My eyes slammed shut and I eased inside her, sliding as deep as I could go, more at home with her limits than Locke was yet.
Yet. A tiny word with crazy power. With a future, if fate let us have it.
Also, I wasn’t packing a manaconda. I had to work with what I had, true love and an unhealthy dose of avoidance.
Warming her up, I fucked her slowly, letting the fire that raged between us become a living, breathing thing that burned its own path. Sometimes I worried that we’d communicated better in those long years I’d been too scared to truly touch her. When words were all we’d had. Then I got her naked and forgot things like that mattered.
Sun filtered through the cracked blinds, bouncing off the fresh sweat shimmering on her pale Irish skin. Her legs wrapped around me again and I fucked her faster, harder, her hands raking through my hair and scratching down my back.
Already close to losing it, I flipped us again, pulling her on top of me, dragging my rough hands over her breasts as she circled her hips on me, another filthy moan breaching those damn-fucking lips.
My head fell back and a deep groan of my own rumbled from my chest, my dick pulsing again, my fingers sliding between us, searching out her swollen clit. I wanted this to last forever, but my addiction to making her come had me by the balls.
I drove my cock up into her, ramping up the pace, enchanted by the rising swell of her body. The arch of her neck. The dark hair that caressed my knees until I yanked her forward and down, smashing her mouth to mine.
It was so impossibly fucking good. The first time I saw stars it was at the hand of a bare-knuckle boxer driving his fist into my skull. The last time would be with her.
With him.
Locke.
He wasn’t with us, but I felt him everywhere as Orla’s release squeezed the life out of me. As my dick swelled and shot inside her, and I lost a few more brain cells along the way.
We sagged against each other, breathing hard. For long minutes, it was blissful relief.
Then she raised her head and looked at me again, a million questions I couldn’t answer dancing in her unyielding gaze.
She opened her mouth.
I sealed it shut with my palm and put her on her back again. “No.”
Fury replaced concern. She squirmed in my hold, her knee rising to smash me in the dick.
I evaded, letting her go.
She kicked me anyway. “Use your fucking words.”
“I did.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me?No?”
“Orls, it’s all I have right now.”
“Liar.”
“To you? Never.”
It was a promise I’d made to her long ago. To give her silence instead of lies. In return, she’d vowed patience, but I’d never held her to that. We were who we were.
Orla rolled from the bed and snatched up her clothes, her movements jerky with barely controlled rage.
It was the same frustration and fear I’d brought home, but without the visual I’d protect her from until the day I fucking died.
I stayed put as she yanked her clothes on, knowing better than to touch her.
She stamped into her boots and gave me a tough O’Brian stare. “You’re in danger of becoming a massive arsehole, McGovern.”
“You’d still love me.”
