Page 10 of Irish Betrayal

He couldn’t help but use his grip on her hips to bring them even tighter together, flexing his hips until she was riding him, their underwear the only barrier.

As their bodies found a tooth grinding rhythm, Daniel took her mouth, their tongues mirroring the in and out drag of sex.

Pulling away, they each pulled in gulps of air. He tapped her cheek to gain her eyes and mouthed, “I want to touch you.”

At her nod of agreement, his fingers were immediately at the apex of her thighs, the damp silk making him groan. He moved the lacy scrap aside until… “Oh fuck, baby. Christ, you’re scorching hot and wet.”

She probably knew he was speaking but doubted if she was paying attention to his words. Her body was paying attention to what his fingers were doing, though. His shaft was partially out and rubbing her while he worked her inside.

It was as though he’d left every ounce of common sense the moment he walked into her garden. They were like animals, all instinct and hunger.

Daniel felt her body stiffen and squeeze and pulse around his fingers, her fractured moan matched his shout as they both came.

It was everything and not nearly enough. He had every intention of carrying her inside and spending the rest of the evening acquainting himself with every inch of her body.

But the moment their tremors began to subside, he felt the moment her euphoria turned to—something else.

It was subtle.

Her hands released their grip on his shoulders. Her body went rigid against him, breath catching—not in lusty desperation this time, but something sharper.

Fear. Again.

He pulled back instantly.

“Blair?”

Her eyes weren’t on him anymore.

They were somewhere else. Distant. Trapped.

“No,” she signed suddenly, the movement jerky, frantic. “No. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have let things go this far.”

His stomach dropped when she turned her face away.

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” When she stood, he followed, both of them righting their clothes.

Once dressed, she shook her head harder, backing away from him, her hands coming up like she needed space—like she needed him gone.

“I can’t,” she signed again, faster now, panic threading through every movement. “I can’t do this—I can’t have you⁠—”

The words hit like a blow.

“What are you talking about?”

But she was still shaking her head, retreating further, her expression shutting down even as something broken flickered underneath.

“Please go.”

Daniel stared at her, chest heaving, mind racing, trying to make sense of the shift—the fear, the sudden wall slamming back into place.

“Blair—”

“Go.”

This time it wasn’t frantic.

It was final.