Page 80 of Intimately Faithful

A shock of satisfaction stirred through him when she turned her face and nuzzled into his palm.

“You won’t hear one growl, sweetheart.”

He came back to life with a throat-rasping grunt, as he tried …and failed to rein in a side of himself that she reveled in, but he didn’t feel wholly comfortable unleashing and not on her because that side of him was possessive.

Rough and unhinged to keep her.

No one ever tapped into the bruising power that uplifted his arousal. Only Aoife. It was as if they were both forged from the same intoxicating cloth and it’s only worsened with time.

Their bodies might be sated for the time being, he’d had her more than twice already. Each time more consuming… domineering than the last and his rascal of a ginger girl’s cries of pleasure only fueled his dark fire.

Curled up on his lap, pliant like a boneless fairy, he massaged her inner thighs to help with the ache he put there.

He’d gone at her too hard, toorough, at her insistence, and his brain had shorted out with want battering his lines of defense. Sorry he’d hurt her delicate body, though she screamed her orgasms loud enough. Yet he didn’t deny the selfish pride too.

Making her feel so good became an addiction over the last few hours and she’d contorted her back muscles until he’d thought she’d contracted rigor mortis and then she’d gushed over his belly and chest.

Her orgasms made him feel like a warrior. Those hot little looks she fluttered his way made him feel likeher manand it was a title he never wanted to give up again.

Every hot inhale was his own brain telling him to give her more pleasure.

Nothing felt as satisfied as giving that last pump into her close-fitting, eager body and feeling how tighter she’d squeezed him.

It was impossible to assume anything else in life would feel as good.

Facing the jealousy head on he kissed her temple. He needed to know it all.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I won’t pout or say stupid shit.”

The leap was here as she hesitated, and he knew why. Because he’d already been a colossal dickhead by not giving her what she needed from him.

Lust wrapped around his middle when her fingers found the skin of his stomach underneath his shirt. She was just burrowing in to cuddle, he knew that. Finding her place, but it didn’t stop the banks of fires flushing to life and he had to warn his body to stand down. This was the time for words not action.

He stilled her wriggling for his own sanity with a heavy hand on her hip and willed his erection to ease because if she made a move to free his heavy shaft, he’d be useless to tell her no.

His craving to Aoife was a healthy one if he were comparing it to snorting cocaine six times a day. He could accept any circumstances that brought her back to him, that was his stark revealing truth. He’d take her with a thousand husbands in her past.

Against his chest, her heart was sprinting.

“He was a sixty-five-year-old man, Danny,” What was that about him not saying shit?

His stomach felt like it was being bashed with helium.

He had to listen and not jump in headfirst like a jealous dipshit.

“We didn’t do a thing. I would have cut his wrinkled dick off had he ever tried to put a finger on me.” He grunted using a thumb to massage her hip. “He needed a pretty face, as he told it, to keep his bratty kids in line about their inheritance. I was a pawn for my father and for the sham husband too…I feel sick even saying that word. I should have only ever had one husband. I had to meet him six hours after da offered me up like a set of keys in the middle of the gambling table and I told him right off the bat, I was doing it for my crap father, and it was in name only and I’d slice his balls off in his sleep if he ever tried to touch me.”

Relief kicked a knot of rocks around his belly. Nuzzling his lips to her forehead he shared. “I’ll be fucking you when we’re sixty-five. Any chance I get.” She laughed, running her fingers on his waist.

“Oh, I hope so. I’ll need knee pads.”

He loved her.

He loved her knowing that she’d been married; it didn’t matter once he got used to his jealousy pounding his brain, but hearing the details settled some of that rage in him. Danny rubbed a hand over the back of her neck as she nuzzled his chest with her cheek. He still had a million questions and he filled his deprived lungs to capacity. “You said you were glad he was dead. Does that mean he was cruel to you in other ways?”

“He liked to remind me any chance he got that I was a possession he owned, parading me around his family dinners and golf functions and how he could return me any day he liked to make da pay his debt. I had my own wing of his house, hardly saw him some weeks, but he never let me forget I was a thing he controlled.”

Fuck her father. If the day ever came he saw that man again, Danny couldn’t be held responsible for how many times his fist landed on the other man’s face.

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