Fighting For Irish (A Fighting for Love Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (13 page)

BOOK: Fighting For Irish (A Fighting for Love Novel) (Entangled Brazen)
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“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, kitten, 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 finger 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.”

She turned her face toward him and exhaled a “yes” just before locking their mouths together. That she took even that small of an initiative made him burn hotter. He made quick work of removing her clothes while managing to not rip them off like a crazed Neanderthal. He pulled his T-shirt off so he’d be able to feel her, skin to skin, but kept his jeans on in case that would seem too far, too fast for her.

Aiden only had a few moments to look his fill so she wouldn’t have time to let her fears creep back in. Slender, with pert breasts and hair flowing around her face and shoulders, she resembled a graceful pixie.

He returned to her neck and whispered words of encouragement between kisses. He told her how beautiful she was, how special, how brave. And while he did and said all that, his hand caressed her stomach and inched its way toward her breasts. Finally, he stroked the underside of one as his head dipped down to take the other hard peak in his mouth.

The previous night, he’d devoured them. Now he teased them. Kat arched her back, a clear sign that she was in the moment, her body encouraging him. He licked circles around her areola and lightly tweaked her other nipple. Logically, he knew a person couldn’t taste like candy, but hell if he knew how else to explain it. Her skin was smooth as silk and sweet and pliant as saltwater taffy. And damn if he didn’t want to eat her up.

“Stop,” she cried, her palms pushing against his shoulders.

His stomach dropped as his world halted on its axis. Instantly, he lifted up to find her eyes shut and her teeth clamped on her lower lip. “Hey, come here.” He gathered her in his arms and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Talk to me. What is it?”

“It started happening. When things get to a certain point, I shut down. It’s like something in me can’t tell the difference between then and now.”

Aiden ran a hand down her hair, trying to soothe her as best he could. He wracked his brain trying to find a solution or even a clue of something that would help her get past this.

“The big difference between then and now is me, right?”

“Yes,” she mumbled into his shoulder, “but my stupid body isn’t getting the memo.”

“Hey, your body happens to be one of my favorite things right now, so I’ll thank you not to insult it.” She gave him a weak chuckle and an equally weak slap on the chest.
Better than tears.
“I don’t think your body’s the problem. I think it responds pretty well, if you know what I mean. So, I don’t know, maybe it’s your brain.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I
know
it’s you.”

“Yeah, but you’re not seeing me.”

She pulled back to look up at him. “I see you just fine.”

“Not when we’re doing things. Your eyes are always closed. But what if…” He held her gaze and swiped the rough pad of his thumb across her pebbled nipple. She inhaled sharply, and her pupils blew wide again. “What if you kept your eyes open?”

Kat swallowed thickly and licked her lips. “I don’t know.”

“Then let’s give it a shot. Worst that can happen is you stop me again. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He gently pushed her down on her back with her head resting on the pillow and positioned himself between her legs. Keeping eye contact, he moved down so his head was level with her breasts.

“Eyes stay open and on me,” he ordered.

With the flat of his tongue, he lapped at her nipple, reveling in the way her breath hitched and her pelvis rocked against his hard stomach. He circled it a few times, then sucked it into his mouth, watching her face as the pleasure replaced the frustration. Experimenting, he nipped the side of her breast. She moaned.

He wasn’t a shrink, but until he saw otherwise, his theory seemed to hold water. And, holy shit, if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever.

Sliding lower, he kissed his way down her soft belly until he reached her bare mound. He stood corrected.
That
was the hottest thing ever. Tearing his eyes away, he glanced up and made sure she was still following the plan. “You still with me, kitten?”


You still with me, kitten?

His voice rasped over her senses, the low and throaty sound causing shivers to race up her spine. That simple phrase made her knees weak every time he said it.

Kat answered with a nod, but then remembered the speaking rule and offered a timid “yes.” She’d never been more “with” anyone in her life. Irish made her more aware of her body than she ever thought possible. Until him, it had just been a vessel. A shell to walk around in and use as a tool for basic survival.

But the first time he touched her, she’d felt a zing of electricity that breathed life into her cells after years of dormancy.

“Good girl.” Positioning his hands under her thighs, he angled her pelvis up toward his mouth. He used his thumbs on the outside of her lips and spread her open to his view. The catch with her keeping her eyes on him was that he wasn’t required to do the same. He could look his fill wherever he wanted, and apparently right then what he wanted to see was right in front of him.

Kat had spent a lifetime feeling vulnerable, but this was a different kind of vulnerable. It didn’t frighten her or make her wish for superpowers to escape it. The vulnerability Irish made her feel was one of excitement and wonder. Everything with him was new and thrilling with an edge of apprehension for the unknown.

But now, as she lay naked in the most vulnerable position imaginable, the edge of apprehension was more of a cliff and she was dangling by her fingertips. Would it feel good? Would he like doing it to her? What if she reacted wrong or didn’t like it? Would he be disappointed? The uncertainty of it all was almost too much to bear.

Looking down her body, she watched as he placed kisses on the inside of her left thigh and trailed them down until he was inches from her center, then he repeated it on the right. From this vantage point, all she saw was his mussed black hair and tanned muscular shoulders covered with the beautiful art of his tattoos. To see so much power between her legs was intimidating.

He paused, hovering over her slick flesh as though committing every detail to memory…

Or maybe unwilling to go any further…
A fluttering of nerves and insecurity kicked up in her belly. “Irish?”

“You’re so beautiful.” Peering up at her, he gave her a firm reminder. “Eyes stay on me.”

He lowered his head and held her gaze as he licked one fold and then the other. She forgot to breathe. Feeling the wet heat from his tongue while watching the act was a carnal combination that shot fire through her center.

She expected his next move to go right up the middle, but he stayed at the top, where his tongue probed and flicked the sensitive bud nestled there. Her hips jerked, and she felt a rush of warmth in her center. Using the flats of his hands, Irish opened her completely. Hunger flashed in the deep blue of his eyes, then he dipped his head and lapped up every drop her body spilled before tonguing her opening like a man starved.

Her body writhed on the mattress as though possessed, but his mouth never broke contact. Sensations, indescribable to her inexperienced body, filtered through her in waves that grew more intense with each passing second. She had to fight to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head when he pushed two fingers inside her and sucked on her clit in pulses he timed with every thrust.

Vibrations hummed in her extremities—her fingers and toes and at the roots of her hair—then rushed in toward her center, gathering strength. Was a second time even possible? This was insane. It was—was—

“Oh-God-oh-God-
Ohhhhh
!”

Every muscle in her body seized while the blood rushed through her at warp speeds. The inner walls of her channel convulsed involuntarily, ticking off the seconds it took for the euphoria to ebb little by little.

Irish kissed his way up her body until his hips were cradled between her legs and his forearms held most of his weight on either side of her head. Despite feeling short of breath, Kat fused her mouth to his.

Breathing was now a luxury.

Kissing him had become necessity.

Slow and sultry, they explored each other as though for the first time. Her hands framing his face, their heads moving from side to side to center. Lifting her heavy lids, she found herself gazing into the fathomless blue of his eyes. The connection between them hummed in her veins and sank deep in her bones.

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