth to assure him that she was more than satisfied, but she never got the words out. Her breath caught, her pulse raced, and her toes curled against his calves. His fucked her with slow, deep thrusts. His thick cock caressed her with each stroke, touching the places inside her that made her belly flutter and skin tingle. It was like an endless wave of pleasure.

  “More, more,” she begged, barely aware of what she was saying. “Take me, please, Séan, take me.”

  With a growl, he pulled out and rolled to his side, then stood beside the bed. He hauled her to the bottom of the mattress, then pulled her up to stand beside him. Her legs were quaking and Séan’s gaze was wild. He guided her to the chest of drawers. She looked at him, confused.

  “Reach back and hold it,” he said, guiding her into position. When Sorcha had her hands braced on the cool, heavy surface, Séan grabbed her legs, locking them around his waist. Sorcha leaned back, putting the weight of her upper body on the dresser and holding herself up with her arms.

  One hand cradled her ass while the other held her thigh, keeping her locked in place. His cock found her sex, nudging its way in.

  Sorcha screamed, fingers clenching hard around the edge of the dresser top as Séan’s cock penetrated her. He could go deeper like this, and she felt every beautiful, thick inch of him.

  “Oh yes, oh, Séan.” Sorcha tipped her head back, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn’t have to look at the upside-down world. “I feel you, I feel all of you.”

  “You’re mine.” He took his hand from her leg just long enough to fondle her breasts before shoring up his hold on her. “Hang on,” he said.

  His hips pumped, his cock tunneling into her, each
thrust deep, even as the pace increased. Sorcha was helpless, utterly helpless and at his mercy. Her body bounced as he fucked her, her breasts jiggling, her hair thrashing against her back and arms. A third orgasm shook her, and Sorcha screamed and moaned her pleasure. Vaguely she had the thought that she was glad they were so far from the castle so no one could hear her.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he growled. “I can feel you clenching around me.”

  Séan hoisted her, Sorcha’s upper body smacking into his chest. The orgasm was still riding her and Sorcha took fistfuls of his hair, savaging his mouth in a deep, wet kiss. Séan spun and slammed her back against the wall, his hips now thrusting quick. He buried his face against her collarbone as her nails scored his back. She felt the orgasm overtake him, felt it in the tension that pulled him taut as a cable. The muscles of his chest and back were massive and hard against her breasts and under her fingers. She felt overpowered, owned, used in those final minutes as he drove himself relentlessly into her.

  He shouted as he came, his teeth closing around her shoulder. Sorcha didn’t mind the little stab of pain. She liked it.

  He shuddered, his hips slowing and then stopping. He released her and her legs slid from around his waist, though she was still pinned to the wall by his body. His shuddering breath rattled in her ear. Sorcha ran her hands lazily over his back, wincing when she felt the raised lines of welts her nails had made.

  “Sorcha.” There was a note of concern in his voice. He eased back just enough to look at her.

  “Séan.” She took his face in her hands and placed a light kiss on his lips. A lump rose in her throat and her eyes prickled with tears. She willed them away, forcing a smile as she said, “That was amazing.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yes, it was.”

  They stayed that way for a moment, hands cradling one another’s faces, gazes locked. “You’re not what I expected,” she said.

  He frowned. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you.”

  “You didn’t. I liked it…very much.”