Page 16 of Irish Throne

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Now, in the bustling airport, we quickly collect our bags and head for where a private rented car is waiting for us. The lights of Tokyo glow as we drive through it, headed out to the resort where Connor and I will spend the next two days.

We’re greeted politely, checked in, and taken to our room, which has a glorious view of Fuji National Park. There’s a private open-air onsen on the terrace, made of cool grey stone, and cushioned seating all around. I can see the steam rising off of it, wreathing in the air, and when I glance back, Connor is looking at me speculatively.

“Is this what you were talking about?” he asks, a small smile playing on his lips, and I shiver at the memory of the last time he had me in a pool of any kind.

“The main onsen downstairs can be reserved with a private bartender,” I tell him, turning to face him as he approaches. “I set that up for tomorrow night.”

“Oh?” Connor raises an eyebrow. “Then what about right now?”

His hands are sliding the cardigan off my shoulders, letting the soft fabric drop to the floor as his fingers drop to the hem of my shirt, slipping over my smooth bare skin to my silky bra underneath. “I liked it better when you weren’t wearing one of these,” he murmurs. “I think it needs to go.”

I moan softly as his hands squeeze, pulling down the cups and seeking out my sensitive nipples. His touch always feels so good, and I lean into it, tipping my head back as his mouth finds my throat.

“Connor—” I whisper his name as his teeth graze my collarbone, his hands and mouth driving me crazy without having taken a stitch of clothing off yet. His tongue dips into the hollow of my throat, lips brushing over my skin, fingers pinching my nipples as I arch forward, gasping with pleasure.

“I’ve always loved how responsive you are for me,” he murmurs, dragging my shirt over my head and tossing it aside as he reaches for the clasp of my bra. “From the very first night. Remember the elevator, Saoirse?”

“How could I forget?” I manage, nearly panting as he deftly unhooks my bra, sliding the straps down my shoulders and bringing his palms around to cup my breasts as it falls away. “You were the first person to ever give me an orgasm.”

“I’ve been the first for everything,” he growls, his fingers slipping into the waist of my leggings as his lips brush over mine. “I thought that I would hate that.”

“You did?” I look up at him, blinking with confusion. “I thought all men wanted virgins.”

“Maybe some do.” Connor nips at my lower lip, sucking it lightly into his mouth. “But I thought it would be boring and awkward. I liked experienced women. And then I met you.”

“Oh?” My heart is hammering in my chest. This is more than Connor has ever admitted to me, more than he’s said. I feel shaky and unsteady, wondering what will come out of his mouth next, what he’ll reveal that he’s felt all this time that I didn’t know.

Maybe this trip was a better idea than even I realized.

“Every time we’ve touched, Saoirse, it’s been explosive. We drive each other mad, and sometimes I think we both want to kill the other—but it’s been anything but boring. Anything but awkward.”

“You said the desire would go away after—” I bite my lower lip, feeling the faint soreness where he nipped it a second ago, and I see his eyes flick to my mouth. “Why hasn’t it? It’s been weeks—”

Connor’s eyes slide back up to mine, blue and heated. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice a hoarse growl, and then his hands grip the fabric of my leggings, yanking them and my leggings down in one swift jerk as his mouth crushes against mine.

Oh god.Helpless pleasure washes over me, my hips arching against his, seeking out the solid heat of him as I bunch my hands in his t-shirt, dragging it up and over his head between kisses. We stumble backward through the room, over the rush flooring as I yank down his joggers, my hand brushing against the throbbing, rigid length of his cock. He keeps backing me up all the way until my calves bump against the cool stone of the onsen, and then he cups his palms over my shoulders, pushing me down, so I’m seated on the edge.

His eyes never leave mine for a second as he sinks to his knees, his hands sliding up my inner thighs as he spreads them apart. I gasp at the sensation of his fingers on my sensitive flesh, remembering our wedding night when he set me on the edge of the bed and knelt down for me just like this.

“Connor—” I whisper his name, the word turning to a breathless gasp as his lips press to the inside of my thigh, dragging higher. His thumbs press into the flesh of my thighs, holding me open firmly, and when his tongue drags over the swollen folds of my pussy, I can’t help the moan that slips out.

“I love when you make that sound,” he rumbles, his words vibrating against my skin and making my hips roll up, seeking more of his mouth, his tongue. But he holds me firmly against the stone, preventing me from moving at all as he teases me with the tip of his tongue, tracing my outer folds until my clit is throbbing from neglect, and I’m ready to beg him for more.

He looks so fucking gorgeous, kneeling there between my thighs, his auburn hair messy, entirely naked. I catch a glimpse of his cock, still rock-hard despite not being touched, and it sends another flood of pleasure through me to know that this is turning him on—that touching me, tasting me, makes him this aroused.

His tongue pushes between my folds, trailing upwards, and I’m so fucking wet. My hands curl against the stone, gripping the edges as Connor lazily makes his way towards my clit, his tongue seemingly determined to seek out every inch of my pussy before licking me where I need it the most. I gasp and writhe, but his hands hold me still until finally, he flicks the tip of his tongue over my pulsing clit, and I nearly scream with pleasure and relief.

“God, yes,” Connor groans, his words muffled as his lips press down around my clit, and he sucks the sensitive flesh into his mouth.

I’ve never felt anything like the way Connor eats me out. He sucks and licks my clit at the same time, rolling it in his mouth, pulling at the sensitive nub as his tongue works beneath it, and I feel as if I’m going insane with pleasure. I want to buck, writhe, grind against his tongue, but he holds me still. All I can do is tangle one hand in his hair, holding him tightly against my pussy as I cry out with the most intense pleasure of my entire life.

My back arches as I come, his assault on my clit the exact opposite of the teasing way he started out, my moans loud and shameless. I don’t care if everyone in the fucking resort hears me. “Fuck, Connor, Connor—” I moan his name over and over as he keeps licking and sucking, until I’m so sensitive that I push his head away with both hands.

He stands up, looking down at me with a wicked heat in his eyes and a smirk on his face, his tongue running over his lower lip and his cock still fully erect, brushing his muscled abdomen. “In the water,” Connor says in a husky voice, and there’s not a single part of me that wants to argue.

I slip into the steaming water, sucking in a breath at the soothing heat of it, and Connor steps in beside me. Just beyond us is a glorious view of the national park at night, the full moon hanging high and heavy in the sky, and stars scattered across the sky like diamond dust. “You don’t get a view like that in Boston,” Connor says softly, and I nod wordlessly, momentarily distracted and speechless from the beauty of it.

I turn to face him, only to see him leaning back in the pool, his arms draped over the stone, his cock visible above the water. He eyes me as if he’s wondering what I’ll do without him giving me orders, but I already know.


Tags: M. James Thriller