She’s anticipating more, demanding more, but I keep my pressure light.
This feels so good, this is everything, this is right where I want to be.
Sliding down further, I take her in my mouth, parting her legs wider.
That seems to have a different implication now, and when I slide my tongue along her seam and she arches, it’s magic. My tongue slips inside her, swirling around her clit. Slow, then fast, then slow again.
I just want to make sure this is unforgettable for this woman.
She’s panting, she’s fucking panting. My fingers run up and down the inside of her thighs, and I can feel her legs shaking as she’s getting closer. Every time she shivers, every time she arches into me, it’s like a spear of pride, a stab of pleasure, a jolt of pure electricity.
I slide a finger inside her, then two, as I drag my tongue over her clit. Back and forth, around, up and down. Finally, I increase the pressure and she comes against my mouth wrapping her legs around my head. I could die here a happy man.
Hard to think straight. I kiss my way up, back up along the trail to her mouth, enjoy feeling the wetness of her along my cock. She sucks softly at my lip, and her lips part. My tongue slides into her mouth, exploring, teasing, tasting the sweet honeysuckle of her.
Loving Siobhan is sweet agony.
Loving?
That word again.
Her hand is between us, grasping the head of my cock.
“Can I?” she asks when I pull away with a groan. She can do anything she wants. But I have an idea and rotate so I can lick at her pussy while she explores what she wants. Soon I’m lost in the wonder of that beautiful woman again.
But when her lips close around my cock again, and I feel light fingertips touch my balls, there’s a second of blinding fear that I’ll come right here, right now. Can’t have that. Change of plans is in order, then.
I’m back with my lips on hers, hands sliding down her body.
“Kieran?” Her voice is a question, like she’s afraid she’s touching me wrong.
“I want you too much,” I rasp. “I won’t last for a minute in that sweet mouth of yours.”
Her eyes flash with lust, with the knowledge of her own power, and it’s so fucking hot.
“I want you,” she says. Her fingers ghost lightly over my cock and it I’m so hard it’s painful.
“Please, Kieran. I want you inside me.”
Seven words. A few seconds. Life organizing itself.
I grab a condom from the back of my pants and roll it on.
I lay down on my back and have her straddle me. The perfect peaks of her breasts hard under the moonlight, hair tumbling over us. I hold her hips, and she begins a slow, aching slide down my cock. It seems like letting her set the pace would be right, and it’s perfect and agonizing and beautiful. Just like the woman herself.
She’s so fucking tight, and I worry I might be too big. Pushing deeper, she cries out a little and I jerk with fear.
“Feels good,” she breathes, and then continues down. I’m fully inside her, engulfed in her hot, wet perfect center. She gives a little roll of her hips and looks down at me. Sitting up in one move, I wrap my arms around her and bring her lips to mine. As my mouth captures hers, my tongue sliding into her mouth, I arch upwards into her and she moans against my lips.
Her fingers dig into my back and I feel her relax against me. Filling her, being with her, I wish I could lock this perfect moment away for time. Her lips taste like heaven and I shift deeper into her. She stretches around me, clenching and releasing.
New, different, amazing.
“You good, sweetheart?” It’s all I can manage.
When she says my name and begins a slow, aching grind against me, I can’t take it anymore. Her eyes are open, on mine, as I drive into her with slow, steady strokes. Deeper and deeper. Again and again. Time stops, the world’s revolutions cease, and the only things I hear are our bodies moving together, the sounds she makes as I plunge into her body, and the wind blowing softly around us.
Siobhan rocks her hips, and I realize that I’m close. Too close.
My fingers slide between us, and I rub her clit with my knuckle. Urgent. Fast, deep pressure, unrelenting. Her mouth widens, and the tension that’s been building in her core breaks. She clenches around me, her face buried in my neck, my hands tangled in her hair. The sound she makes, a wordless cry of pleasure, is the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard.
A few more thrusts into her tight channel and I’m with her, lost, groaning her name. My cock pulses inside her, pumping, wanting more even as an explosion of sensation takes my vision to black.
I’m not even sure what I said, but when I finally am grounded enough to feel like I’m in my body, she’s giving me the most curious look.
Without another word, she puts her lips on mine.
17
Siobhan
I’ve never had a summer romance. There was never time, and my parents didn’t allow it anyway. Well-bred women don’t have flings, and the uptight sons of my father’s business partners wouldn’t want a loose woman.
It’s what my mother always told me.
While I’m not a virgin, I haven’t had a lot of sex and nothing as satisfying as with Kieran.
I feel like a loose woman, but not in the derogatory way my mother means. It’s like the coil of tension that always seems to be wound around my spine is starting to give way, and I like how it feels.
I like being able to let go, even if it’s just for this one summer.
I wish it weren’t going by so quickly.
Kieran invites me for a cookout for the Fourth of July. Nothing fancy like I am used to, but a messy party on the beach with hot dogs and hamburgers.
Not food I generally eat.
Kieran sets up a volleyball net, and I expect Vinny to play, but he stays home.
“Not big on parties,” Kieran says. “He’s probably going to finish installing the new windows while we’re here.”
He doesn’t sound too guilty to be leaving Vinny to it. His uncle gave him a sheaf of papers with all kinds of details about the original architecture of the house, as well as a picture from an ancient tourist magazine. In color.
It’d take months to get it all done, but when the house is fixed up, it’s going to look amazing.
I wonder if I’ll be able to see it completed, even if we are back in Boston. Back to being Siobhan Carney and Kieran Doyle.
But I am determined to squeeze all I can out of this summer. I play volleyball with Kieran, terribly, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve never done that before. When I scrape my knees in the sand, Kieran worries I’m hurt and is confused at my delight.
Nice young girls don’t have scabby knees and dirt under their fingernails.
Time keeps flying all too quickly.
When we aren’t working—him on the house and me playing my shows—we are together. And in a slow, easy way, he becomes an important part of my life.
And now, in late August, I find myself dreading the end more and more.
Kieran’s taking me out tonight and there’s something else I’m dreading.
My father is coming to Martha’s Vineyard and it’s not good news for Danny Fitzgerald.
How can I tell Kieran?
He knocks on my door around seven. He whistles at me and I laugh. My hair is pulled up in a ponytail—something I’d never let my mother see—and I’m wearing a pair of blue shorts and a white t-shirt with a tiny whale on the front pocket. Nothing impressive, but Kieran always treats me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
I wish I could see myself through his eyes sometimes.
When we finish dinner, it’s still warm out, and though the sun has set, the sky holds on to some of its lightness.
Nothing like the cold darkness of winter, which sets in at 4 p.m. most days.
I hold Kieran’s hand, tugging him back toward my cottage. My own voraciousness is an interesting surprise. I’ve always b
een passionate about music, but my desire for this man frightens me.
I shouldn’t want someone who’s the enemy of my family so badly. Shouldn’t want him constantly, like he’s a drug. It’s not just the sex, though that has been a revelation. Kieran listens to me, values my input, and never makes me feel like an ornament or a tool.
I didn’t know relationships could be like that, though it’s not like I have many good examples.
Is this even a relationship? God, I don’t know.
Kieran chuckles and leads me in the opposite direction from my cottage. I press against his muscular arm.
We walk for a while, and suddenly we’re across from the carousel.
“It’s closed,” I murmur, pressing my lips to his bicep. I’d told him I’d never been on it, and he’d been horrified.
“Not for us it isn’t.” He takes me to the staff entrance and knocks on the back door. A tired-looking man opens it and waves us in.
“You have the place until midnight, Doyle. Don’t forget to lock up.”
The man tosses a wave and heads out. Kieran pulls on my hand.
“Pick a horse,” he says. “You’re going to want one on the outside so you can grab the rings.”
The carousel sits on a platform surrounded by a white picket fence. The center column and all of the support beams are painted a bright cheerful red. I’m almost afraid to touch the horses, and walk around slowly, taking it all in.
Finally I stop next to a yellow horse with a white mane. Kieran’s eyes are on me as I take a deep breath, grab onto the pole that runs through the horse’s center, step into a stirrup and swing my leg over the saddle.
“Done like a seasoned professional,” he says, kissing my nose. “I love your freckles.” He sweeps his thumb over the bridge of my nose.
My mother always insists I cover them up. They’re sun damage. Imperfections. I can’t stop the blush that follows.
“What?” Kieran asks.
“Nothing. I just can’t believe I’m here. I always wanted to do this, but it felt weird going alone. Especially as an adult.”
“Well you’re not alone.” His voice is thick. The sound goes right through me. He tugs on my ponytail before heading over to the control station. The carousel swings into motion, cueing up a muted version of the Wurlitzer music. Once it starts, Kieran’s back and hops up on the now-moving platform next to my horse.
“You see this arm?” He points to a triangular flap sticking out from the wall. “It has metal rings in it.”
We’re spinning slowly, but the arm seems to move out of range quickly. “You want to grab as many as you can, and if you get the brass ring, you get a free ride.”
“Is that right?” I ask. I try to sound suggestive. It’s still new to me, but Kieran’s sly grin tells me I’m doing something right.
As we pass the arm again, I reach out and snap up three rings.
Kieran shows me where to put them, on a metal post sticking out of the horses’ head, back between its ears. Every time we pass by, I snatch a few more and Kieran cheers like I’ve established world peace.
It’s endearing to have someone celebrate you for something so simple.
Why is it so easy with him?
As we make our way around the platform a final time, I snap the brass ring out of the arm and hand it to Kieran, smiling victoriously.
“I got it!”
He caresses my cheek. “You did, sweetheart.”
“That’s a free ride then.”
He heads back to the controls and cues the ride to start moving for a second time and then returns to me. He trails a finger up my thigh.
“I stole one of the rings,” he says, inching his fingers slowly toward the hem of my shorts. “My dad was pissed. But then I was helping him clean out his toolbox and I found one that he’d stolen. I guess he’d taken it to remember a date he’d had here with my mother.”
“Wonder what he’d think of you being here with me?”
It’s probably not the smartest thing to say, but I can’t help it.
He huffs a quiet laugh. “I don’t know, Siobhan. But I’m glad I’m here with you. Now.”
His fingers move up to the button of my shorts. He unsnaps it, pulling the zipper down. I pull up on the center pole of the horse to raise my hips, and he slides the shorts off. The horse moves slowly up and down as Kieran slips one of those magnificent hands of his under the soft cotton of my panties. I hold my hips up enough so he can flex his fingers against my center.
It feels incredible.
The rocking motion of the ride pushes the tips of his fingers into me in a steady rhythm. The knuckle of his thumb scrapes my clit, and my body jerks against his hand. I lick my lips and grip the pole tighter. It’s not enough. I want all of this man.
“I need more,” I moan.
He’s standing behind me, one hand buried in my panties, the other hand cupping my breast through my shirt.
“Move your hips up further,” he murmurs. “I won’t let you fall.”
I tilt my hips so the back of my ass is balanced on the saddle. I’m resting against his broad chest, my feet up on the horse’s head. Kieran rocks his fingers deep, deeper inside me as the ride surges up, and then pulling out as it moves back down.
“You feel so good,” he groans into my ear. “So hot and wet. Fuck, Siobhan. I can’t believe I get to touch you like this.”
The longing in his voice, coupled with a firm press of his thumb against my clit makes my hips jerk. I’m afraid, but he holds me steady.
Surrendering myself to this man, right now, in this moment, is the most freeing thing I’ve ever done. Closing my eyes and pressing harder into his chest, he senses my need. His fingers move faster, stroking my core with firm, delicious pressure. He works my clit, the rough pad of his thumb giving me that friction I want. That I need so badly.
“Please,” I moan. I grab at the pole, needy desperation pulling at me. “Kieran, please.”
What am I asking for, exactly? I want him to make me come, but I don’t want the pleasure to end, either.
It builds in me, electricity moving from his fingertips into my sensitive clit. He’s murmuring gentle encouragement in my ear as he works my body, pushing up harder, deeper, stroking my clit, pinching my nipples.
I thrust my hips to meet the rhythm of his hands, of the ride, feeling that incredible friction grow. I’m teetering on the brink, shaking and whimpering.
Kieran rakes his teeth over the delicate shell of my outer ear.
“You’re mine,” he growls, twisting his fingers in me, deeper, faster. “Come for me, Siobhan.”
And he’s mine, too.
At least in this moment.
The possessive tone in his voice sends me over the edge, and I come against his fingers, crying out my pleasure as I do, bucking against his hand.
I whimper when he takes his fingers away.
He pulls me off the horse, my legs like jelly. His touch is gentle, but his eyes are intense. I stare back at him, and he kisses me, pulling me tighter against the hard planes of his body. He carries me off the platform and sits me on the ticket counter. His cock strains against his pants, and I undo the zipper, stroking his cock through the gap.
“Kieran,” I whisper, running my hand over him in a gentle, teasing motion. “I don’t suppose you have a condom on you?”
He’s struggling for control and I love it. I palm his balls, then trace a finger around his shaft.
“Fuck.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a condom before gently moving my hand from him and kicking his pants, and then his boxers out of the way. He pulls his shirt over his head, and I take in his gloriously naked form.
He’s a big man, all hard muscle, and all mine.
“Take off your shirt,” he growls, rolling the condom down over his cock. “And your bra. I want to see those pretty tits of yours bounce as I fuck you.”
It’s so crude.
And so hot.
Not what I though
t I’d like until I’d met Kieran.
I do as he says, and then he picks me up with one arm, slipping my panties off with his free hand. He carries me over to a wall and pins me between it and him.
“This okay?” He asks, poised at my entrance.
I’m soaking wet. We shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not like this. The impropriety of it sends shivers through me.
“Yes. So good.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, and then pushes his cock into me, oh so slowly. It’s a tight fit.
“You feel so good inside me.” It’s more of a desperate whimper than I’d like, but that can’t be helped.
Kieran centers himself for a moment, and then begins pushing into me with steady, firm strokes. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. He draws my hips tighter, pushing up and in, his gorgeous cock gliding against my clit with every blinding thrust. I can’t control the noises coming out of my mouth.
My hips jerk up and down as he fucks me, and that electric friction builds hard and fast. There’s nothing elegant or refined about it—just pure raw sex as his eyes rake over my breasts, as he takes me against that wall, his cock like steel inside me.
The building pressure has me clawing his shoulders like a wild animal. Marking him as mine. He pushes inside me and grinds in a circular motion, and I’m coming apart in his arms, crying out his name as I clench helplessly around him.
He comes soon after, growling as he pumps in deep, deeper, biting the soft skin of my neck as he does.
We stay like that for a few moments until he sets me back on the ground. My knees are shaky, but I manage to pull my clothes on, as does he.
He pulls me against him, kissing me fiercely.
“That was probably very unsanitary,” he says, “but I’m up to date on my tetanus shot.”
“Kieran,” I shriek. “Way to ruin the mood.”
Thug: The Doyles: A Boston Irish Mafia Romance Page 10
