Kelly Jamieson - Irish Sex Fairy

And he did.

He slid his hands beneath her back and plucked at the clasp of her bra, opening it easily. Then he drew the cups away from her, slid the straps down over her arms and tossed the lacy garment aside. He looked at her and she tingled and tightened even more beneath his heated gaze.

“You have got the prettiest breasts in the world,” he whispered, and the awe and admiration in his gaze and in his voice drew everything inside her up into a tight ache. “They’re so perfect.”

“They’re…small. And I’m kind of…bruised.”

“Phhht. You know they’re perfect. And the bruises will fade.” He laid his hands on her rib cage so his fingers and thumbs circled them. Then he bent his head and feathered a kiss over her bruises. “Exactly how I like them. Round. I like how your nipples point up. I like how your nipples pucker…” He leaned down and licked one. She shivered. Hard. “Like that.” He licked the other and another shudder racked her. “I like how your nipples are such perfect, hard little points. How they taste…” And he sucked one into his mouth. “So sweet,” he mumbled around it. He sucked again, harder, and her hands went to his head, tried to fist in his hair but it was short, cop short. He’d worn it longer years ago. She raked her nails over his scalp and he gasped. He moved to the other breast, took her nipple gently in his teeth and bit.

Her back arched, lifting her breasts higher to his mouth, sensation sizzling through her veins, pleasure zapping from nipple to womb, flooding her with erotic need.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, sucked and nipped and licked until she thought she would go insane. Nobody had ever so generously tended to her sensitive nipples and she writhed and twitched beneath him, until he lifted his head and gazed at her chest. Her nipples felt like they were glowing, hot and red. She tried to breathe, her chest aching and tight.

“That feels so good,” she whispered, fingers slipping from his head to his neck, caressing his hot skin.

“Oh yeah.”

He moved against her, and she became aware that he was aroused, fully aroused, his erection pressing against her hip. She reached for him, wanting to touch, to feel his silky hardness and yes…she sucked in a breath as her fingers closed around him, burning hot, hard and throbbing. She stroked him, eliciting a gasp and a groan from him.

“So good,” he said, pushing into her palm. “So good, Keara.”

“Yes.” She stroked him, but she needed more, and she lifted her hands to her mouth and wet each palm with her tongue, then returned to him, slicked her wet hands over him and he jerked hard.

“Christ, Keara.”

She liked the way her hands slid now, lubed up and slippery, up over the head, back down, and he thrust into her grasp, eyes closed. “God yeah,” he whispered. “So fucking hot.”

“So hard,” she whispered in return. “Hot and hard. Big and hard.”

He made a low growling noise and she stroked faster. Harder. She remembered he liked it like that.

“Yes.” His hips moved.

“I want to suck you.”

His eyes flew open and he twitched in her hands. “Hell yeah.”

They shifted on the bed, and Keara knelt between his thighs, pressing them open with her palms. His erection thrust up before her, but she wanted to enjoy every second of this, every taste, every smell, so she bent her head and pressed kisses to his thighs, licked the crease of his groin, pressed her nose to the curls at the base of his penis. She inhaled slowly, loving the male scent of him, spicy, warm and sexy. She licked him, up and down, slowly, lusciously, let more saliva slide out of her mouth onto him then took him in. Her tongue swirled around the satiny head, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, lips wet and lubricious, and then she relaxed her throat to take him deep.

“Jesus,” he croaked, hands on her head, guiding her. “That feels incredible. Your mouth…Keara. Your lips…”

She kept moving up and down until he pulled her away from him, hands in her hair, and although she missed him filling her mouth, she loved the pleasure-pain in her scalp. She moaned.

“I’m gonna come,” he groaned. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Yes.”

He rolled to the side and yanked open the drawer of the table beside the bed and Keara smiled when she saw the three boxes of condoms. He fumbled around and finally produced one, ripped it open and rolled it on.

“Uh…” She was going to say something about how it was kind of too late to worry about that, but she appreciated his thoughtfulness and let him glove up. Instead she smiled wickedly. “I thought you were going through a lot of those things.”

He grinned back. “I wish.” Then he rolled her over onto her back and moved over her. “I still feel like this is too fast. I could play forever with you. There’s so much I want to do to you…”

“I know.” But she needed it as much as he did, aching between her legs, throbbing inside her, thick desire swirling and bubbling, flames burning at her, licking over her with hot need. “Do it, Shane. Do it now. We’ll play later.”

“Yes.” His jaw tightened as he pushed into her again, and God! It felt so good, a stretching heat, a shimmering fulfillment. She arched against him, grabbed his back, slid her hands down to his ass and pulled him tighter to her, deeper, as deep as he could get.

Little yearning noises, gasps and the slick sound of his body inside hers filled the room as he penetrated her and fucked her. She whimpered, lifted her legs, opened to him and held him to her. When he slipped a hand between their damp bodies and found her clit, she cried out. Again, nobody had ever done that for her, ensured her orgasm, attended to her pleasure. She tightened inside, around him, big and filling her, let his fingers stroke over her while his cock stroked inside, two sources of pleasure mingling and twisting into one, coiling together, tighter, higher until she thought she might burst. And then she did burst, an explosion of sensation, sparks shimmering over her, colors shattering behind her eyelids, and she hung on to him so she didn’t fly apart.

She felt him explode too, his body taut against her, surging into her in long, hard thrusts, noises of pleasure and torment rippling from his throat.

He covered her mouth with his and drank from her in a long, ravenous kiss as he throbbed inside her and she quivered around him in aftershocks of delight.

The ringtone of Shane’s cell phone somewhere in the bedroom aroused them from a drifting, languorous state of near-sleep. His warmth and heaviness felt so good, his arms around her, her head on his chest.

Keara lifted her head and gazed around the room.

“Shit,” Shane muttered, rolling away from her and out of bed.

He found the phone attached to his pants, lying in a heap on the floor. “Yeah?” He stood there, naked, his back to her, and she admired the curve of his back, the smooth ridges of muscle sloping down to two deep indentations just above the finest buttocks she’d ever seen. She smiled on a soft breath out. “I got tied up,” Shane said, and glanced at her with a lifted brow. “I may be a while longer. Why?” He listened. “Yeah, okay. Do that, that’s fine. I’ll see you later.”

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it on the bedside table before sliding back under the duvet cover.

“Don’t you have to go back to work?”

“Yeah. But we have a little longer.” He reached for her and slid her up against his hard warmth. “This is too nice to leave.”

“Mmmm.” She couldn’t argue with him there. She snuggled in again, a feeling of peace and contentment sliding over her. “You know, I didn’t make that story up.”

“What story?”

“About the SUV forcing me off the road.”

“I never thought you did.”

“Oh.” She listened to his heart thudding, strong and sure, beneath her cheek. “Okay. I think that other guy…what was his name?”

“Curtis.”

“Yeah. I think he thought I was totally making it up.”

“Possibly. We do tend to get a little cynical.”

“I just wanted you to know that…” She tipped her head back. “I didn’t make it up, but…I’m worried that maybe I’m going crazy.”

His mouth quirked. “You are, huh? Why are you worried about that? Because of the PTSD?”

“Well…” She cleared her throat. “Yes. And because of what happened at home just before I came here.”

“What happened, Keara?” He stroked a hand down her back, reassuring and strong.

She told him about the break-in at her condo and how it had turned out to be nothing. “My mind seems out of control lately,” she confessed to him, hiding her face against his chest again. “I also had a panic attack a couple of days before that when I tried to visit the bank. That’s never happened to me before. I didn’t believe it was a panic attack, but the doctor said it was classic. My mind and my body seem like they’re beyond my control sometimes. It…it scares me.”

“It is scary.” He pressed his face to the top of her head. “It’s terrifying. And nobody understands it, unless they’ve experienced it.”

She lifted her head to look at him, remembering what he’d said that night at his parents’ home. “You had PTSD, too?”

“Yup. It was humiliating. I hated to admit it, but like you, I couldn’t hide the things that were happening to me, the reactions I was having to stuff. Thank God for my parents, who recognized what was going on and made me get help. If it wasn’t for them…” His mouth tightened. “I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“So you know what’s like. But did you imagine things happening that weren’t real?”