Read IrishAllure Online

Authors: Louisa Masters

IrishAllure (3 page)

Chapter Five

 

“Damn it,” Jillian muttered. Fin was standing right there in
the lift lobby, waiting for an elevator. She ducked back around the corner
before he could spot her, and then set off for the Victorian wing and the old
elevator. She’d been avoiding it because Fin had such a preference for it, but
if he was going to use the modern ones, then she really had no choice.

She pressed the call button and waited for the door to
rattle open. As beautiful as the lift was, it made her think of Fin, remember
what the two of them had done there.

What they could have done there.

Her body warmed, and her pussy dampened.
Fin’s chest, so
strong, his pecs defined, muscles tensing as he touched her…

His dick, thick, reaching toward her with a glistening
pearl of moisture at the head…

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and a shudder ran
down her spine. Surely she couldn’t be this unlucky?

Turning, she smiled weakly. “Hi, Fin.”

“Jillian.” He raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you for a
while. Were you waiting?” He gestured at the lift, door open, and she flushed.
Of course he’d catch her daydreaming about him.

“Er.” She stepped into the elevator. “I was—distracted.” He
followed her in and pushed the button for his floor, then hers. The door
closed.

Her fingers started to itch. His hair looked so soft. She
wanted to run her hands through it, tug a little, use her grip to guide his
head down…

Fuck it…

She reached out and grabbed him by the back of the neck,
jerked his head down, and pressed her open mouth to his.

“What…” He yanked back, looked at her, and she licked her
lips and pressed up against him. That was all it took.

He backed her up against the wall and kissed her, long, hot,
and with lots of tongue. His body pressed her against the wall, and she
undulated against his dick. He stroked down her body, sliding his hands into
her shirt, his fingers feather-light against her skin, and within seconds she
shivered, her nipples tightening almost painfully, then Fin’s hands were on her
hips, firm and steady, drawing the fabric of her skirt up, up, until it was
around her waist and his hands touched skin, stroking, catching hold of her
panties and drawing them down.

“Fin,” she gasped against his lips, pulling at his T-shirt,
desperate to get her hands on him. He let her go, yanked the shirt off, and
grabbed her again.

“Wait, your pants…”

He swore and she laughed, invincible in the face of his
desire, and between them they made quick work of his jeans and boxers, and she
was back in his arms, kissing her way along his neck to his delicious lips. She
moaned and rubbed against him again, loving the drag of his hard cock on her
abdomen, the dampness that signified pre-cum. Her pussy, already damp,
twitched. She tore her mouth away from his.

“Fin, do it, put it in. I don’t want to wait.” He didn’t
argue, just lifted her. She opened her legs and wrapped herself, arms and legs,
around him as he positioned himself and pushed into her. She wasn’t as ready as
she could have been, but she was wet enough to enjoy the friction as he slid
in. “Ungh…” She bit his neck as he began to thrust, a steady rhythm…too steady.
“Fin!” She deliberately contracted her pussy muscles around him, and he gasped,
his breathing becoming uneven. She did it again, and this time he moaned,
losing his rhythm.

“Harder,” she whispered, digging her hands and feet into his
back, and he started pumping again. This time his strokes were shorter, harder,
less about rhythm and more about instinct. Jillian’s breathing hitched, and her
whole body began to tingle as he continued to drive into her, his skin damp
with sweat. Pressure built deep in her pelvis.

“Fin, I’m going to come, just a bit more, more… Ohhh…”

Every muscle tensed, clenching hard, and the pleasure-pain
was almost too much, then it was over and she was limp. Only Fin’s grip on her
and the wall at her back kept her from being a puddle on the floor as Fin
continued to pound into her. Amazingly, terrifyingly, the tingling returned,
and as Fin groaned and pumped into her one last time, her cunt spasmed again.

* * * * *

Jillian banged her head against the desk.
What the hell
is wrong with me?
She’d spent the night tossing and turning after fleeing,
half-naked, from the elevator, leaving Fin with his jeans around his knees and
unable to follow. Minutes later, he’d knocked at her door, but she’d ignored
him, even when he’d gotten louder and started swearing. Eventually she’d heard
another voice, and then he’d left.

In the meantime, Marianna and Michael were arriving in less
than an hour, and she had to face Fin first.

Sighing, she rubbed her sore forehead and stood. She had no
idea what she was going to say to him. This mess was all her fault—she’d known
she couldn’t get involved with Fin, and yet she kept digging herself in deeper.

Pacing to the fireplace and back, she practiced what she
could say. “Fin, you’re a wonderful lover…no. Fin, I had a lot of fun, but…no.
Oh fuck it.” She grabbed her compendium and headed for the door. Better just to
get it over with.

She ran into her first problem when she reached the hall.
Where the hell was Fin’s room? Should she go to his room, or was that just
tempting fate? Maybe the best solution was to call his room and ask him to meet
her downstairs. Or she could just call his room and sort everything out over
the phone…
Don’t be a wuss, Jillian.
Determined, she headed for the
modern lifts. She’d go down to the lobby, call Fin’s room, and ask him to meet
her in the bar.

Moments later, she stepped into the lobby and came to a dead
stop. No need to call Fin’s room after all. He was standing over by the
concierge desk, talking to Seamus. Suddenly, she felt a strong desire to turn
tail and run.

He looked up and saw her, and his blue eyes made her stomach
weak. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to cross the lobby.

“Hi, gentlemen.”

“Good morning, Jillian,” Seamus greeted her courteously. Fin
said nothing.

“Fin, can I have a word?”

“That depends on what word you have in mind.”

Jillian blinked. “Um…”

“For example, if the word you’re thinking is ‘mistake’, then
I don’t want to hear it.” He held her gaze for a long moment while heat crept
up her neck. “That’s what I thought.” He walked away.

Even though she’d gotten the outcome she wanted—more or
less—Jillian felt tears well. Sniffling, she blinked them back and turned to
Seamus.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he interrupted. “Not your fault.”

She heaved a sigh. “Yes, it was. All my fault. Well, me and
that damn lift.”

“Ah.”

She looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing. What do you mean; what has the lift done?”

Jillian shook her head. “Not a thing except be there when I
act like an idiot. That elevator has been a witness every time I’ve done
something I shouldn’t.”

“Hm. Well. The thing about that lift is, it’s been a witness
to a lot of interesting things. And every one I’ve ever heard of has turned out
to be for the best.” He looked at her intently, as if trying to communicate
something.

“I’m not following you, Seamus.”

He smiled. “There’s not much to follow. Do you remember I
told you there was magic here?”

She frowned. “Are you saying it’s a magic elevator?”
Am I
actually having this conversation?

Seamus chuckled. “I think the word ‘magic’ is relative. Did
the elevator ever transport you to a distant planet?”

Jillian laughed, and then noticed that Seamus was watching
her expectantly. “No! No, I never ended up on another planet.”

He grinned. “So, not magic in the obvious way then. Think
about everything you’ve done in the elevator. Was any of it bad? Something
terrible, something that you’ll regret until your dying day? If not, maybe you
were supposed to do those things, and being in the elevator just…facilitated that.”

Silence. Jillian looked at him.

“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Chapter Six

 

Jillian watched as Marianna and Michael danced their first
dance as a married couple, and for the first time in her career, wondered if
facilitating this wedding had been the wrong thing to do.

Not my business.
Since Marianna’s arrival, Jillian
hadn’t had a moment to call her own—Bridezilla had even woken her twice during
the night. But the wedding had been an amazing success. Three guests had
already come to speak with her about planning events for them.

The emcee invited guests to join the bridal couple and
across the room, Fin drew his mother out onto the dance floor. Jillian sighed.
He looked incredibly handsome in his dark suit, and again she wished things
could have been different.

“…maybe you were supposed to do those things…every one
I’ve ever heard of has turned out to be for the best…”

Was she being an idiot? Fin was nice. He was funny.
Intelligent, considerate,
patient,
a great lover… What was holding her
back? The opinion of a woman she didn’t like, and more importantly, didn’t
respect?

Almost before she’d made the decision, she was walking
across the room. She reached Fin just as the dance was coming to a close.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Dunne, can I just borrow Fin for a moment?”

Mrs. Dunne smiled, while Fin’s face remained expressionless.
“Of course, Jillian. I’m going to go powder my nose.”

Jillian took Fin’s arm and led him away from the dance
floor, carefully not looking at Marianna. He followed her, unresisting, but as
soon as they left the ballroom, he stopped and pulled his arm away.

“What do you want, Jillian?” Her heart shriveled at his
tone.
Be brave.

“I was wrong.” She blurted the words, not sure until they
came out what she was going to say. She took a deep breath. At least he wasn’t
walking away. “I didn’t trust myself, so even though I wanted you and want to
be with you, I kept backing away. But I was wrong. And I hope it’s not too
late.” Screwing up her courage, she went on tiptoe and kissed him.

It took less than three seconds for him to kiss her back.

* * * * *

The door slammed open and Fin pulled Jillian into his room.
He barely took the time to push the door closed before yanking her back into
his arms.

Her mouth met his eagerly.
Mine mine mine mine.
His
mouth tore away from hers and he pressed kisses down her neck, stopped to lick
and nip at her collarbone.

“Hurry,” she gasped, pulling his shirt out of his pants and
sliding her hands underneath. His skin was hot, smooth, and she loved the
sensation.

“How quickly can you get that shirt off?”

“I need both hands.” She stroked her hands up his torso.

“Never mind then.” He pushed her onto the bed. She watched
him undo his shirt, tearing at the buttons, and the sight of his chest in the
light from the window spurred her to action. She pulled her blouse off over her
head and unzipped her skirt. As she wriggled out of it, Fin stopped stripping
and watched her.

Heat flooded her face. “Don’t look.”

“Are you serious?” He sounded incredulous. She sat on the
bed, wearing only her underwear, and realized how ridiculous her words sounded.

“I mean…” She shook her head. “Hurry.”

He pushed his pants and boxers down his legs, stepped out of
them, and joined her on the bed.

Several drugging kisses later, Jillian’s bra and panties
were gone and Fin’s hands were all over her. She loved it. She smoothed her
hands down his back and over the hollows just above his ass. He hissed and his
body arched.

“You okay?” She paused.

“Do it again.”

Grinning, she stroked the sensitive spot again. In
retaliation, he bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth.

His cock was hard against her leg, and she shifted, enjoying
the sensation on the skin of her inner thigh. He gasped, moved, and then his
dick was rubbing against her pussy.

She moaned.

He abandoned her nipple to kiss his way down her belly,
pausing briefly at her navel. His hot hands grasped her hips, and he laved her
navel, causing her stomach muscles to spasm wildly. He licked his way down her
abdomen, and she shivered as his breath fanned across her skin. He paused.

“Fin!” The groan tore from her throat. He tipped his head
back and his blue eyes met hers.

“Patience, Jillie.” The rasp of his voice had an amused
edge. If she hadn’t been so desperate for his mouth, she could have strangled
him.

Then his hand was on her thigh, opening, lifting her leg
onto his shoulder, and his mouth was there, hot, wet, open, dragging over her
clit, his tongue stroking up her slit. She knotted her hands in his hair,
dragging him harder against her as he lapped at her. The combination of his
tongue and his teeth sent her wild, a keening sound bursting from her lips
before she could help herself. Her hips bucked uncontrollably in his grasp. He
licked a path up her slit, and this time his fingers followed, teasing their
way toward her cunt, and then sliding smoothly inside. Her inner muscles, until
now starved for attention, instantly clamped down and spasmed around him as he
continued to lavish attention on her with his mouth.

She came again before he decided he’d had enough.

She was still catching her breath when he moved away. Foil
crinkled, then he was back, hard hands on her knees drawing her thighs open
even wider. The hot, hard force of his cock sliding smoothly into her was
enough to have her gasping again.

“Ohhhhh.” Her eyes drifted closed. Her muscles stretched
around him as he drove in, over and over. Despite having come only moments
before, her body was already pulsing with need.

He stilled, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her,
panting, his pupils dilated. The raw hunger on his face was the hottest thing
she’d ever seen.

“Move,” she gasped, desperate.

He withdrew, then rammed back into her.

“Naahhaa.” She sounded like a cat in heat, but she didn’t
care.

The next few minutes were hazy. She knew she was making
aggressive noises, wordlessly begging. She heard his hoarse responses, and her
body clenched around him as he drove into her.

Their bodies slicked together, and then she came again―a
wilder, more powerful orgasm than before, her whole body tightening almost
unbearably, clamping down on him, going on and on, draining all her strength.
She was distantly aware of Fin groaning his own completion, his body spasming
against her.

Until, finally, they were done. Sweaty and breathless and
satisfied.

“Jillie?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t regret this tomorrow.”

“God, no. I want you and I’m not letting you go.” She pulled
his head down and kissed him. Their tongues tangled, breath mingling.

Finally, Fin lifted his head. “I want you too.”

 

About Louisa Masters

 

Louisa lives in Melbourne, Australia, where she has a
long-standing love affair with the sensual pleasures of life: wine, bubble
baths, ice-cream and books. Nothing gives an illicit thrill like reading a sexy
story on the train while those around you are oblivious. Get into a sexy state
of mind and feel that thrill with Louisa’s books! Louisa also writes mainstream
romance as Olivia Ventura.

 

The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

 

 

 

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Irish Allure

 

ISBN 9781419992964

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Irish Allure Copyright © 2015 Louisa Masters

 

Edited by Susan Edwards

Cover design by Allyse Leodra

Cover photography by Shutterstock

 

Electronic book publication April 2015

 

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