The Irish Lover (5 page)

When they reached Glenncailty she ignored her
misgivings and took his hand, leading him through the castle to her
room. At the door she fumbled with the key, too aware of Michael’s
hands on her hips, his body warm and solid at her back.

“Let me.” He took the key from her, slid it
into the lock. A moment later they were in. Michael closed the
door. “Mary, I don’t want to rush you, or do anything you’re not
comfortable with.”

Her emotions had been through a roller coaster
today and she felt both fragile and strangely powerful. Maybe this
was a mistake. Ignoring her doubts and fears, she went with what
her heart wanted, and that was Michael.

Rather than replying in words she put her hands
on Michael’s shoulders and kissed him. She opened her mouth,
tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue. He tasted like sugar
and tea, and the stubble on his cheek abraded her. Michael started,
and for a moment she worried she’d been too aggressive, but his
arms wrapped around her hips, jerking her against him.

Their kiss deepened. She nipped his lower lip,
then sucked it gently. Michael’s tongue dipped into her mouth,
tasting her, possessing her. When they broke for air Michael’s
erection was pressed against her belly.

“I’ve just thought of something.” Michael
looked like he was in pain.

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh. I’m on birth control. Have you been
tested?”

“Tested for what?”

Mary’s smiled. “When was the last time you had
sex?”

“Not that long ago…”

Mary tipped her head, giving him a skeptical
look. Michael blew out a breath. “Five years. It’s been five
years.”

“Oh, that’s just sad.”

“No need to tell me.”

“I’m clean and I’d say that with my birth
control we’re safe enough.”

Michael cupped her face, his thumbs caressing
her cheeks. “Mary Callahan, you’re not the type of woman a man
should rush to the bedroom.”

Something in her melted at his words. He saw
her as something unique and beautiful—saw her in a way no other man
in her life had.

“Michael Baker, I’m the kind of woman who knows
what she wants.”

“And what you do want, pretty Mary?”

“You.” She kissed him.

Primal awareness of him tingled through her.
His kiss made her feel alive and wanton. His hands were at her
waist and when she leaned away his hands slid down to her ass.
Catching the hem of his jumper she pulled it and the shirt below up
enough to touch his bare belly. Muscles rippled under her fingers
and Mary wanted to lick him, bite him, make him feel what she
did.

Michael’s hands were on her ass, hiking her up.
She wrapped her legs around him, her skirt riding up to her hips.
She was wearing tights, but they didn’t feel like much of a barrier
as he lowered her to the bed. Reaching for her waistband she
prepared to help him with her clothes, but he stopped
her.

“Let me,” he whispered.

Starting at her toes he stripped her—removing
her boots, then reaching under her skirt for her tights. When her
legs were bare he kissed the top of each foot, then rested her
right heel on his shoulder as he nibbled and licked her
ankle.

Her toes curled. She could feel the simple,
soft touch along every nerve ending in her body.

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.

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.