She opened her legs, and her body seized as he splayed them farther apart. He molded his mouth against her damp crotch and lashed her with his tongue. Moira closed her eyes, engulfed in the sweet sensuality of the moment. She let loose with another scream as his tongue teased along the soft folds of skin, licking away her wetness as well as the champagne.
“I want you, Moira. Please come and share my bed tonight.”
At his lusty plea, something snapped in her brain. To hell with remaining a virgin until marriage. She couldn’t deny herself and her body the pleasure of his company tonight. No other man had ever treated her with such respect and kindness.
Reilly stood and stroked her wet skin. Tenderly, he cupped her face between his hands. His trousers were soaked from contact with her wet body, but he didn’t seem to care.
“I’m not the Devil. Just a man who wants a woman. You.”
At his mention of the Devil, Helen’s words echoed in her mind.
“Just realize. You’re about to make a deal with the Devil and there will be no turning back. God have mercy on your soul, Moira Monaghan.”
She shook her head and cleared her thoughts. That was pure nonsense. Besides, they weren’t making any deal—just whoopee. “Yes, Reilly. I want you more than anything.”
Moira buried her face against Reilly’s shirtfront and inhaled his scent. Her heart hammered as he lifted her from the tub and carried her naked, shivering body toward the largest canopy bed she’d ever seen.
The satin sheets cooled her flesh, and she watched him undress. His long, tapered fingers fumbled not in the slightest as he untied his shoes and tossed them aside. He turned and winked at her. Between his full lips, white teeth flashed a heart-stopping smile. Before she could swallow the mouthful of spit, his shirt floated to the floor. Next, he unbuttoned the top half of his union suit and stripped it from his shoulders, freeing his arms. She followed the flapping sleeves as they flopped against his legs.
She drank in every detail of his bare chest. Coils of fiery-red hair formed a halo around each of his nipples. Moira laughed. Imagine, something so heavenly on such a devilish figure of a man.
His belly was hard, but not as hard as the organ underneath his trousers. The leather belt he wore hissed as he ripped it loose from the keepers. His nimble fingers worked against the buttons of his fly. Soon, the gray garment fell to his feet and he stepped free. She reached between her legs and rubbed herself hard.
She glanced at the hearth. Orange flames licked the logs, burning them as passion now did within her. Would tonight reduce her to ashes much like those pieces of wood? Ashes swept up and useless once every ounce of burning energy was consumed? Moira rested her head against one of the pillows and conjured images of Reilly completely naked. Only his union suit remained. Better to have a surprise. Something to look forward to—and at.
The mattress shifted as Reilly flipped back the coverlet and pounced on the bed. In a crouched position, he approached her still body. Only inches from where she lay, he rose up and supported himself on his knees. Saints preserve. Between his legs, the erect organ appeared harder than the hammers in her father’s toolbox and almost as long. A soft sac of skin dangled underneath, much like a pouch of marbles. She swallowed hard.
Liquid fire shot through her loins at his appeal. Into her outstretched arms, he came, molding his body against hers. So powerful was his weight, she could barely move, but not that she wanted to.
They clung together, green gaze meeting blue. Skin against skin. Against the softness of her breast, his heart pounded like a bass drum.
“Tonight I want to show you how much I care about you...and love you, Moira.”
Only a whimper escaped between her lips. His tongue lashed across her neckline and breasts. He caught one of her erect nipples between his teeth. Passion held her captive, and his tongue teased the bud of flesh until she cried out for more.
Moira moved and thrust her hips against his belly. Some of the champagne still shone on her skin, and Reilly’s tongue claimed every remaining drop. Down over her belly, his lips traced a scalding path and paused just before reaching her wet sex. Posed on all fours, he straddled her and pressed his legs against her sides. When he knelt to lavish attention on her nipples, Moira raked her nails across his bared back.
Caught up in the web of his wickedness, she closed her eyes and thrashed against the sheets. Underneath, they dampened and tore free from the mattress. She ground her hips against him, but soon his kisses stopped and he moved away from her. The mattress shifted again as he left the bed.
She opened her eyes and gasped at the sight before her. Reilly had draped a crimson silk scarf over his head and body. He crawled over to where she lay and peeked out from under his hiding place. Moira pulled off the scarf.
From his lips dangled a delightful string of creamy pearls. They must have cost a small fortune. Her pulse quickened. Why was he playing at a time like this? Why does he have that wild look in his eyes? Almost like a madman.
Reilly dropped the pearls between her legs and laughed a low, wicked laugh. Almost a growl. Moira claimed them, but her spirits sank as he left the bed. Bare-assed, he walked across the room, bent over the pool table and prepared it for his next shot.
Thwack.
The red ball slapped into the side pocket and rattled against the wood upon falling. Again, he drew back his arm and shoved the stick forward, the tip meeting the white ball with brute force.
Moira trembled. Would he come back to bed or prefer a game of pool to pleasuring her?
Suddenly, he turned and raked his blue-hot gaze over her. Instead of reaching for the odd cube of chalk, he licked the end of the stick and polished it with his thumb.
Approaching the bed, he twirled the wooden stick through his fingers, almost as though it were a cane. Closer and closer he came, finally propping one leg up on the bed.
The soft sac of skin between his legs swayed, and his shaft jutted at the base of his belly. Moira longed to touch him there and feel the most vulnerable part of this tough man’s body.
“Why did you stop playing?” She opened her legs wider.
“The next shot requires a different angle.” He crawled over beside her, the cue stick still in his right hand.
Was he confused or crazy with desire? Why did he keep looking between her legs instead of at the game table?
Struck by his strange behavior, Moira flopped onto the feather-filled pillows and stared up at the canopy cover. God help her. She was falling even faster for Reilly Dunne and his crazy, devilish ways and didn’t want to stop.
She looked in his direction. Again, he placed the end of the stick between his lips and moistened it with his tongue. Moira shivered as he drew the tip down over the tangle of curls below her belly. The stick’s shiny black nub came to rest at the tender folds between her legs. As he pressed the tip against her swollen spot, Moira gasped.
“Oooh, Reilly. There aren’t any balls down there.”
He cupped his crotch, proudly displaying his hardness that strained only inches from where the pool stick rested. “No. They’re down here, sweet dove. And now that you’ve chalked my cue, I can call my pocket sure and enough.”
“What if you miss?”
“I’ve never missed a shot like this. Part those honey lips, Moira. Let me see what I’ve been missing.”
Moira tugged at her damp folds. “You’re the devil, Reilly Dunne.”
“That heavenly body of yours is stokin’ the hellfires within me more every minute.”
Reilly teased the cue’s tip across her wetness and evidently found the target he sought. Skilled at this game, he stroked the swollen bean, pulling the stick back from time to time and allowing her to recover before continuing his torment.
“How does that feel? Would you like my cock there next?”
“Touch me there with your lips. Kiss me, Reilly. Hard.”
He grinned and acted as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Instead of casting the stick away and kissing her body in its time of need, he hurried over to the pool table and called his next shot.
Propped up on her elbows, she watched one ball bump off another until the last one—a yellow ball—disappeared into the pocket he’d called.
“Enough of that,” he said and tossed the slender stick of wood onto the table. He charged across the room and sprang onto the bed like a wild cat.
So, he wants to take up where we left off? Moira posed in the most provocative way she knew how, legs and lips open to admit him.
Reilly trailed a warm, callused finger over her breasts before poking it into her navel. “I don’t need a map to find the hole where your treasure’s buried, do I?”
“Come to me and make me forget everything else tonight.”
“What do you want me to do to you? What are you going to do to me?”
She paused. He probably wasn’t used to bedding virgins. How could she answer such questions? Maybe if she let her actions speak for her?
Hot and demanding, his mouth crushed against hers, leaving her gasping for air and more attention from his long tongue. If this was how lovers behaved, why had she waited all these years to find out what all the fuss was about?
* * * *
The amber glow from the bedside light made Moira’s hair appear on fire. Reilly reached for her hand and placed it on his hard cock.
“Have you ever played the flute, Moira?”
“The piano, but not the flute.”
He threw back his head and chuckled at her innocence. “Come a bit closer. Kiss my head. Lick me like you would a lollipop.”
Her full breasts swayed every time she moved in the slightest. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples. The lovely rosebuds appeared ready to burst. She stroked his forehead and moved her face closer to his.
“Not that head, Moira. The other one.” Reilly grasped his cock and waved it at her. “The harder one.”
Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. His cock surged at the thought of being held in her hot, wet mouth while she sucked him for all she was worth. Moira was a bit feisty at times. Would she bite?
She moved herself between his legs and claimed his hardness with her mouth. Reilly rose off the bed. Her mouth opened wider to admit more of him. Deeper, he fed her his hot sausage.
He rocked his hips back and forth. She tolerated his hefty cock without choking. Most it now rested in her mouth and strained against the back of her throat.
“I’ll feed you, sweet Moira. Every ounce of my fat cock between those pretty lips of yours. Suck hearty. Enjoy every minute before I lick your honey-covered snatch.”
A low moan gurgled in her throat. She pulled her head back and then slid her lips farther down his hardness, completely devouring him once again. Great day. If she were this energetic when he thrust into her, they’d break the bed down.
Her tongue lashing was wonderful, but his own sexual hunger demanded attention. Reilly tackled her back onto the pillows, and located the string of pricey pearls. “You’d look lovely in these. And they’d look lovely in you.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Ssshhh. You’ll soon find out.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer. “I want to feel your tongue over my body. Kiss me like you’ve never kissed another woman.”
That he would. Without hesitation. The soft pink folds of her sex beckoned. Reilly parted them and admired her beauty. Now to see what she really wants. He traced a fingertip around the opening. Her hips strained toward his hand. He plunged two fingers deep into her. Damn, but she was tight. He pulled them out and licked away the wetness while she moaned for more.
“Don’t stop, Reilly.”
The heat inside her honey pot was so intense. Yes, tonight he’d pop her pretty cherry, but he wouldn’t rush things. Moira was special and she needed a night to remember forever.
“Let’s see how these look?” He lashed at her nipples with one end of the pearls. Like flowers, they bloomed in response. A stronger wave of desire flooded his brain and body.
Gooseflesh formed on her belly as he trailed the pearls toward the truest source of her heat. Moira’s sweet musk filled the room. His sheets would smell like her for days. He’d fall asleep each night dreaming of her.
Her breathing was soft and shallow, but she sprang to life when the pearls touched her slick and swollen flaps. One by one, Reilly slipped the pearls into her sex. Sweat dripped from his brow and landed on the red curls springing up below her belly. His body ached at the notion of joining with hers.
Only a half-inch section remained between his fingers, and Reilly sought further play. “Let’s play tug of war, Moira.”
She propped up on her elbows and shot him a puzzled look. “What a time to play games. Is that what you really want?”
“No. I want you. I promise you’ll enjoy this like nothing else. I want your happiness above all else. When I tug on these pearls, you try to keep me from getting them back.”
Moira played along, and he almost exploded at her strength. His hands slick with her jism, he fought to keep control of the precious pearls and nearly lost. Her body strained against the bed, and she gripped those gems like nothing he ever expected. On one vigorous tug, he almost went backwards off the end of the bed.