Page 33 of Until Ireland

“Do you?” I asked, trying to keep myself under control. I hoped and prayed she did, otherwise I was going to need another shower tonight.

“Yes,” she responded so quietly, my ears strained to hear her.

It was all the permission I needed. I rolled, tucking her curvy little body under me while making sure to keep my weight on my forearms by her head so I didn’t squish her.

“Oh, baby.” I groaned, working my hips between her legs. Her warm pussy seared my dick through my boxer briefs. Newsflash, Ireland didn’t have a stitch of clothing on under the borrowed t-shirt she was wearing.

Not wanting to give her my full weight, I leaned onto my right forearm while my left hand got busy removing the shirt that kept me from seeing her body in all its glory.

When the shirt got caught up in her hair, Ireland took over, lifting her upper body, pulling the fabric over her head, and tossing it on the floor.

Nothing prepared me for my first glimpse of her body in the soft light of room. Sure, I’d imagined her naked and in my bed several times, but reality was the clear winner. Perfect firm breasts and cream skin topped with the most delicate little nipples in the palest of pink I’d ever seen greeted my perusal. My gaze flickered to the flare of her hips, the little rounded belly that I knew one day in the future would be filled with my babies, and finally on the trim red curls covering her sex.

Jesus, she was stunning, and all of her beautiful body was mine to tease and caress. To hold, to protect, and most importantly to love. It’d be my most important job to date, and one I’d gladly do every damn day.

Ireland cleared her throat. “You’re looking at my breasts again.”

It was a struggle, but eventually, I was able to tear my eyes from her tits and focus on her face. Looking at her, it wasn’t hard to miss the desire I saw reflected in her gaze or in the way her voice quivered when she spoke.

She was just as much a goner as I was.

I cocked a brow and gently reminded her, “Except, if memory serves me, you did give me permission this time.”

She laughed, entwining her legs around mine, pulling me deeper to her into the apex of her thighs. “I did. I just want to know if you were planning to look all night or do something with the naked woman in your bed?”

I chuckled. “Oh, cupcake, rest assured, I’m going todothe woman in my bed all night long. It’s just—” I shook my head, and my gaze dropped back down to her chest. “Your breasts are even better when you’re naked.”

Ireland giggled. “Thank you…I think.”

“Trust me, cupcake, it was a compliment,” I promised her.

I said a silent prayer, hoping for control, otherwise, I’d end up embarrassing myself and coming the moment I got inside of her. Not something I wanted for our first time. Hell, I didn’t want that to happen any time we climaxed together.

Ireland wasn’t helping matters though. Her hands were busy burning a path across my shoulders, up and down my chest, and finally onto my lower back, right above my ass. I groaned in pleasure when her fingers dove under the black fabric holding back my dick and she gave my butt a hearty squeeze. She pulled me tight against her body.

Needing a taste of her, I pressed my lips to hers with a gentle kiss. A bolt of desire shot through my body. Ireland gasped, and ever the opportunist, I slipped between her lips. Our tongues dueled in an open-mouthed, carnal kiss. It was wet, sloppy, and hot as hell. Breaking the kiss, I nibbled my way along her jawline to her neck, pausing to mark the area on her shoulder with my teeth. I inhaled her scent, a mix of fruity bodywash, searing it into my brain. Then I kissed my way down to her breasts. I used my left hand to push the plump flesh up toward my mouth before placing a soft kiss on the pink tip. Her hips jerked, and she pressed her wet core against my lower stomach and groin, marking me with her juices.

My lips drew the taut bud into my mouth. I moaned against her flesh while lashing the tight little pearl and suckling it hard.

“Mack…” Ireland whimpered, wrapping her legs around my lower half.

Releasing her nipple, I kissed my way over to her neglected breast, giving it the same attention as the other. I swear, she tasted of tart apples with a hint of spicy cinnamon. It made me wonder if her pussy tasted as sweet. Unable to help myself, I shifted down her body, craving a sample of her cunt. Ireland, as if sensing my end game, spread her legs, draping them over my shoulders and allowing me to settle my face between her thighs.

Without a word, I ran my tongue through her soaked folds, savoring her tangy sweetness on my taste buds. “Jesus, baby, you taste good,” I mumbled against her swollen flesh, licking her again and again, needing more of her taste in my mouth.

Ireland gasped when I gave her vagina an openmouthed kiss. Her fingers burrowed into my hair, finding purchase, and she held me tight against her. I gazed up over her lush body to where she cupped her tits, her thumb and forefinger worrying her nipples while I feasted on her sweet cunt. It was a thing of beauty, and next time I fucked her, I was going to make sure she was riding my dick so I could watch her play with her tits.

I spread the lips of her pussy apart with my fingers, noticing the paleness of her sex matched the color of her areolas. The bundle of nerves at the top of her mound was swollen, wet, and throbbing with need. I gave it a gentle kiss before I blew a puff of air over it.

Ireland groaned in pleasure.

Her little body was so damn responsive

I continued devouring her, pushing her closer and closer to an orgasm. I sunk a finger into her, feeling the warm, wet, tightness of her channel. I’d never been the type of guy to engage in oral sex with a woman in the hopes she’d return the favor with a blowjob. I always enjoyed giving head as well as receiving it, but it was never a requirement. With Ireland, I suspected it’d be something I’d crave daily.

I worked a second finger into her, searching for her sweet spot—the one place I knew would drive her wild. Curling my fingers in a come-hither motion, I pushed her closer and closer to orgasm. Her back arched off the bed. Her eyes went wide as her nails dug into my scalp. The bite of pain across my skin added to the arousal pooling low in my gut. My cock throbbed. When I looked up at her, I groaned. She was beauty personified. At the first flutter of her orgasm, Ireland screamed, and I swirled my tongue through her sex, gathering every drop of her release and savoring her sweetness. When the ripples of her channel eased its grip on my fingers, I slipped them from her body.

Ireland mewled in protest.

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