Those big hands slid lower until they wrapped around Izzy’s waist. Then Éibhear leaned forward, pushing Izzy back, his mouth kissing her mouth, jaw, and throat. When she was bent back as far as she could go, one of Éibhear’s hands released her waist and, seconds later, Izzy felt a finger pushed inside her, followed by another. She groaned louder, her body shuddering.
Éibhear wrapped his lips around her nipple, tugging and teasing it with his tongue.
Izzy’s body went hot, then broke out in a sweat. Her hands gripped Éibhear’s shoulders.
Gods, she felt delirious. Crazed. She couldn’t think straight and felt like she had no control over her body.
He moved to her other nipple, his teeth grazing the tip before he sucked it hard into his mouth and played with it using his tongue. And the whole time the two fingers he had inside her kept stroking in and out, his thumb occasionally brushing her clit. Not enough to make her come, but just enough to drive her insane.
Izzy tried to close her legs, hoping to keep Éibhear’s hand right where it was, thinking maybe she could ride it until she came, but he stayed between her thighs, keeping them apart with his body.
Unable to take any more, she shook her head, tried to pull away. Just to get a few seconds to breathe, to calm down so that she could manage all this. But the hand on her waist moved up her back until his hand cupped her shoulder and held her in place, keeping her captive.
Izzy whimpered, desperate. She didn’t know what to do. She was confused, overwhelmed. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this intense, this out of control. No matter what she may have daydreamed when she was sixteen and had no idea what sex was really about, as a rational adult, Izzy knew sex with anyone shouldn’t be like this. Nothing should. It was too much, too good, too everything.
She pushed at Éibhear’s shoulders and he finally loosened his grip. Relief and disappointment warred inside her as she started to drag herself away. But Éibhear took hold of her thighs, lifted them to his shoulders. Before Izzy could say a word, his head was between her legs and his tongue inside her pu**y.
Izzy grabbed the back of Éibhear’s head with every intention of pushing him away.
Yes. That was her intention. Definitely. Absolutely.
Too bad intentions meant nothing when faced with the most perfect tongue.
Izzy twisted and turned, no longer trying to get away, but simply unable to fight her body’s response any longer.
That perfect tongue moved up, finally settling on her clit, massaging it with the tip until he wrapped his lips around it and began tugging. By the second tug, she was sobbing. By the third, she was screaming, her back arching, her thighs tightening around Éibhear’s head until she was sure she must be killing him. Not that she cared. Not at the moment when nothing could distract Izzy from the orgasm violently ripping through her, tearing her apart from the inside out until she could do nothing but lie on the ground and whimper.Éibhear finally pulled away, his hands stroking her sweat-soaked body while he stretched out next to her. He pushed her hair off her face, gave her a soft smile. “You all right?”
“I hate you,” she whispered. “I’ve always hated you.”
“Lying won’t make this any easier, Iseabail.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his body. She felt his hard c**k pressing against her leg, but he seemed more than willing to wait for her.
Of course that only made Izzy hate him more.
Éibhear knew now why she was mad at him.
Well, at first he didn’t. At first he was completely confused. Until, about twenty minutes later, when she’d climbed on top of him and straddled his waist, sliding his c**k inside her. Then, with those light brown eyes he’d dreamed of more than a thousand times over the years gazing down at him, she rode him. Her hips rocking against him, the muscles inside her pu**y squeezing and releasing his cock, until he thought he might go blind. Even worse, Izzy took her time, her hands stroking his chest, his shoulders. But it was her moans, the wetness of her pu**y, the way her thighs gripped him so very tight that told him what he needed to know.
So, yes, he understood why she was mad at him. Because he felt the same way. Éibhear knew she could ask anything of him and he’d move the suns to make it happen. Knew he’d do anything to keep a smile on her face, to keep her safe.
Pissed off at himself, he gripped her waist and rolled over, pinning her beneath his body. She gazed up at him and he got the feeling she knew what he was doing. Trying to maintain control of an uncontrollable situation. But she didn’t make fun of him or tease him, simply leaned up until she could kiss him, her arms around his neck.
No. He’d never have control of this situation, no matter how hard he might try. It was just impossible. So Éibhear didn’t bother fighting it anymore. What would be the point? Instead, he took her arms from around his neck, pinned them above her head, and f**ked Izzy with everything he had inside him, knowing full well that Izzy was the one female who could handle it.
With her body stretched out, stomach down, Izzy rested her head on her crossed arms and enjoyed the feeling of Éibhear’s hand stroking her legs and back.
“Where did you get this scar from?” he asked, the tips of his fingers moving over the lines of the raised flesh along her back.
“Not sure.”
“Izzy, it’s at least eighteen inches long and dangerously close to your spine. How could you not be sure?”