The Irishman

by Leigh, Elisa

  My pussy that has never once been touched by even me for pleasure is dripping wet. My clit is throbbing, almost painfully, in pleasure. When I buck my pussy up again, Gareth pushes the monster that is his dick against me, and I start to come. Moving faster I rub myself against him as a pleasure I have never known before floods my system and rushes through me. “Gareth, don’t stop. Oh god, don’t stop.” Pushing his dick against my core, he meets me thrust for thrust, going back and forth between nipples until I’m spent and laying back against the bed, my heart about to beat out of my chest.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “Did you just fucking come from me playing with your nipples?” His eyes bore into mine.

  I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and shrug one of my shoulders. “I think so. I’m not sure.”

  “How can you not be-” His eyes go from questioning to shocked. “Was that your first orgasm?”

  My hands fly to my face, to cover my embarrassment.

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. I’m in awe of you. Tell me this is by choice and not because you’ve been with arseholes who don’t know how to please you.”

  “I’m a virgin. You’re the first man who has ever touched me, kissed me.”

  “I get to be your first everything? Do you know what that knowledge does to a man like me?”

  Hell no, but judging by the look in his eyes it looks like a good thing. I shake my head no.

  Gareth grins and kisses down the valley between my breasts. Scooting down, he kisses down my soft belly, running his tongue around my belly button. When he gets to my jeans, he runs his nose up the apex of my legs and inhales. I try closing my legs, but he pushes them apart and holds my legs open. I’m mortified.

  “Your pussy smells so fucking good Caitlin. Can I get a taste?”

  All I can do is nod and watch in wonder as he undoes my button and pulls my jeans down, over my ass. Once my jeans are off, all I can think about is if I shaved today and pray my legs are as smooth as I’d want them to be if I had adequately prepared for this moment. Oh god, at least I showered this afternoon before my shift, so at least I’m clean, down there.

  In the meantime, while I’ve been mentally freaking myself out, Gareth has taken off his shirt and is staring at me. “When we’re together, the only thing I want you focusing on is me and the pleasure I’m giving you, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Gareth.”

  “Good. Now lift your arse.”

  I do as he says and he pulls my thong down my legs and lifts it to his nose, inhaling my scent. “Fuck me now, your scent is going to drive me mad.” He stuffs my thong into his back pocket, and then his eyes drift from my face, over my breasts, down my tummy, and finally lock on my wet pussy.

  “Have you ever touched yourself before?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Why the fuck not? This pussy is perfection. She needs to be pleasured often.”

  “I didn’t know how to do it? I never really cared to before.”

  “Do you want to touch it now? See what she likes?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to be the first man to bring me pleasure by touching me here.” I snake my hand down over my breast and toward my pussy, but he grabs my hand before my fingers make it to my clit.

  Chapter 5

  Gareth

  “I’ll be the only fucking person to touch you anywhere. No one gets to feel how soft your skin is or how wet your pussy gets.” I’m on edge, and I’m about to combust. Hearing that I’m the only man to ever touch her is not helping matters. Her scent is calling to me, begging me to taste her sweet pussy.

  “Put your hands up by your head. If you touch me, I won’t be able to hold back.”

  Slowly, oh so very slowly, she caresses her hands up her torso, over her tits, letting them bounce and tease me. I squeeze her thighs to keep from reaching out and loving on her tits some more. I scoot down the bed until I’m on my knees on the floor before her, then hook my hands around her thighs and pull her body until her arse is about to fall off the edge. Pressing her thighs to either side, I get a perfect view of the pussy that is going to rule my world for the next seventy or so years. Fuck it’s a pretty shade of pink.

  I watch as a drop of her pussy cream rolls down her fat lips, straight down to her tight little arsehole. My dick is so fucking hard at this point that I need some relief. I unbuckle my belt and my jeans and pull out my dick before it turns purple and threatens to push a hole through my pants. I don’t know if I’ve been this hard in my life.

  Watching as another drop of cream coats her pussy, I grab my shaft and stroke it a few times to ease the discomfort I feel in my balls. I rub my thumb from her arsehole up to her clit, stopping to rub circles over and around her little nub. Caitlin’s erratic movements tell me her body is loving everything I’m doing. Letting go of my dick, I push one finger into her pussy, making her gasp while rubbing her clit. Her soft walls hug my finger tightly as I drive it in and out of her. The more I finger fuck her pussy, the wetter she becomes, and eventually, I’m able to get a second finger inside her.

  “Gareth,” she moans. “Just like that. Mmm don’t stop, it feels so good.”

  As soon as her pussy starts to convulse I pull my fingers out of her and lick a path through her wet, cream covered pussy lips, up to her puffy clit. I suck her clit into my mouth, running circles around it with my tongue. Like a live wire, she moves all over the place trying to find the release she craves. Shoving my fingers back inside her, I fuck her hard while sucking on her clit. She’s on edge, about to fall over the cliff, and I’m ready to take her there. “Come on my tongue, Caitlin. Let me taste how sweet you are when you come.” I nip at her clit, my teeth running over her bundle of nerves, and she falls, so fucking beautifully. Her eyes slam closed, and she bucks wildly beneath me. Quickly, I stand before her and grab my shaft, pumping it while she rides out her orgasm, her body spasming in front of me. It doesn’t take long for me to find the sweetest release I’ve ever had, coming all over her pussy and splayed thighs.

  I walk to the bathroom and wet a washcloth in warm water. When I come back to clean her up, her eyes are closed, and she’s wearing a beautiful smile on her face. I wipe her pussy clean, consider leaving my cum on her to dry, but in the end, decide I’m not that much of an arsehole and wipe it off. When I get back to bed and snuggle her close, I pull her sleeping body into my embrace. How the hell did I get this lucky?

  Chapter 6

  Caitlin

  Most of the time my dreams are haunted by memories of my family. Lately, they’ve been good memories, but when I was younger the memories were twisted, and my family would turn any happiness I found into a reason for me to feel guilty. When I finally broke down and told my therapist about these dreams, she talked me through them. She insisted I keep a journal to write down my dreams when I woke up, that way they wouldn’t weigh me down as much throughout my day. At first, it was a load of bullshit, but as I kept up with the assignment, for a month, because that’s how long she wanted me to try it, journaling became a habit. I still felt like it wasn’t working, but I didn’t want to stop. The pain of writing it down became soothing in a way I never felt before. After a few months, once I wrote the dream into my journal, I didn’t think about it much after that. I have years of journals sitting in a box. Journals I’ve never read or ever intend to. When my dreams started to morph into only happy memories, I would reread those entries, finding peace in reliving a time when I knew my place in the world when my family was alive, and I had them.

  I didn’t dream last night. It was like white noise.

  As my mind stumbles into consciousness, I become aware of my surroundings. The bed jumps and dips. Wait, this isn’t my bed, is it even a bed at all? Why do I hear air blowing?

  My eyes flutter open, and I see the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life, sitting in front of me in a navy three-piece suit, reading a newspaper. Where the hell am I? I finally realize
I’m on a freaking airplane and I sit up quickly, too quickly making my head rush and my eyes wince close. “Son of a biscuit!” I groan, holding my head between my hands.

  I hear the newspaper being tossed and a ding then the incredibly sexy man is kneeling in front of me, holding my head in one hand and rubbing my back with the other.

  “Yes, Mr. Whelan?” Someone asks in a rich Irish accent.

  “She needs some water.” His tone borders on the edge of irritation.

  “Of course, sir. Be right back.”

  “Caitlin, look at me, sweetheart.” His thick Irish accent calms me instantly, the familiarity of it bringing me comfort.

  I look up into his pale green eyes and everything from the night before floods through my mind. My cheeks burn, remembering all the things I let this man do to me. “Gareth?”

  “Ay lass. I see it’s all coming back to ya’.”

  I blush. “Yes, but why are we on a plane?”

  The flight attendant, a woman who likes like she could be in her late forties, hands Gareth the glass of water. “Is there anything else I can get you, either of you?” She asks, smiling warmly in my direction. I shake my head no. When she leaves, I reach out my hand for the glass of water, but Gareth ignores me and lifts the glass to my lips, waiting for me to take a sip. Why is it that everything this man does makes me blush?

  “It’s a jet.” he finally answers my previous question.

  Once I have finished the glass, he sits back in his seat and puts the glass down in the seat beside him. He grabs the paper he was reading and folds it perfectly, then places next to the glass. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a man that exudes such class before while coming off like a complete asshole. The sexiest asshole.

  “You own a jet?”

  He shakes his head no. “I chartered one for today’s flight.”

  His clipped answers are pissing me off, along with the smug look he’s wearing on his face. “Any reason you didn’t wake me up and, oh I don’t know, ask me if I wanted to get on a jet with you, before going god knows where?” I ask, my voice rising with every word.

  “We’re going home.”

  I raise my eyebrow at him to continue, because if he thinks ‘home’ is enough of an answer he has no idea who he’s met.

  “To Ireland. And I tried waking you, but you wouldn’t wake up. You were in a deep sleep. Listen, lass, I thought through the many alternatives, and this was the best choice I could come up with.”

  “You thought kidnapping me was your best choice? I don’t know the kinds of things they let go on in Ireland, but in America, we can’t take people places without their consent. That’s considered a crime.”

  His cheek wrinkles in irritation, and his jaw tightens.

  “Don’t I need a passport to get into the country?”

  “You know you do. Good thing you had one in your possession.”

  “I can’t believe you went through my purse!”

  He stands and extends his hand to me. I fold my arms across my chest and look out the window at the clear blue sky. Normally I’m not such a raging bitch, but I was just kidnapped, I think I get a little leeway.

  “Get up.”

  I look over at him, and I begin to worry I’ve pushed him too far. “Excuse me?”

  “Get your arse up before I carry you.”

  I stand immediately and follow him to the back of the jet without another word. He walks into a back room with a good sized bed and not much more. I think to question him about why he had me in a seat when there was a bed back here, but choose not to. I’ve already upset the crazy man.

  “I was going to set you back here to rest, but the captain wouldn’ have it. Said per regulation you had to be buckled when he took off.”

  Ahh, that answers that then.

  He sits at the edge of the bed, then looks up at me and pats the spot beside him. “Sit down a chroí.”

  “Um no offense Gareth, but I’m not getting on that bed with you. Last night was-”

  “Don’t.” He growls, his jaw clenched tight.

  “I was just going to say-”

  “Don’t you fuckin’ say that what happened between us was a mistake, Caitlin.”

  I purse my lips together while holding my arms crossed over my chest and look around the room, being careful not to make eye contact with him. It’s bad enough the air around us sizzles with desire ready to ignite.

  “Jesus lass, take a seat. I’m not going to maul you or nothin’.”

  I gulp audibly and sit as far from him on the bed as I can.

  Turning to me with one knee on the bed, he takes my hand that’s sitting in my lap. “I’m not going to apologize for taking you with me Caitlin, I won’t. You might not see it yet, and that’s fine, but you and I are going to be something special. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you while I wasn’t here to protect you.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’ve been doing just fine protecting myself.”

  “Have you though?”

  I give him a puzzled look, and he scoots closer. He taps my heart. “Have you been protectin’ this?” I bite my lip and look away. How is it that he’s nailed it on the head? “I’ve got an extra room in my apartment that you can use until we get things sorted. I don’t expect anything from you physically unless that’s something that you want. I want to show you around where I live. I want you to meet my brothers Sullivan and Cormac. I want us to get to know one another until you’re as sure about us as I am.”

  “What if I decide I don’t want what you’re offering? Hell, I don’t even know what you’re offering.”

  “Let’s take it one day at a time a chroí. If at any point you decide you don’t want me, I’ll buy you a ticket back to Chicago.”

  I know I should be more freaked out than I am. I should demand he turn this jet around and take me back home. But I don’t. There’s an excitement in my heart that I haven’t felt since I was a little girl getting surprised by my parents with Disney World. I won’t lie to myself and pretend I’m not attracted to Gareth. Everything about him draws me in.

  “Have a sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there. We’ve still got four hours yet.”

  “I couldn’t sleep right now. I do need to use the bathroom though.”

  “Right then.” He stands and gestures out of the small bedroom area, and I walk to the one that we passed on the way back here. Gareth stops me and places a kiss on the top of my head, then opens the door and waits for me to enter and close it. When I’m finished doing my thing, I look around and see a small toiletry bag. Opening the bag, I find brand new toiletries, and I couldn’t be more relieved. Doing the best I can with what I have I freshen up. There’s even a brush, so I brush out my long hair that is full of tangles. I blush, remembering exactly how I got them.

  Once I feel less like death warmed over and more like a spring daisy, I check back in the bedroom to see if he’s still in there and find the bed turned down for me. He’s a persistent one, I’ll give him that. I’m about to go back out there and sit with him when I spot my purse on the bed, but that’s not what stops me. Beside my purse is an outfit of dark wash skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, pink suede flats, a light floral scarf, and a black pea coat. There’s also a small white bag with a lingerie store logo on it. When I peek inside, I find white cotton panties and a t-shirt bra.

  With the tags still on I realize these clothes didn’t come from a place like Target, where I usually shop for my clothes. These clothes are fancy, with name brands I’ve never heard of. I run my fingers over the expensive yet simple clothes checking to see that they are in the right size. Should I be embarrassed he knows that I wear a size fourteen in jeans and an extra-large top? It didn’t seem to matter to him last night. Assuming the clothes are for me, I close the door to the small room and change.

  The clothes fit perfectly and are so soft. The only thing that would be better was if I were able to have a long hot shower before changing into these great clothes. I can’t help but wonder how he w
as able to pull all of this off so quickly. Does he do this all the time? How does he know what a woman would need?

  Who is this Gareth Whelan?

  Chapter 7

  Gareth

  Caitlin walks back out and sits in front of me, setting her purse in the seat beside her. She’s wearing the clothes my assistant had located for her, but she doesn’t look happy. I have no idea how he got them here, he worked his magic, and the flight attendant handed them to me once I had gotten my girl settled.

  “Are you not comfortable?”

  She smiles briefly at me. “They are perfect. Thank you.” She pulls her phone out of her purse and powers it on.

  “There’s Wi-Fi on the jet if you need it.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll just read one of the books I have downloaded in my Kindle app.”

  For the next few hours, she ignores me quite effectively, especially since I’ve been staring at her nonstop since she sat down. After a while, she pulls some earbuds out of her purse and puts them in, reclines in her seat, then closes her eyes. Her eyes don’t pop open again until the pilot announces our arrival.

  I’m agitated that I couldn’t talk to her, that she ignored me, that she was quiet. At least before she was arguing with me. Her apathetic attitude is pissing me the fuck off.

  Once we are off the jet, we go through customs. I pull both of our passports from my coat pocket and hand them to the customs agent. He eyes us over and scans them into the machine, then gives them back to me. Looking at Caitlin, he asks her, “business or pleasure?”

  Her brow wrinkles, “huh?”

  “It’s your first trip to Ireland. Why are you here, lass?”

  Her brow smoothes when she understands. “I’m not sure yet. I guess we’ll see.” Then she smiles, the same smile I saw last night when she was talking to her patrons at the pub. I’m jealous of the fucking customs guy. How the hell did he earn one of her smiles and she’s still giving me the cold fucking shoulder?