Page 53 of Irish Princess

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Connor throws my bra aside, his hand palming my breast as he drags my mouth down to his again, kissing me with a ferocity like nothing I’ve felt from him before. He bites my lower lip as he sucks it into his mouth, making me gasp and moan, and when my hips rock down against him he groans aloud.

In one swift motion, he grabs my hips, rolling me onto my back on the thick rug, naked except for my panties. In the glow of the city lights he looks dark, dangerous, his hair falling into his face and his blue eyes gleaming at me with drunken, needy lust. His hands grab my panties roughly, dragging them down, and for a second I think he’s going to ruin two pairs in one day, but these he gets off in one piece.

“I want to taste your pussy,” he murmurs, one hand cupping my breast, molding it, teasing my nipple. “I want to kiss every inch of you, explore—” His mouth hungrily sucks at the curve of my waist, licking, running his tongue over the ridge of my ribs, as if he truly wants to touch and taste every inch of me, not just the erogenous ones. His thumb plays with the nipple of one breast as his mouth sucks at the flesh of the other—the side, just beneath, softly first and then harder, until I’m sure there will be a mark tomorrow.

It feels so fucking good, though. Everywhere he touches, everywhere his mouth goes, feels sensitized a hundred times over, as if my skin comes alive underneath him. I’m drenched, so wet that I can feel it, my thighs sticky, my hips arching uselessly up with the need for more as he runs his tongue between my breasts, grasping them in both hands and pinching my nipples roughly as he kisses down my belly.

“So beautiful,” he rasps. “You should be pleasured constantly, Saoirse. Every day. Every moment. The way you come alive when I touch you—”

I want to shut out the things he’s saying.He doesn’t mean them, I tell myself, because I know he’s drunk. Tomorrow he’ll deny it, if he even remembers it. It truly feels as if another man wearing Connor’s face is touching me, and I can’t bring myself to tell him no, even as I know I’m driving another stake into my heart, because I want him so badly. Because it feels so good.

His hands slide down my waist as he kisses just above my pussy, the heat between my legs intensifying as I arch up for his mouth, my thighs splaying open. “Do you want me to eat this sweet pussy?” he asks, his voice deep and rasping, and I nod breathlessly.

“Yes, Connor, oh god—”

He slaps the inside of my thigh lightly, kissing it where it stings. “Not Connor,” he slurs. “William.”

Okay, I can play this game.Tonight he’s drunk, and William. It feels almost liberating to play along with it, as if none of this matters, none of it can hurt, because it’s not him. I don’t even have to act the way I would with Connor. I can say what I want, do what I want, and we can lose ourselves in each other.

It’s all I’ve wanted since that first night.

“Yes, William,” I breathe. “Please eat my pussy. I need it.”

Idoneed it. I feel as if I’m going to combust, explode with need, my body aching to my core as he spreads my thighs wider, cups my ass, raising me to his mouth like a drink to be savored as he runs his tongue over my swollen folds, parting them, going deeper. His tongue pushes inside of me for a moment, curling, thrusting like a small cock, and then slides higher to where I need it most. He licks my clit, softly first and then faster, and I cry out, rocking against his mouth as I take everything he has to offer.

“Yes,” I moan, my fingers running helplessly through the long fur of the rug. “Lick me, William, please. Please, make me come. Please—”

I’d been so aroused after I left Niall, teased and kissed to madness, but I’m not thinking of Niall now. There’s only the auburn-haired man between my thighs, licking my pussy, nibbling at my folds and sucking them into his mouth as he pushes his tongue into me again, sucking on my clit and laving it with his tongue until I’m moaning, screaming, crying out—and coming.

I come hard on his face, on his tongue rubbing against me, my arousal flooding his mouth as I grind and writhe and cry out, not bothering to try to mute my sounds of ecstatic pleasure.

And he doesn’t stop there.

He squeezes my ass, and then before I can so much as suck in a breath, he flips me over onto my stomach, his hands smoothing over my hips and my ass again before he spreads me, his lips grazing the curve of one ass cheek as he groans.

I don’t realize what he’s going to do at first. His tongue laps at my pussy again, and I arch up, pushing helplessly into his face as the new angle gives me a different sensation, different pleasure. He pushes his tongue down onto my clit, slides it back up over my folds to my entrance—and then higher.

I let out a gasp of shock as his tongue circles my asshole, lapping at the tight ring of muscle, spreading my arousal there as he licks it. It’s a strange sort of pleasure, and my pussy aches as I push back against him, feeling his tongue pressing against my hole as I wriggle with surprised need.

“That’s my slutty little princess,” Connor moans appreciatively, not a hint of derision in his voice. “Do you want to come while I lick your asshole, Saoirse?”

“Yes,” I gasp, feeling my clit throb, my pussy clenching even though I just came, needing more. “Make me come, William please—I want more—”

He reaches down, rubbing my clit with his fingers as he tongues my asshole, lapping and circling as I moan and writhe, grinding against his hand. I can feel the pleasure spreading through me, and I know I’m going to come again. I want everything then, all of him, hands and mouth and cock anywhere he wants to give it to me, and I arch backwards shamelessly, feeling him tongue my asshole as he rubs my clit fiercely, and when the orgasm crashes over me I think I see stars.

The soft rug rubs against my breasts as I collapse onto it, shuddering and trembling with the force of the pleasure spreading through me, and I feel Connor turning me over, leaning down to kiss my neck as I tear at the buttons of his shirt.

His hands are on his belt as I rip his shirt open, my fingers skating down the muscled expanse of his chest, pulling him closer as he kicks off his pants. I feel as if I can’t be entirely satisfied until he’s as naked as I am, until we’re skin to skin, and when he’s finally as bare to me as I am to him I pull him down, capturing his mouth with mine as his cockhead pushes against my entrance.

I’m tight, squeezing around him as he pushes forward, but I’m so wet that he slips in more easily than before. His hips rock into me as I lock my legs around them, pulling him deeper, closer, and I run my fingers through his hair as he moans against my lips.

“You feel so good,” I whisper, arching upwards so that he sinks that last bit inside, pressed against me as tightly as he can be, our bodies locked together. “Connor—”

“William,” he groans. “I want to be William tonight. I want to fuck you—”

“Then do it.” I urge him on, kissing him fiercely. “Fuck me.”

He starts to thrust, hard and powerful, slamming into the depths of me as I cling to him, and I lean up, sucking at the side of his neck as he groans. I’m hit with a sudden fierce desire to mark him too, to remind him of tonight so that he can’t deny it.


Tags: M. James Billionaire Romance