His blood thundered as he lowered her down until she was half sitting on his thighs, half pressed to the wall, the length of his erection hard between them, her legs dangling on either side. Relentless, animalistic, furious, they grappled together at the ribbons banding the sides of her gown, loosening them enough for him to yank down the top and expose a pale, heavy breast.
Time slowed. The room fell silent but for his slow breath, and her swift pants, then he scooped the heavy silken weight of breast into his calloused hand.
Her head dropped back and her lips parted to release a long, hot pant.
Then, like some goddess of desire, she pressed her shoulders back to the wall and arched for him, pushing her hips down into his erection, tilting her breasts up like a sacrifice, her eyes passion-bright, her lips kiss-swollen, her hair tousled around her flushed face.
He skimmed the edge of his thumb over the dark, ruched nipple then bent and closed his mouth over it. She gave a broken gasp, and another blinding wave of lust smashed into him as her body bucked against the wall.
“Move on me, lass,” he said in a rough voice. “Feel me.”
She did, pulled herself away from the wall in a heavy, languid move, and holding onto his shoulders, rocked her hips. He leaned in to her neck and licked the sweaty salt off her hot skin, then nipped her, a sharp, not-at-all-gentle bite. Another hot gasp ripped through her body. Her body jerked, then she tipped her head to the side, offering for him again.
He took her, suckled her flesh in his mouth as he leaned forward and planted a hand on the wall beside her head. He skimmed the other hand down her leg and dragged up her skirts.
Mouth still on her neck, he spread his hand overtop her bare thigh and slid up, his thumb tracing the silken-soft skin of her inner thigh, his fingers cupping the outside, until he encountered wet heat.
Her inner thighs were slick, drenched with feminine desire.
He pushed his thumb down into the hot, tight space between them. Her head fell back to the wall, so only the wall and his thighs supported her. She stretched out an arm and laid a wrist limply on his shoulder, barely holding on, her lips wet and parted, her hair spilling everywhere, her eyes heavy-lidded and locked on his. He overturned his hand and, without pause, slid a finger up inside her, pushing deep into the swelling tightness.
Her head flung back and hit the wall. “Oh, please.”
His body surged with the urge to take her, now, hard.
He stroked her again, two fingers this time, high and hard, and held them there while she keened, then he pumped them.
Her body bucked, and long rays of shudders moved through her. With a muffled curse, he lowered her to the ground, sliding her down the line of his erection until her toes hit the floor. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, pushing her gown up with the heels of his hands as he went.
She trembled before him. He reached up for her hand, forcing her fingers to curl around the hem. Their eyes met. Hers were hectic, hot, and heavy-lidded.
“Hold it up,” he commanded, his voice a rasp.
Her body jerked once, her head tipped back to the wall, and she did exactly as he bid. She closed her
fingers around her gown and held it up for him.
Body taut with restraint, his erection thick and thrusting, he brushed a testing fingertip across the glistening surface of her folds. She was slick, hot and swollen, ready for him. He skated his finger though the slipperiness in a tight, circular motion, testing her from top to bottom, her bared thighs trembling in front of him. Another sweep located what he sought, the slippery, swirling kernel at the apex of her. He pressed a fingertip to it, then skimmed away, hard and fast.
Her body shook between him and the wall.
Hot, slippery, musky, all female, she was perfection. He turned his face up and touched her with the tip of his tongue.
Soft, silvery, and broken like raindrops, her cries of pleasure almost sent him over the edge. Clamping down on the almost violent urge to fling her to the floor, spread her thighs and slake his lust, he slowly, very slowly, pushed two fingers up inside her as he swept his tongue deep into her folds.
Her body jerked with a sob and her head fell back to the wall, one hand still holding up her gown, the other now tangled in his hair. Her long hair fell all around them, spilling over the ties of her gown, in streamers over Tadhg’s shoulders. Hand pumping, blood pounding, he guided her legs further apart with a forearm, then, touching the back of her knee, bent it and hiked it up over his shoulder.
Her hips came out from the wall and she shifted for him, rebalancing herself, spreading her legs further.
Greedy now, he spread her apart with his thumbs and slicked his tongue across the pink, exposed flesh, circling slowly upward in sweeps, until she cried out, at which point he went more slowly yet, torturing her, brushing near the little nub but never touching it, until she was gasping more than breathing, until her gasps no longer resembled words, but were only desperate whimpers and whispers. Only then did he flick the tip of his tongue where she desired it, a hard, pressing tap.
A sob wracked her body, a sweet, broken sound.
As a reward, he sucked her into his mouth, grazing her with his teeth.
She screamed in a whisper and her knees began to buckle. He forced her to stand even yet, pressed an arm up the front of her belly and held her to the wall, held her there with firm intent as he laved her with slow, devoted, merciless strokes of tongue and hand.
Her head rolled against the wall and her staccato gasps of pleasure became long, low moans, and his own head roared with passion. Then her body stiffened and whipped hard between him and the wall, her fingers tightening with little jerks in his hair as she climaxed, a hard, rolling surge all around his fingers and tongue, crying out his name, over and over.