Page 9 of Irish Betrayal

Harder than he meant to. Weeks—months—of restraint poured into it all at once. His hand came to her jaw, tilting her face up, holding her exactly where he wanted as his mouth moved over hers with a hunger he’d been denying for far too long.

She answered him instantly. That was the worst and the best part.

No hesitation. No pulling away. Just heat, her body rising into his, her grip tightening, her breath catching against his lips.

Daniel groaned, the sound low in his chest as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He could feel the way she fit—perfect, familiar, dangerous.

God, he’d missed this.

Missed her.

His thumb brushed along her jaw, down her throat, feeling the rapid pulse there. Her hands moved up his chest, into his hair, anchoring him, urging him closer.

It wasn’t slow this time. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate.

He broke the kiss just long enough to drag in a breath before finding her again, rougher now, his restraint unraveling completely. His hand tightened at her waist, fingers pressing into her like he needed proof she was real, still here, not already halfway across the world.

Not already gone.

Daniel lifted her against him, pressing her back to the garden wall. She clung to his neck, running her hands through his hair. Blair had always teased him that the white reminded her of moonlight.

His sex was so hard, so sensitive, he dragged his length where it rested between her legs. He did that once, twice, and on the third time, she moaned. The slight vibration against his lips made him crazy. He couldn’t calculate how many nights he’d woken up hard and swollen, that very noise ringing in his ears.

He pulled back, far enough that the garden lights lit his face so that she could read his lips. “Pants off?” Her nod of agreement was all he needed. No sooner had her bare feet touched the grass than he had her sweats pulled down her legs and flung haphazardly across some of Blair’s plants.

There was a rustic garden bench with clumps of soil and a few spades cluttering the seat. In one swipe, he brushed enough to the ground to give him room to sit, clasping Blair’s waist and bringing her with him.

Daniel tugged on her loose t-shirt, and she instantly grasped the hem and pulled it over her head. He’d never touched this much of her skin, never seen so much of it. Every part of her body was silky smooth and covered in freckles, while her long red hair fell down her back and front in crazy spirals, partially covering her lace-covered breasts, which were tiny and perfect just like she was. Her nipples pricked the beige silk, making his mouth water to taste them.

He was mesmerized as he watched his hands skim over her neck, his thumb brushing her lower lip, dipping it low in a pout.

Nothing could have pulled his eyes from the sight in front of him. He was in awe of Blair’s obvious strength from working her gardens every day, and even though she barely stood five feet tall, she had curves that made him groan as he ran his hands over them all.

He dragged down the silken material, reverently allowing his fingers to touch her bared breasts, her nipples scraping against his palms before he flexed his hands and gripped the slight weight, kneading her flesh until she was wildly riding his lap.

He bent to suck her flesh into his mouth, using his tongue to lash and lick her skin. When she cried his name, he froze, her breast popping from his mouth as their gazes met.

Blair hadn’t spoken his name aloud since she was eight and he was thirteen. They’d been playing a game of hide and seek at a big family and friends’ barbecue at Thomas MacGregor’s house in Bunchrew, Scotland.

He and Jonathan had found where Blair, Gray, Bébhinn, and Mags were hiding and scared the ever-loving hell out of them. Blair screamed right along with her friends and shouted his name. She sounded different than the other girls, but he thought it was the most amazing thing to his ears.

She smiled at him now, perhaps remembering the moment all those years ago. He half expected the interruption to end their moment, but her fingers trailed down his front, tugging on the hem of his t-shirt, a mimic to what he’d done to her.

He ripped the offending material from his body so fast that he snapped his teeth together, biting the side of his tongue in the process—not as smooth a move as he’d have liked.

His eagerness was forgotten, as was the fact that they were sitting in a back garden at night, half-dressed and near frantic with need.

His tongue was halfway down Blair’s throat when he felt her slender fingers brush against the button fly of his jeans.

“Blair,” he growled, tapping her chin so she focused on his mouth. “Our first time isn’t going to be in the damn back garden.” He practically swallowed his tongue and part of his brain when she ignored him and gave his fly one hard tug.

The second the buttons released, he groaned as his erection escaped the confines of denim. Blair looked like a wonton siren, half-nude and disheveled, eyeing his black boxer-covered dick with fascinating attention.

Daniel was reeling, barely able to comprehend the position they found themselves in when her roaming hands skimmed the engorged head of his dick. His hips jerked, instinctively wanting every crumb of attention she’d bestow upon his body.

He held his breath as she slowly—slow enough that he was starving to inhale—peeled his painfully tight boxers from his length, revealing the swollen head plus a few inches.

He clasped her wrist before she could draw him out fully, and her gaze jerked up to meet his. “If you take me out, Blair, I’ll be buried inside you in seconds, and I told you, our first time won’t be rolling around in your plants and dirt. Though now I think of it, you’d probably like that.” Her wicked grin sent need pulsing to all his best parts.