“Well then, Miss Marino, let me put your mind at rest. I can indeed fight. Even better than Roarke, who was in the military and spent the majority of his time in active war zones,” I tell her. “My brother is more of a weapons expert who’s never missed a shot a day in his life, and I am good with my hands.”
The statement prompts her eyes to drop to my lap, where my hands are folded. I note the flush on her cheeks deepen to cherry red. “Um, how did you get so good?”
I went pro in MMA—fought for five years before an injury ended my career. But I’ve trained in martial arts since I could walk.”
“MMA? Really?” She bounces on the bed and sits on her knees, watching me as if she’s found something fascinating. “Like UFC stuff? That’s actually really cool.”
“It was a good run while it lasted,” I tell her. The injury still stings when I think about it too long—some drunk driver running a red light and ending everything I’d worked for. But that’s not a story for tonight.
“Your family is so cool,” she beams, and it does something to me, seeing her without the worry that’s been plaguing her all day. “Can you teach me some moves?”
My blood fires up at her words. “Teach you?” I ask, taking in the clothes she’s wearing and how little of her they cover. “You don’t want me touching you, Arianna.”
“Why? Are you scared you’ll hurt me?”
“Quite the opposite,” I say, getting up despite myself and walking closer to the bed. Arianna gets on her knees on the bed to face me, such a perfect position for her to give me a blow job. It’s so fucking tempting to slide my hands into her hair and pull her toward my straining cock. I clear my throat and force thethoughts away as they come. “I’ll show you a move that doesn’t require much contact.”
“Okay,” she chirps, smiling at me as she climbs off the bed. I demonstrate a basic stance: feet shoulder-width apart and slightly bent, hands up, ready to block. I guide her into position, careful not to touch her, before moving to her side to demonstrate the moves.
“This is how you block if someone swings at you—and if they grab you, here’s how you break the hold,” I say, moving slowly so she can mirror me. I chuckle when she stumbles a bit, so I move behind her to correct her stance, guiding her arms and showing her how to protect her face from an attack. I groan when she stumbles back again, the move pressing her pert ass against my throbbing cock. “Fuck!”
“Sorry,” she whispers shyly, but the words barely register. My pulse is racing, and I find that I can’t resist the urge to lean down and smell her hair, breathing deep. She smells like strawberries, so fucking edible. Fuck, now I want her on her back on that bed, thighs spread and that supple ass in my palms as I eat her out, lapping at her juices until she forgets her own name.
Move away.
I need to create some fucking distance between Arianna and me, but I find my hand traveling up her hips before I can control myself. My breathing is broken as I lean into her, pressing my nose against her hair. “You don’t need to learn self-defense, Arianna,” I rasp into her hair, trailing my hands up her hips and stomach. She whimpers needily when I palm her tits, brushing the little points of her nipples with my thumbs. “What use is there to learn to protect yourself when I’m here?”
“What about when you’re not?” she whispers, arching into my touch.
“I’ll always stand between you and danger,a rún,” I assure her, nudging her hair aside before dropping a kiss on her bare neck. “You don’t need to worry about someone getting close to you when I’m around.” My hand coasts back down, and she whimpers when I slide it into her shorts and slip my index finger between her soft folds, slick with arousal. “Fuck, you’re wet!”
“Conor,” she moans with a sharp intake of breath, and I don’t need to see her face to tell that she’s blushing.
“Your pussy is practically dripping,” I rasp into her ear, knuckling her pussy gently and making her whimper. “How long have you been wet for me,a rún?”
“I…what does that mean?” she hisses, rubbing her ass against me when I tease her swelling bud.
“A rún?” I turn her around to face me, keeping my hand in her sleeping shorts and teasing her clit. “It’s Gaelic for a ton of things.” I lean down and brush my lips over hers, pushing back when she leans in. “It means my precious,” I rasp against her mouth, drawing circles around her clit and making her moan. “It also means my treasure…my secret.”
“And am I?”
“Oh, you’re all of those things, Arianna Marino.”
Her mouth opens up for me with a needy whine when I claim her lips, her hands gripping my shoulders as she rises on her tiptoes. I was curious what the stubborn Marino would look like aroused, but I’m not prepared for just how much I react to her need. How wild the need to touch her drives me. And now, I can’t stop.
I can’t stop touching her…kissing her.
The taste of her lips makes me crave more. The way she responds to me sends my cock hardening in pure agony, and I can’t wait any longer. I’ve been nursing blue balls since we started this trip, and fuck, I want to come—I want her to come with me. To share in this madness that only she seems to draw out of me.
“I want you,” I say hoarsely, rubbing her clit harder as I break the kiss and trail my mouth down her jaw. I drag my tongue down the curve of her throat, losing my damn mind in the scent and taste of her. I groan when I tongue her racing pulse. “Fuck baby, you have no idea just how much I need to be inside of you.” I’m mad for it.
“Christ,” she whimpers, tilting her head to the side and giving me more access to her. My cock is aching fiercely as I drag my open mouth down her body, pushing up her T-shirt to reveal her perfect tits. I suction my mouth hungrily over a nipple, making her back bow and her cries echo in the room. She’s so fucking beautiful, so perfect in the way the velvet of her skin feels against my tongue. Even more arousing are the sounds she makes as I suck and lick her nipples, shifting my focus between the two.
“Oh God, Conor!”
“I’m just getting started, baby,” I say, pulling back. I nudge her gently to sit on the foot of the bed before dropping to my knees.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, eyes going wide when I grab the waistband of her shorts and tug them down her hips. “Conor.”
