Counterfeit Kisses

by Cora York

  What did I have to do? Beg him again, because if that’s what it took, I would gladly get on my knees.

  He made his way up my body and finally—finally—latched onto one of my nipples, drawing the tight bud into his mouth. He sucked and swirled his tongue, driving me wild. The warmth of his mouth on my breast mixed with the cold air drifting in from the open window chased goosebumps around my skin.

  I scraped my hands through his hair and guided his mouth to my other nipple. Bliss. Pure, heavenly bliss. To add to my pleasure even more, he lowered a hand between my legs and pressed his fingertips against my clit.

  My back curved, pushing my pelvis into his touch, asking for more. The slightest pressure from his fingers was as powerful as a hundred volts, but then he moved away.

  “Don’t stop. Please.” And there it was, I was begging.

  “I don’t plan to.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and lowered them to the floor before kicking them off along with his sneakers.

  Lord in heaven. If I’d known about how delicious the sight of his naked body would be, I’d have ripped his clothes off a lot sooner.

  “Get over here.”

  He chuckled softly. “Bossy, aren’t you.”

  “Only when I have to be.”

  I reached out and loosely curled my hand around his impressive erection and stroked from root to tip and back again. He uttered a curse beneath his breath. Now it was my turn to tease and torture him.

  “I like how you feel in my hand.”

  “I love how I feel in your hand,” he said, his voice raspy.

  “Then you’ll love how you feel in my mouth even more.” I dropped to my knees and flicked the tip of my tongue over the tip of his cock, tasting the drop of precum beading there.

  “Christ.” Keegan flexed his hips and groaned. I licked the underside of his shaft, tracing the tip of my tongue up and down.

  “You taste even better than you smell.”

  He gazed down. His eyes hooded and glassy. “Keep tasting.”

  “I think I will.” I sucked him deep, corkscrewing my tongue around, and dug my nails into his thighs hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks.

  He wrapped my hair around his fist and tugged. “You were right. I do love how I feel in your mouth.”

  I hummed my reply and continued to suck, running my hands up and down and around his legs, grabbing his ass, cupping his balls. Lust pulsed through me. The desire tingling my skin tensed my muscles and demanded a body-melting, heart-stopping orgasm.

  I looked up. He watched me intently.

  I tugged his balls and was rewarded with a groan. “You have no idea how sexy it is watching you suck me off. But if you don’t stop, this’ll be over way too soon.” He eased out of my mouth, curled his fingers around his shaft, and tapped the head off my lips. I ached to feel his cock hit off my nipples, my clit, to have him drag the tip all over my skin.

  “Lay on the bed and spread your legs,” he instructed.

  “Who’s being bossy now?” I lay down and did what he asked.

  He massaged his hands up my legs and swiped his thumbs over the sensitive skin at the V of my thighs. “Perfect.”

  I laughed. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “I more than approve.” He leaned over and splayed a hand on the mattress by my shoulder, and slowly lowered his mouth to the center of my breasts. My nipples drew tighter. My breathing faster.

  Wanting.

  Waiting.

  Aching.

  He molded a hand around my breast and caressed and kneaded. My pulse thundered, and a fever scorched my skin, bathing me in a light sheen of sweat.

  The pillow barricade had been a big mistake. One I would never repeat. Tonight, nothing would separate us, and when the fire in the hearth smoldered and died, we would create our own heat beneath the covers.

  He moved his hand lower and cupped my mound, the heel of his hand massaging my swollen clit, his fingertips stroking my slick folds. I writhed and squirmed beneath his touch, and when he slipped two fingers inside me, the room spun, and a fog of desire filled my brain. Nothing else mattered or existed. Not Shane. Not Barb. Not Violet.

  “You want more?” he asked, moving his fingers slowly, agonizingly.

  “I want to feel your skin on mine.” Unafraid to show him what I wanted, I slowly rode his fingers, flexing my hips, bowing my back.

  “Soon.” Over and over, he eased his fingers from me and circled them around my entrance. A gasp fell from my lips, and I arched my body, doing my best to force him to go deeper, harder. “Ready to feel me inside you?”

  “God, yes, so ready. I’ve never been more ready.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry. Not yet.”

  “I hate you.” And at that moment, I might have meant it.

  Using the pad of his thumb, he traced small concentric circles around my clit. The waves of my orgasm built slow and steady, gaining strength and intensity with every rotation of his thumb. But I didn’t want to come. Not yet. I wanted to feel my walls clamp around his cock. Feel the weight of his body pressing down on mine.

  “I need to taste you,” he said.

  I grinned. “Since I tasted you, I guess it’s only fair.” I balanced myself on my forearms and watched as he settled himself between my spread thighs.

  The second his tongue touched my clit, I cried out.

  He clamped his lips over the sensitive nub, scraping the edge of his teeth against me, bringing me to the brink but not allowing me to fall no matter how much my body strained and twisted.

  The sheer relief of having his hot mouth on me was like something I’d waited for my entire life but didn’t know I had until now.

  He feasted on me. Explored me. Devoured me.

  “You taste like sin. I could do this all day.” He lashed the tip of his tongue back and forth and around and around.

  I curled my fingers through his hair and held him close, allowing him no escape, and even though I knew he could overpower me if he wanted to, my body demanded I take what I needed.

  Instinctively, my hips rocked, searching, seeking, needing. He eased a finger and then another into me, curling them, twisting them, pressing them against my engorged walls. My hips picked up speed, and his fingers matched their pace, feeding the flames of my oncoming orgasm. I dug my fingers into his scalp and sucked in a sharp breath, and in a flash of light, an explosive climax obliterated me.

  My cries echoed around the room, drowning out everything else. I wanted to kiss him, taste him, share in the pleasure he’d given me.

  With his fingers still inside my swollen channel, he moved up my body and smashed his lips to mine. There was desperation in the way he kissed. It was raw and messy, hard and soft, demanding and tender.

  He eased his fingers out, wrenching a moan of protest from my soul.

  “Don’t stop.” I clamped my legs around his waist, pressing my feet into his lower back, urging him to take me.

  “I’m not.” The blunt tip of his cock hit off my clit, and another set of fluttering spasms wracked my body. “I love watching you come. I want to see it again and again.”

  I ran the tip of my tongue over his lips, and whether he liked it or not, the wait was over. “Condom? Please tell me you have a condom.”

  “A Boy Scout is always prepared.”

  “If you’re a Boy Scout, I’m Mother Theresa.”

  He gave a slight laugh, then rolled his warm body off me, scooped up his jeans, and fished through the back pockets. With a smile, he produced a small purple square.

  “Looks like you were expecting to get lucky.”

  “Hopeful.”

  He ripped the packet open and sheathed himself.

  “Get over here.” I reached out with my toes and curled them around his thighs, pulling him between my legs.

  “There you go being bossy again,” he said.

  “I know what I want, and I want you.”

  “What if I said I want to wait a while longer?”

  “
I’d say you were a liar.”

  “I’d say you were right.” Laughing, he curled his hands beneath my knees and pulled me forward until the head of his cock lined up with my entrance.

  As if trying to entice him in, my inner muscles contracted and rippled. I needed him to take me now, but he didn’t. Instead, he slowly worked the broad head of his cock in a few inches before stopping.

  A few beats later, he pulled out before re-entering, going a little further, stretching a little wider. He pushed deeper, and we both cried out, but he kept his thrusts painfully slow and controlled.

  I dug my heels into his ass, imploring him to hurry up, to take me the way I needed, but he ignored my soundless plea and continued to take his sweet damn time with slow, steady, and restrained thrusts.

  I’d had enough of his teasing. It was like he was testing me. Seeing how far he could push me before I lost control. Later, when we’d taken the edge off, we could make leisurely love all night, but now wasn’t the time.

  If he wasn’t going to do anything to give me another orgasm, I’d take care of it myself. Reaching between us, I swept my fingers over my still sensitive and swollen clit.

  “Fuck, Tessa.”

  I grinned wickedly, tilted my hips, and circled my fingers around and around. “Exactly my thoughts, fuck Tessa.”

  Keegan sucked in a breath. His hooded eyes watched me as if mesmerized by the hypnotic movements of my fingers.

  His muscles tensed and corded, and he clamped his hands around my hips. He was as ready as I was. On a groan, he pushed deep, his thick cock filling me to the hilt. When he began to move, I met every one of his hungry, needy thrusts.

  My breath became labored and wave after delicious wave bathed my sweat-slicked skin.

  Pressure gathered inside of me seeking a way out. My back arched and my hips bucked. My channel tightened around his thickness, and my inner walls pulsed and gripped him.

  I didn’t hide my enjoyment and allowed the sounds of my second, more powerful orgasm to spill from my lips. So much overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure showered over me.

  His once measured thrusts became wild and unrestrained.

  The need to come contorted his face. Groans and curses fell from his lips as he drove into me like a man possessed. He threw his head back and gave a soul-shattering groan. And with one final brutal thrust, he released my hips and flopped on top of me, kissing me as if he needed my breath to live.

  After a few seconds of stillness, he eased himself up and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

  My heart thundered, and my body fought to get its equilibrium back. Never had the first time with someone been like that. Fun and lighthearted, and toe-curlingly sexy. It was everything I’d needed and more. A few more days of sex like that? Yes, please.

  Keegan rejoined me in the bedroom and grabbed his clothes. Something wasn’t right. His eyes were cold and distant. Concerned, I sat up and reached for my discarded underwear. “What’s the hurry? Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s perfect. Great.” The tone in his words and his jerky movements told me everything was anything but perfect or great.

  “There’s still lots to do.”

  “I’ll finish the rooms tomorrow,” I said with a languorous stretch. “Right now, I want to go to our room and continue what we started here, and I’ll let you tease me as much as you want.”

  “Plenty of time for that later.” He scooped up my clothes and set them on the bed. “Better get dressed. If we’re going to keep going all night, we need some grub for fuel.”

  “All night? Think you can keep up?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  Even though he’d used all the right words, and smiled at the right times, it was like he couldn’t wait to get out of the room and away from me.

  Confused and more than a little disheartened, I put on my clothes. By the time I’d dressed, Keegan had disappeared.

  And once again, I’d let a sexy Irishman make a fool out of me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Keegan

  I strode down the hallway. The walls closed in. Suffocating me. A woman hadn’t had this effect on me since Grace.

  I needed air. Needed to get away. Needed to think. My feelings for Tessa were growing into something more than I could handle. Something more than I wanted. If I was merely passing the time, why did my heartbeat triple whenever she was near? Why did my hands ache to hold her, stroke her? Hell, I could even tell when she walked into the room. I’d allowed my cock to control my brain.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. But it was too late. My heart had put blinkers and earmuffs on. My body craved only her.

  The phone clasped in my hand vibrated. I glanced down. A blocked number. Only one person would call me from a blocked number. Shane Gorman. Perfect fucking timing.

  I answered. “You’re a gobshite. What’s your game, Gorman?”

  Shane chuckled. “How’s the beautiful Tessa? I believe the two of you are playing happy families.”

  “You’re nothing but a bastard. Still up to your old games, I see. Bleeding people dry.”

  “Revenge is a bitch, isn’t it?”

  I laughed, but it was cold and humorless. “Unbelievable. This is about your nose? You set this whole thing up because of something that happened years ago?”

  “Not all of it. But when I saw your name in her emails, I couldn’t resist. I knew you’d be fuming that someone got what you wanted. Not used to losing, are you?”

  “You’re lucky your nose was all I broke. If my brothers hadn’t held me back, you’d be six feet under now.”

  “Temper. Temper. Simmer down.”

  “Stay away from me and stay away from Tessa.”

  “Or wha’?”

  “Don’t push me.”

  “I have a proposition for you. Could make both of us some cash.”

  “Save your breath. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” Blood pulsed through my skull. I should’ve known. This was all about money.

  “I think you do. A hundred grand in my bank account by the end of the day and cameras in every room. If not, the papers will hear everything. How you and Tessa came up with a story to extort one of the world’s biggest movie stars.”

  “What proof do you have?”

  “Enough.”

  It’d be a cold day in hell before I did anything the lowlife wanted, but for now, I would play along, call his bluff.

  “If I do what you want, you’ll disappear? Leave Tessa alone?”

  Silence crackled over the line.

  “I need your word, Gorman.”

  “You have my word.” Shane’s word was as transparent as a tissue that had landed in a puddle. “I’ll email you where to wire the money and where you can pick up the equipment.”

  “You come to me.”

  “No deal. Wire the money and come pick everything up, or I’ll call one of me journalist friends right now.”

  Shane was goading me. Trying to scare me.

  “What will a journalist give you? A couple of hundred. If you’re lucky. And I know you’re not far from here. You always keep an eye on your marks. You come here.”

  I could almost hear the wheels turning in Shane’s head. He must be up to his eyes in debt and trouble if he was considering coming anywhere near me.

  “Tomorrow morning. Eleven.” There was a pause. “No funny business. I’ll text you when I’m on the way. Have my money.”

  “I’ll wire you the money when I have it in writing you’ll walk away.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  The bastard hung up.

  I would call my cousin Niall, have him here when Shane showed up. But I wouldn’t say a word to Tessa. She had enough going on. Keeping my relationship with Gorman a secret was for the best. What a fucking mess. I should never have left New York. I slapped my palm against the wall so hard it stung.

  “You two have another lover’s tiff?” Barb asked from behind me, her words slurred.<
br />
  I turned to face her. Max, who she carried like a baby in the crook of her arm, wore a black bow tie and gazed up adoringly.

  “Not at all. Everything’s fine. You look a little unsteady there. Need some help getting back to your room?” And wine.

  “We need food, don’t we, Maxie Moo?” She lifted the dog until they were eye to eye. “My stomach’s ready to cannibalize itself. Be a gent and help us down these damnable stairs. Don’t want to fall and crack my skull open.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Barb hooked her arm around mine and clung on like a limpet.

  “Have you talked to Violet ?” I asked. “Does she know about the weather situation?”

  “Oh, she knows. Let’s just say she’s not happy. Not happy at all. If she’s not happy. I’m not happy. And that means no one will be happy.”

  In the kitchen, the mouth-watering smell of simmering soup and freshly baked bread caught my nostrils and pulled me toward the stove. Brendan dozed on a chair by the blazing fire, blissfully unaware a con man demanded I plant secret cameras in every room and ruin the castle’s reputation.

  I wouldn’t let that happen, and I would do everything I could to stop Shane from destroying Tessa and Brendan.

  “Smells divine.” Barb inhaled deeply.

  Brendan jumped up, his eyes befuddled with sleep. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you come down.”

  “You made this?” Barb lifted the lid from the soup pot and inhaled deeply.

  “That I did,” Brendan replied with a smile. “Tomato and basil.”

  She scrunched up her nose and placed Max on the floor. “Won’t poison us, will it?”

  I ladled out two creamy bowls and pushed one toward Barb. “Brendan used to be one of the best-known chefs in Ireland.” I tore off a hunk of crusty bread and dunked it into my soup.

  Brendan blushed and then turned his face toward the fire. “A lifetime ago. Sure, this is just a drop of soup.”

  With an unsteady hand, Barb lifted a spoon to her mouth, slurped, then swallowed. “Nectar of the Gods. Don’t think I’ve had better.” She moaned in delight and took another spoonful. “Seems you’re a man with many hidden talents, Mr. McCabe.”