It took an Irishman.
Maybe there was even a pot of gold somewhere around here.
Or could be that was between my legs.
I squeezed him so hard with my thighs that I had to admit if he survived, it was another miracle, but he didn’t complain, didn’t struggle.
The Five Points didn’t make a man a pussy, he just rode it out with me, through me, helping me realize what it was about Aidan that I’d always appreciated. That, even though I barely knew him, I’d recognized inside him.
He was a force to be reckoned with.
An earthquake inside a hurricane.
No matter what I threw at him, he’d never break. He’d never bend. He’d always take it.
And I needed that kind of fortitude.
I’d always needed that.
He wouldn’t disintegrate into a million pieces if I got sassy, if I revealed that I didn’t agree with him, nor would he be disgusted if I admitted that the things he did intrigued me. He’d stay the course, butting heads with me every fucking time. Not letting me get away with shit.
It was why I’d mourned him, I realized now.
I’d known what we could have together. How perfect we’d fit one another.
Before I could come down entirely, I felt him thrust into me. It was what had me opening my eyes to look down where we were now joined. I saw that had his attention too. Him so goddamn thick and long, and me just conceding defeat to all those delicious inches.
Sex had never felt like a surrender, but right now? It felt like the best kind of forfeit. I’d acquiesce to any-damn-thing he wanted if he just wouldn’t stop.
"I’m not stopping. I’m not going anywhere," he growled, making me realize I’d pleaded with him out loud. "This is my pussy," he snarled, and didn’t I just melt into the massage table beneath me? "No fucker else is going to fill it but me, do you hear me?"
My eyes narrowed, tunneling into slits, and though I was probably insane, I snapped, "Takes more than one orgasm to stake a claim on me."
He made a growling noise, like some kind of beast, and I moaned at the loss of his control. As much as I loved his stalwart nature, I wanted nothing more than for him to feel as out of control as me. Why should I be the only one lost to the maelstrom? Where was the fairness in that?
Aidan grabbed my legs, hauling them high against his chest, not stopping until they were flat against his torso. The move sent him even deeper inside me, until I felt like his dick was butting my gag reflex from upside down. Then, he parted them again, making me realize he was shifting around to accommodate his bum leg, and he moved even closer, popping between them so one of my feet was on either side of his head.
Was I surprised when one hand dropped down to my pussy, and his thumb went to my clit? Nope. Did I get why he rested the other hand on my shoulder? No. Did I howl again, in pain this time, when he clamped down on my calf and bit down? Yes.
I didn’t try to pull away though. Just tried not to fall off the massage table.
I squirmed against him, needing to get closer, needing all of him to be inside me, and that was when he started to drive his hips into me.
"Oh, God," I cried out as he moved hard and fast, dragging me into him with the handhold he had on my shoulder.
He invaded every inch as he impaled me on his cock over and over again. Highly sensitized flesh quivered as he raked them over the coals, not stopping now he’d started.
He growled, tension overtaking the pair of us as he started to rub my clit in earnest, hard enough to make me squeal but not so much that I felt like he was trying to detach it from my body, and when I screamed out my orgasm minutes, hours, weeks later, he wasn’t long behind me.
As he pumped his cum into me, endlessly, tirelessly, I swore to God I felt the heat of him as he filled me full, and I knew, no matter what, as I soared to that glittery dark place again with leprechauns and rainbows and frickin’ unicorns, that I’d fight to get back here again.
I’d lock horns with this stubborn, stubborn man, because an orgasm like this was worth fighting for.
As was, of course, the man himself.
Whether he believed it or not.