The Irish Devil (30 page)

“Dear friends,” Viola shouted. “What shall I do with these flowers?”

“Throw them!” “Here!” “To me!” “Over yonder!” were some of the cries that went up in response.

The bed lurched, and William tightened his grip on his wife as some men tried to point to where they thought her bouquet should go. By general agreement, the bed was placed on the ground and the bearers moved away to see the toss.

“Help me up, please,” Viola hissed.

William’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, then he helped her stand up on the bed. She measured the crowd around them while still more suggestions arose. Then she threw the bouquet down the street, straight at the farthest unmarried woman.

A roar went up. “Who’s going to marry her, boys?” someone shouted.

“You lads can settle that. Who wants to dance?” Morgan shouted in answer.

The crowd shouted its approval and surged toward the depot. William jumped off the bed, snatched Viola into his arms, and escaped into the compound before anyone could change their minds about resuming the shivaree. Much as they’d both enjoyed that foolishness, he needed to be someplace private with his wife.

A few laggards hooted their approval as he kicked his front door shut.

Viola giggled and laid her head against his shoulder, the roses tickling his cheek. “Don’t you want to invite them?” she teased.

“No, they can find their own women. Enough is enough, wife. Society’s approval is all well and good but, dammit, not always necessary.”

He captured her mouth in a hard kiss. She sighed her agreement, her nipples urgent buds as she shifted to move closer.

He shouldered his bedroom door open, a little uncertain as to what he might find. But this time the setting was perfect. His furniture stood where it should and candles blazed from every surface. The bed was covered in rose petals, with more scattered over the Persian rugs. Sheaves of corn decorated each post, in echo of the old Irish fertility custom.

“Oh, William, it’s beautiful,” Viola breathed.

“A bower for my beloved faerie queen. I swear I’ll do my utmost to make you happy.”

“Just love me always, as I’ll love you,
mo mhùirnìn,”
Viola whispered.

William’s heart stopped beating. She’d even reached out beyond the bounds of English for him. “You speak Gaelic now?”

“Just a little. McBride translated a few words for me, such as darling.” She flushed adorably, her deep blue eyes enormous. “I enjoy hearing you speak that language and I hope you’ll say more if I encourage you. Perhaps one day we can share it with our sons.”

“Mo bhean,
my wife, you are too good for me.” He kissed her forehead gently, shaking a little. “I love you.”

She caressed his cheek gently and traced his jawline. Her fingers slipped lower and stroked his throat, just above his stiff white collar.
“Mo cridhe.
You truly are my heart.”

He kissed her again and set her down on the bed. He leaned over her and traced her face below her silver-gilt hair and crown of roses. Her enormous indigo-blue eyes, features as clear and pure as a faerie maiden’s, supple lips that so eagerly welcomed his mouth, or any other portion of his anatomy.

He explored her with his lips, worshipping her wordlessly. He kissed and laved her ear, then the sensitive spot just below on her neck. He lingered there, awakening her senses in the fashion she enjoyed so well. A little scrape of his teeth over her pulse caused her to moan his name as her arms came up to welcome him.

His hand curved over her breasts as he returned to her ear. She shuddered and shifted under him, lifting up to meet his caresses. Her breasts firmed and her nipples hardened under the rich cloth.

His breathing became harsher as his own nipples stiffened in response.
“Mo mhùirnìn,”
he growled as his rough finger slipped under her dress to find her skin’s silk.

“William,” she gasped. Her fingers threaded into his hair as her breathing became ragged.

He shivered and returned to her mouth. Long moments passed before his fingers returned to her clothing. Then he undressed her with all the expertise he’d gained in a lifetime without her, the skills that would now be bent toward her alone. He removed her garments smoothly, far more interested in the woman he explored and pleasured than the outer shell demanded by society.

She groaned, her little cries telling him how much she enjoyed his attentions. Rich blood colored her breasts, speaking clearly of her carnal excitement.

His mouth lingered there for a long while, tracing every muscle and vein. Her nipples bloomed for him and he rewarded them, licking and nibbling. Finally he suckled her, using the deep pulls she so loved.

She arched off the bed convulsively and sobbed his name. He repeated the caress over and over again, his hand fondling her other breast in the same rhythm. He switched sides, making sure he incited both equally. She shuddered and moaned, then found a peak of rapture.

William smiled quietly, triumphantly. He’d be happy to feed her delight for years to come. Sarah could be correct, that Viola only needed to add a few pounds in order to gain the strength to conceive children. But he was in no hurry to see that happen. He’d rather have her than risk her life for a houseful of sons or daughters.

He eased her wedding dress off and tossed it carelessly onto the chair.

Viola murmured something, likely an objection.

He nuzzled her sweet shoulder, then asked, “Did you say something, sweetheart?”

“Nothing of importance,” she sighed and ran her hands down his back. “Except, perhaps, you seem to be overdressed for this occasion.”

He rumbled his appreciation of her hint and stood up to discard his clothes as rapidly as possible. A small hand fondled his ass when he bent to step out of his trousers.

William looked over his shoulder at her quizzically. “Yes, wife?”

She blushed and smiled, the image of demureness except for her fingers’ boldness. “Just inspecting my new property, husband. It’s remarkably fine.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m glad to hear it receives your approval, sweetheart.”

Seconds later, he faced her without a stitch on. “Still satisfactory, wife?”

“Very much so. Very much indeed.” She rested her hand on his belly, then delicately slid her fingers up the thin line of hair to his chest.

His cock, already erect, jerked and grew still more. A single drop glistened on its tip, then slid down toward his aching balls. He sucked in his breath.

She purred and kissed his hip. “Beautiful.”

“Temptress,” he retorted, and automatically started to reach for a condom.

Then he froze, shocked by a new idea: he had no need for any of those tonight. For the first time in his life, his cock would feel a woman’s pussy and not a man-made contraption designed to prevent pregnancy and disease.

“What is it?” Viola whispered. “Why did you stop?”

“I don’t need a condom.” His voice was rough and his hands shook slightly.

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“My cock has never touched a woman’s pussy before. There’s always been a condom over it.”

“I’m your first?”

He nodded. “Perhaps I’m the virgin tonight.”

She blinked, then smiled slowly. Female triumph lit her eyes. “Oh,
mo mhùirnìn,
tonight is the beginning of both our lives. And you are taking entirely too much time.”

He chuckled hoarsely as he rejoined her on the bed. He moved faster this time to remove her clothes until she could meet him, bare skin to bare skin. Their mouths fused as his hand delved between her legs.

She was rich with dew, her sweet folds gliding over his fingers. Her clit stood proudly free of its hood, and ripe for carnal fulfillment as her musk scented the air. He tested her opening with one finger, then two, then three.

His balls were heavy, aching for her warmth. His skin was hot and tight, as if desperate to burst.

Viola shuddered with eagerness as her channel quivered. The hard peaks of her nipples stabbed his chest.

He took his cock in a shaking hand and brought it to her. He growled as her wetness flowed over him and seeped into his pores. Words utterly failed him.

He rubbed himself over her pussy, as his most sensitive flesh discovered every contour and texture of her. His cock swelled and his balls tightened further until he thought the feel of her would drive him insane.

She moaned and her head fell back. Her body writhed as her hips circled, seeking to bring him closer.

He entered her slowly, shuddering as he fought for discipline. Some distant corner of his brain suggested he should take his time and explore every nuance of her sweet pussy. But the pulse building at the base of his spine and in his cock was more urgent and demanding.

“William, ah, dear heart,” she groaned.

“Dear God, Viola,” he growled at the needy sound of her voice. His control snapped and he roared his intense pleasure as his cock surged into her. He lay still for a short moment, with every fraction of his cock tightly embraced by her hot channel, and a few shudders rising up his body from where they were joined. He’d never felt the kiss of a woman’s pussy hair against his balls like this, without a ribbon or condom between them.

“Mo cheannsa,”
he groaned, a statement of possession and love for all eternity.

Then his hips began to move.

He rode her with the passion of a lifetime, driving in and out of her like a madman. Blood pounded through him as its beat echoed in bone and sinew.

She wrapped herself around him with her legs snug around his hips. She sobbed and gasped and arched into his every movement. Her pussy stretched to hold him as it overflowed with dew in welcome. The muscles he’d trained tightened around his cock on every thrust. Wet slaps echoed through the room as their bodies worked together.

Viola clawed his back as she surged up against him. She keened her pleasure as rapture burst through her. Her pussy rippled and convulsed around him.

Her ecstasy ripped him free of his last tie to earth.

Orgasm shot through his cock and up his spine, shaking him until he went blind from wonder. He howled in ecstasy as he poured his seed into her.

Sometime later, he woke enough to pull a sheet over them both. She muttered and buried her face against his chest, rejecting any reminder of the outside world.

He kissed the top of her head. “Love you, wife.”

“Love you, too, husband.”

Fort McMillan, the Golconda Mine in Arizona, and the town of Rio Piedras are entirely fictional creations, although I have tried to be as accurate as possible. All errors are strictly my doing.

A list of textual sources is available on my website at www.dianewhiteside.com.

If you loved this Diane Whiteside book,
don’t miss her other books,
available from Brava!

Devilish temptation is just around the corner…

N
othing she’d heard or done before had prepared her for her lover feasting on her like a fruit sorbet. Especially when he was blatantly aroused and the clock suggested only a few minutes had passed since he’d so magnificently spent himself.

Rosalind moaned at one particularly devilish swirl of his tongue. And found herself wondering if she’d be able to walk in the morning, given this man’s evident appetites.

It was a very long time, more filled with rapture than she’d have deemed possible, before his mouth moved up her body. When he finally let sleep claim her, she did so restlessly, made uneasy by her first time sharing a bed with a man. She tossed and turned, slipping in and out of dreams. Then the nightmare returned, sending her back to her guardian’s yacht on the afternoon everything changed….