Page 60 of The Scald Crow

“Here?” I twisted my neck and looked longingly toward the cottage.

“You’re not afraid of me? Are you, Faerie girl?” He dragged his tongue across the seam of my lips, his voice rough-hewn and hard.

“I’m not afraid.” Arrows of heat shot straight to my core. He made my mind lust.

“Good.” He slid his hands beneath my hoodie, lifted my arms over my head, and tossed the fleece away. It landed front-side up.

I read the words—boys lie.

My skin prickled and burned.

“Should I be? Afraid?” My bottom lip trembled. The weight of his hand grazing my flesh made my sex quiver.

“You’ve been riding me for days now. Bespelling my mind. Haunting my dreams. Leaving me in a wee bit of distress.” He slid his index finger beneath the pink band of my bra, flicking the snap free and spilling my breasts.

“Well, that’s your fault. You didn’t give me a chance to remedy your discomfort.” I tried not to flinch. Instead, I arched my back, jutting my breasts toward him, tantalizing him.

“Look at me.” His eyes filled with luminous light as he caressed each swell with his knuckles.

“You’re not the boss of me, O’Donnell.” My mouth watered, my nipples hardening into taut nubs. I was ready, so ready. I wanted to have my way with him, yet it appeared to be the other way around. As much as he pointed out his distress, he seemed to want me—at his mercy.

“Let’s pretend I am.” He dragged his lips down my face, suckling my lower lip into his mouth.

I lost what remained of my mind. I wanted him to touch me again, to squeeze my breasts, to suck my nipples into his hot mouth.

“Take those off.” He released me and stepped back, motioning toward the sweatpants hugging my hips.

“Now? Right here?” My mouth watered, fueled by insatiable need.

“Aye.” He peered through half-slits, his smile devil-made.

“Okay,” I whispered under my breath. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I pushed the sweats down, leaving them pooled at my feet. I slipped my thumbs into my lace panties, intending to bare it all. Like, why not? I had everything to lose. The V-Card had been in my possession far too long.

“No,mo grhá.” In one fluid motion, he bound my wrists in his left hand, raising my arms, pinning me against the barnboard wall.

My breath hitched. Dreaming of Colm was never like this.

“What do you mean, no? Don’t you want me?” My bare bottom pressed into the jagged boards, the triangular slip of lace the only thing concealing my sex. The sun shone between us, red-orange with fiery heat.

“Aye, but not today.” He held my hands, his beautiful face angled and hard.

I lowered my gaze to the apex of his cargo pants. His erection strained the fabric, the length threatening, the width imposing. I did that to him. My presence. My will. That I could do that made my heart sing.

“Close your eyes. Tell me what you’re feeling.” He drew his index finger between my breasts, over my taut belly, and snapped the elastic waistband of my panties.

“I’m throbbing.” I pressed the back of my head against the wooden boards, my sex clenching in anticipation.

“What’s throbbing?” His breath mingled with mine. He was hot. So hot.

“My sex. My pussy.” My mouth watered for a taste.

“What else.” He leaned close, searing my nape with a hot lick.

“My breasts are on fire. My skin tingles.” I bowed my hips, seeking his bulging erection.

”You will burn for me,mo grhá, and no one else.” He traced a hot path over my collarbone, circling my breast, scraping his teeth over one pebbled nub.

“Yes.” I arched into him, floating in a sea of desire.

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