Page 14 of Fighting for Irish


  Her bright smile said she was, and damn if he didn’t want to make sure she stayed that way every day of her life. She kissed the pads of her fingers and lightly placed them on the kitten’s head. “Sweet dreams, Murphy.”

  Ah, hell, the woman was killing him for sure. Rising from the floor, he helped her up and crossed toward the door so he wouldn’t have to whisper anymore. He cleared his throat and stuck his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out for her.

  “I should go. Let you get some sleep.” He opened the apartment door and added, “Make sure you lock up behind me.”

  “Irish?”

  “Yeah?”

  Standing in the middle of the room in that damn uniform again—if he had his way he’d burn that fucking thing and never let her wear anything other than colorful sundresses—she twisted her fingers together and chewed on her lip for a few seconds. Maybe she was nervous about her safety. The only reason he wasn’t was because he knew the assholes were right across the street and they knew she was in her apartment thanks to the metal chunk in her arm. They had no reason to bother her as long as they knew where she was and he held up his end of the bargain.

  “You’ll be safe, I promise. Those guys aren’t coming anywhere near you ever again.” Or I’ll personally tear out their insides.

  “I know that. I trust you.”

  Jesus, twist the knife a little more. “Then what is it?”

  “When you said you could only give me one night…”

  Just the mention of having her at all had him getting hard in his jeans. “Yeah?”

  “Well, we didn’t really get that. So I thought maybe tonight you could, I don’t know…stay?”

  The hand on the doorknob tightened. Pressing the metal into his palm until it hurt was the only thing keeping him sane while she nervously asked him for something that both excited and scared her.

  “You sure, kitten?”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. Holding her gaze, he closed the door, flipped the locks, and secured the chain before slowly walking to her. His hands moved to her small waist as he stepped in close. Her hands slid up his arms and stopped at his elbows as though she wasn’t sure she should hold him any closer. He hated that there was any space between them, but he’d allow her her baby steps if that’s what she needed to feel safe.

  Ever so gently, he kissed her lips. She didn’t shy away, but met him with a quiet intensity of her own. He let her set the pace and take the lead. He didn’t want to take things further until he was sure she was ready. They came together again and again, sometimes pressing firmly as they breathed each other in. Sometimes touching with no more than a whisper as they teased themselves with the promise of more.

  It was that “more” that had Aiden’s cock straining for release and his brain fighting it back to wait until she made the first move. Then again, maybe she wasn’t as ready as she’d thought.

  Pulling back, he cupped her face with his hands to still her. “I don’t want you to think we have to do anything you don’t want. Sex is not a condition of my staying the night. I can just hold you and be perfectly happy with that.”

  “I’m not hesitating because I don’t want to be with you. I know you’ll stop if I tell you.” She lowered her gaze and a slight flush colored her cheeks as she whispered, “I’ve never had that before.”

  A silent rage washed through him for the horrors she must have endured in her past. “Look at me.” He waited the extra second it took her to obey before speaking again. “No man should ever push you for more than you can give. You have a goodness inside of you, Kat. And that goodness recognizes itself in others. So you listen to that. Trust it. And don’t go near anybody who doesn’t have what you got. You understand?”

  She took a while to answer, like the concept had to sink in past all the negative shit that had built up in her head over the years. Finally, she nodded. He pretended that the need to give her a pep talk like that didn’t break his heart and moved on. ;“So tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

  “I want my night with you. But I’m scared I’ll slip inside myself again. I mean, what if I can’t be with a man without doing that? What if somehow I’m broken?”

  “Baby, you’re not the one who’s broken. The assholes who mistreated you, they’re the broken ones. You did what you had to do to survive them.”

  Worry etched her face as she shook her head. “But I did it with you just last night and I knew you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I wanted what we were doing.”

  She was right. Something had triggered it and neither of them knew what. He’d give anything for a psychology degree right about now. “So we’ll go slow and if I see you start to fade, we’ll stop. There’s no pressure, and you can lead. I won’t make a move unless you do.”

  Again she shook her head. “No, I don’t think— Can…” She took a deep breath and pleaded with her light blue eyes. “Can you lead, but do the going-slow thing?”

  Aiden wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close forever so no one could ever put that look in her eyes again. The people who wronged her when she was young should be bound and tortured as they’d done to her, whatever it was. Maybe someday he’d do some hunting, but his only concern now was to give her what she wanted—what they both wanted—and show her how good he could make it for her.

  “Ah, kkitten, I can do more than that.” Picking up the end of her braid, he slid the elastic from it and began to unweave her hair. “I wanna make you feel things you never thought possible.” He brushed the golden-red waves behind her shoulders and sank his fingers through them at her nape. “I wanna give you nothing but good things to remember from now on. So the past can never touch you again.”

  And with that promise, he kissed her.

  Aiden entered her mouth and stroked her tongue with his, guiding her in the erotic dance. Not fast or forceful, but slow and deliberate. He took his time with each step before progressing to the next. He wanted her to feel every moment, every connection their bodies made.

  They broke apart, their breaths sawing in and out. With every exhale, a measure of tension left her body even as her pulse raced beneath his thumbs. Blue eyes bright with desire caged him. Swollen cherry lips tempted him. He breathed her in, then went back for more.

  …

  They kissed with an earnest restraint. Their breath, erratic as air, became secondary to the need for each other. Hands roamed and groped, but with a slowness that defied their intensity.

  Aligning their bodies, he rolled his hips, pressing his hard length against her sex. He hit a certain spot and a hot spark of pleasure set off deep in her belly. She gasped and her knees buckled for a split second. It was intense, unlike any sensation she’d felt before. And she wanted more of it. Lots more.

  “Do that again.”

  “What, this?” He did it again, harder. She swore and dropped her head back as she relished the tingles that zinged along her nerve endings.

  Irish attacked her neck. Licking. Sucking. Biting.

  Oh, damn, that feels good.

  That shouldn’t feel good, should it? Biting should hurt. It would leave marks.

  So then why do you want him to do it again?

  Because she was fucked up, that’s why. Good girls—normal girls—wouldn’t like it. But she wasn’t either of those things, so there was no use dwelling on it.

  He reached down with one hand and grabbed her ass. She ,palmed his erection over the fly of his jeans. He hissed in a breath and bucked into her hand. “Fuck, baby.”

  She whimpered as her hips rocked back and forth of their own volition, her body clenching on an emptiness that made her want to cry.

  “Shh, I know. A little at a time, sweetheart.” Irish pressed one of his thighs between hers. Her pelvis rolled forward yet again, but this time she rode the unyielding muscle against her core. She gasped as the friction and pressure eased an ache inside her while igniting an entirely new one that tightened by fractions deep in her belly.

 
He rucked up her tight skirt and pulled the elastic waistband of her thong down so it hooked beneath her ass. His talented tongue continued to distract her from her fears as he cupped her bare flesh, each of his large hands encompassing a cheek with his fingertips tucking into her crevice. Wanting to assure herself she affected him as much as he did her, she ran the heel of her palm down the length of his rigid cock. He groaned in her mouth and his hands squeezed reflexively, pulling her ass apart and stretching the delicate skin between.

  She inhaled sharply at the slight sting and cried out as her womb clenched even tighter and trickled more liquid heat onto his leg.

  He buried his face in her neck with a mumbled, “Jesus Christ.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” He pulled back enough to look at her. “In fact, something’s very right.” She furrowed her brow, not understanding. With the pad of his thumb, he smoothed the worry from her forehead. “Stop worrying. Your body’s just telling me what it likes, is all.”

  “It is?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Yeah, it is,” he said with a quirky smile. “And the last thing it said was wicked pissa.”

  Okay, she knew in Crazy Boston Speak “wicked pissa” somehow meant “awesome,” but how could Irish know what she wanted when she didn’t have the first clue?

  “Well?” she prompted a tad impatiently. “Are you going to tell me what exactly it is it’s saying?”

  “No.”

  No? “Why not?”

  “Because we’re taking things slow, remember? And that,” he said with a nip on her lower lip, “is nowhere near slow.”

  She huffed at the shit-eating grin on his face. He merely chuckled. “I can tell you that your body says it wants me,” he boasted before latching those magical lips to her neck again.

  Kat knew pride was about to make her eat her size seven shoe, but like a runaway train, she couldn’t stop it. “I suppose that’s possible. Or maybe,” she taunted even as she had to choke back a moan when he hit some special spot below her ear, “I’m just really good at faking it.”

  He eased back, his eyes narrowed to slits, and she swore she heard a growl. “Oh, it fucking wants me, all right. There’s no faking the way your sweet nipples harden every time I touch you.”

  Proving his point, he dragged his callused thumbs over her shirt-covered, distended buds. Her traitorous body arched into his touch and that sensation of a band twisting in her core tightened.

  Irish licked the shell of her ear and nipped the edge. The gravel in his voice tumbled through her body until she settled her weight on his muscular thigh. “And you can’t fake how hot and wet you get for me—only me, kitten.” He reached between them and deftly slipped past the silk, doing little more than stamping a damp triangle on his thigh. “Right…” The twisting got tighter and tighter. “…here,” he finished as he dragged a thick finger through her soaked slit and glanced over the sensitive nub at the top. She cried out his name and lost the thread as he kept up the assault.

  With every passing moment, Kat lost herself that much more. Her body felt flushed, covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and her panties were soaked through. Her skin was so sensitive, like her nerves were exposed, and every little sensation was hard-wired to her sex in a strange pleasure/pain. She writhed in frustration. Was she doing something wrong? Maybe part of her really didn’t work right. This needing something was making her fucking crazy!

  “Make it stop, Irish,” she begged. “Oh, God, I can’t take it, please make it stop.”

  He froze. “Make what stop, Kat? Does something hurt?”

  “Yes, no, shit, I don’t know. I want you to stop and keep going all at the same time. Like everything that feels good also kind of hurts, you know?” Of course he didn’t know. She wasn’t making any damn sense. Squeezing her eyes shut, she covered her face with her hands and prayed for a rip in the fabric of time that would take her away from this humiliating situation. “Oh, God, I knew something was wrong with me.”

  “Hey, I already told you nothing’s wrong with you,” he said, pulling her hands down, but she remained in the darkness behind her lids. “I wanna ask you something. Come on, look at me.”

  The tone of his voice wasn’t mocking or angry. He sounded genuinely concerned. Taking a deep breath, she obeyed the gentle command and stared up into his tender eyes.

  “Kat, have you ever had an orgasm?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I don’t know.” She looked up at him, her brows drawn together in what he suspected was a mix of sexual frustration and concern she was damaged goods. “What’s it feel like?”

  Holy hell. He knew she’d never found pleasure with a man before, but he never would have guessed she wouldn’t have brought herself to climax over the years. No wonder she was confused. She already expected her body’s reactions to be messed up, so it made sense that riding the edge of an orgasm would freak her out.

  “That would be a ‘no,’ then,” he answered. “But if I had to guess from the way you described it, you were close just now. They’re kinda crazy feeling at first. It builds and builds deep in your gut, right?”

  She nodded, and some of her worry seemed to disappear at hearing that he understood. “Yes.”

  “Well, if we don’t stop,” he said, adding a wicked grin, “and I do my job right, all of that builds up to something you’ll want to feel over and over again.”

  “Oh.” She still appeared unsure. “Do I have to do anything?”

  “Yeah,” he rasped. “Hold on tight.”

  Now that her nerves were back, he’d have to start from the beginning and earn her trust all over again. Kissing eased her into things, probably built up all those butterfly feelings girls were always talking about. Aiden didn’t mind in the least. Kissing Kat wasn’t any kind of hardship.

  So he did.

  He’d never wanted any woman with such a ferocity as he did her. It was all he could do to think straight. The very idea of bringing Kat to her first orgasm, of watching her break apart in his arms, made his dick throb and the tip leak with pre-cum. And he wasn’t just going to give her her first. He laid claim to her first several. If he only got her for a night, he’d make sure it was so intense that she’d measure every sexual encounter by it. He would set the bar for her future lovers.

  Aiden wrapped one arm around her waist, and his other hand snaked between their bodies again to dive beneath the small scrap of underwear. He forced himself to pull away from her kiss so he could watch her unravel as he parted her slick folds with his middle finger.

  She gasped and her fingers convulsed on his shoulders.

  “That’s it,” he encouraged, sliding front to back to front again, spreading her juices along the sensitive lips of her pussy. “I’m gonna get you there fast to take the edge off. I promise to take my time later.”

  He found her swollen clit and circled it with the rough tip of his finger. Her eyes flew wide and her knees buckled for a split second before she regained control.

  “Take your time?” she squeaked, now clenching fistfuls of his T-shirt. “How much time?”

  “Oh, sweetheart…” Pushing his finger back, he dipped in and rimmed her tight opening. Kat whimpered against his neck. He felt her juices on the back of his hand. The cloying scent of her arousal had his balls drawing up tight with anticipation. He tucked his head down and let his words tickle her ear. “If I had a mind to, I could keep you on the brink for as long as I wanted.”

  She shook her head. “That would be torture. Why would you do that?”

  Aiden eased his middle finger into her channel little by little, while the pad of his thumb worked her clit. “Because it’s the best kind of torture. Because when I finally let you, you’ll come so hard you won’t know where you end and I begin,” he promised.

  She threw her head back, lost in the moment. The ends of her golden-red waves caressed his forearm. Her breathing became shallow and a moan accompanied every few exhales. He worked his fi
nger in and out. Jesus, she was so hot and tight. Her walls were already swelling with her building climax. She was close.

  And getting closer.

  “Oh, God, Irish. It’s so— So—”

  “I know, baby, you’re almost there.”

  His cock jerked behind his zipper, begging for its own release, but he beat his desires back into submission. He refused to take any pleasure for himself unless he was certain she was ready to give it. Until then, he’d indulge himself by giving her the sort of experiences a woman deserved. Experiences she should have had long before now, and yet he couldn’t help being glad she’d have them all with him first.

  “Let go for me. Let it happen.”

  Aiden plunged a second finger deep inside her as his thumb pressed against her clitoris. With a keening cry, she flew apart in his arms. Her swollen walls pulsated and milked his fingers for endless seconds. Eventually the rapture relaxed her features as she slowly came back to herself, appearing dazed and content.

  As he pulled out from her body, he studied her carefully. Her pupils were blown, but her eyes were clear and focused. “You still with me, kitten?”

  She gave him a weak nod and sheepish smile. “Still with you.”

  “Good,” he said, kissing her briefly. “Wait here.”

  He grabbed the mattress from the futon and set it on the floor, placing her pillow at one end. Then he turned off the lights. He wasn’t giving a show to anyone who might be watching. On the floor, they were out of view from the windows, and he’d still be able to see her with the glow from the tattoo shop’s sign.

  Holding her hands, he helped lower her then followed her down until he was stretched out next to her, bracing himself up on one forearm. Again he started with more kissing, but now he pushed her through the steps much faster. It wasn’t long before he felt her relax, giving him the assurance he could move forward. He trailed his lips down the line of her jaw and kissed down her throat and back up again. When he got to her ear, he let her know his plans.

  “I’m gonna undress you, sweetheart. I wanna kiss and touch you all over this beautiful body. Can I do that?” She let out a soft moan and arched her back slightly. “I need to hear you say it, Kat.”