Aye,please.
He slid a hand to my back as he cupped a breast, and used it to unsnap my bra. Now, those were some fine undressing skills.
He slowly removed the fabric, as if he were watching a striptease. He threw the black lace on the floor and stared at my breasts.
What did he see, I wondered. I had nice breasts. I mean, nothing to write home about. A decent 34C. I had a regular body. A slight pouch—but then I’d never had a flat stomach. My bum, I’d been told, was pretty sexy. But there was sexy for Ballybeg, and then there was sexy for professional athletes.
“Beautiful.” He touched the tips of my breasts reverently. “You’re beautiful.”
His hands slid down to my waist, right above my jeans, and then went back up, cupping both breasts, his thumbs playing with my nipples.
I began to pant. He was goingslow. I was used to fast, hurried, let’s get this done kind of a tumble. This was not like that.
This was seduction.
“I’m going to taste now,” he murmured.
I wasn’t sure if he was still asking for consent, just telling me what he was planning to do, or talking to himself.
“Okay,” I managed to say brokenly.
He took a nipple in his mouth and began to suckle. As he did, he raised his eyes to meet mine. He watchedme as I watched him shape my flesh and as his fingers manipulated my nipple.
“Jax.” My fingers tangled with his hair. Silky, beautiful hair that I’d often thought about touching, running my hands through.
He kissed a nipple and then blew on it. “Yeah, baby.”
I pushed my hips up, wanting the friction, wanting to feel him hard between my legs.
“You want more?” he asked.
His eyes were hooded. His jaw was tight. His cheeks rouged. He was aroused.
“Aye.”
He slid down and unbuttoned my jeans. He slid the denim down my legs, then stared at my black knickers, which matched my bra. They both had a black bow and were lacy. I liked to have sexy lingerie against my skin. It was my one splurge.
“Good thing I didn’t know what you packed underneath your clothes, darlin’, ‘cause I’d have ripped them off a long time ago.”
He dipped his nose between my legs and inhaled. “What do you call pussy in Irish?” He cupped me, and I felt the surge of liquid drench my knickers.
“Faighean,” I told him.
“Fine?”
I smiled. “No, it’s….” I spelled it out for him and then grinned. “It’s also the Irish word for condom.”
Jax pulled his nose out of my center and looked at me. “You Irish are weird.”
“Coming from an American where they haven’t spoken English for years, that’s something.”
Were we having an argument during sex about language?
His face lit up like a beacon. “You’re aMy Fair Ladyfan.”
I narrowed my eyes, feeling enormously weird that we were both in just our underwear, mostly aroused, discussing a musical. “I’m surprised you are.”
“My gran…nope. Not going there.” He looked down at my pussy. “Going back down there.”
