He’s right, I didn’t have a sip of alcohol tonight, but then, why do I feel drunk—lightheaded and achy?
“Maybe I am sick,” I whisper, lifting my eyes back to his. My knees go weak by what I read in those haunted eyes—except they aren’t so haunted now. There’s heat in those eyes. Hunger..
I should look away.
I should step back, put distance between us. Pretend I don’t notice the way his pupils dilate or how his breathing changes. Those long fingers still touching my skin definitely shouldn’t send my pulse racing or my breath coming in short pants. And all those raw emotions on his face—the hunger and desire barely restrained—I should ignore them all.
I want him.
Desperately.
“Elena,” he rasps, seconds before his mouth comes crashing down on mine with a deep groan. I gasp against his mouth, grabbing onto his jacket when my knees buckle. The hand on my jaw slides to my back and cradles my nape as his mouth moves over mine gently…seeking. He holds me in place as he angles his head to the side, his mouth slanting against mine over and over again until I’m flushed all over, trembling in his arms for more.
“Roarke,” I whimper, sliding my hands under the coat and touching that firm body over the shirt. So warm and solid. So strong. “Please.”
I don’t know what the hell I’m asking—begging for. Maybe for this moment to never end. For his lips to stay locked on mine.
It’s wrong.
He’s…wrong for me.
But I want him. Kissing me. Touching the places where I ache the most, relieving the pressure.
Please.
His fingers slide into my hair seconds before he slips his tongue into my mouth, and I groan when it grazes mine. And then he’s kissing me, his breathing labored as his tongue strokes mine. I whimper with need, running my hands over his stomach and chest as he deepens the kiss.
His free hand slides down my body, and I moan into the kiss when his palm kneads my ass, pulling me flush against him until I can feel the hard press of his manhood. Something snaps in him as he breaks the kiss, and his mouth traces down my throat. “A chroí,”he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with that Irish lilt that makes my knees weak. “You smell so fucking good. I bet you taste just as delicious.”
I gasp when he nudges me down on the bed. I’ve barely found my bearings when the large man drops to his knees beside the bed.
“Roarke?” I whisper, surprised. He doesn’t seem himself. “W-what are you doing?”
“You’ll like it,”His eyes lock on mine, dark and intense. “Do you trust me, Elena?”
The question hangs in the air between us. My heart pounds, but I nod.
“Good girl,” he rasps, and the praise sends heat flooding through me Kneeling beside the bed, eyes dark with lust, he looks nothing like the man who’s protected me for the past two weeks. He would scare me if my lips weren’t tingling from the kiss. If my body wasn’t trembling for him.
I gasp when he grabs my ankle and pulls me to the edge of the bed, sliding those rough, calloused fingers under my dress and up my bare thighs, leaving a storm of heat behind every caress. Those heated eyes stay locked on mine when he grabs my panties and slowly tugs them down my thighs and down my legs, then completely off.
“You’ve been tempting me all day,” he growls, leaning forward and pressing his mouth on the side of my left knee, sending a shiver rolling through my body, my core flooding with arousal. “Do you have any idea how you looked standing on that beach, in this sexy little dress?” His breathing is heavy and hot against my inner thigh. “Tempting me to take what I’ve been wanting, to taste your sweet little pussy.”
“I…Roarke…oh God!” I cry out and fall back when I feel his tongue trace my seam, his groan echoing in the room as he teases my folds into opening. “Wait, you…we can’t—”
“Yes, we can. I just want to give you pleasure,a chroi..”
My back arches off the bed with a sob when his tongue grazes my clit. “Oh God!” Tiny volts of electricity shoot through my body, shocking my system.
“You taste better than I ever imagined,” he growls against my flesh and I whimper as he brushes his nose against my slick sex, groaning as he inhales. “So sweet. I can’t wait another minute!”
He runs the flat of his tongue along my sensitive flesh, causing a storm of heat to roll through my belly and spread to the rest of me. I cry out, toes curling and fingers twisting in the covers as he starts to lick my pussy, with hot, hungry strokes.
I’ve read about this. I’ve studied human sexuality from an academic perspective, read papers on physical intimacy and arousal, but no book, no research paper, or article described the storm of heat that rolls through my body. The need, primal and desperate, as my bodyguard laps at my wetness in the most obscene way. His beard scratches my inner thighs, his breathing labored and a hungry tongue seeking…
“Oh God!” I sob, thighs trembling against the man’s shoulders as he drags that sinful tongue between my folds, wickedly suckling my clit and stealing air right from my lungs.
I can’t breathe. Or think. Or speak, as the words sputtering out of my mouth are a series of sobs and pleas.
