I feel myself go red. I’m not used to talking this way.
“It’s the first time a man has made me orgasm, full stop,” I tell him.
A slow smile spreads across his handsome face.
“You don’t mind?” I ask.
He laughs and runs the pad of his thumb across my lips.
“Mind? Keeley, I couldn’t be happier. I don’t want any other man to touch you...ever. You’re mine.”
I wonder if I should feel insulted at his presumption – not to mention the caveman like possessiveness – but instead it sends a thrill through me. If I’m honest with myself, it turns me on even more.
I reach for him, but he takes my hand.
“We’re not having sex tonight.” His voice is firm.
“We’re not?” Now I’m confused
He shakes his head. “We’re not. Not now that I know it will be your first time. I don’t want it to be some rushed affair, and on the back of tonight’s shenanigans...I want it to be special.”
Wow. I wasn’t expecting him to be a secret romantic. I feel myself smile, and indeed I can hardly believe it’s true. Not only does the sexiest man I’ve ever seen want to take my virginity, but he’s going to ‘make it special’ too.
Now, I’m really glad that my dad sent me to Ireland.
As soon as I think about my dad I wish I hadn’t. Talk about a buzz killer. He would be furious if he knew what was going on...no doubt he wants me to marry some rich lawyer or something, preferably one who will be terrified of him. But this is my life, I think defiantly. I’m sick of living in my family’s shadow. For the time that I’m here at least and I thoroughly intend to enjoy my freedom.
I don’t tell Brendan what I’m thinking. The last thing I want is for him to start feeling guilty and change his mind.
He leans down and kisses me again but softer this time, less hungrily. Then he kisses me lightly on the forehead.
“Get some sleep,” he says gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he zips his jeans back up and goes, leaving me staring after him, my thighs still sticky.
I shower in the little en suite and then pull my pajamas on. My body is still tingling from the orgasm and every time I think about what has just happened I grow hot. I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking about Brendan just down the hall from me.
But as soon as I slip between the sheets and lay my head on the pillow, I’m fast asleep.
I wake up disoriented, wondering for a minute where I am, aware that the sun is streaming through the window on to my face at an odd angle and the bed feels too hard to be mine.
Then in a flash I remember everything. Ireland. The fight in the bar. Brendan. Brendan kissing me...
I sit up, feeling flustered as I flash back to him between my legs last night, making me moan his name while that full mouth of his brought me to orgasm...I feel my face go hot at the thought and wonder how the hell I’m supposed to look at him over breakfast.
I take another shower, rubbing soap over my body and watching my nipples stiffen as I think about his hands and mouth on them. I get dressed, pulling on jeans that I know hug and lift my ass and a slightly low cut white top that just shows the tops of my breasts. Normally I would drag my hair on top of my head and not bother with make-up at this time in the morning but I want to look nice for Brendan. Nice, but not like I’m obviously trying to make an impression. I loosely comb the ends of my hair, dab on some blush and lip gloss and head downstairs, my tummy buzzing with butterflies at the thought of seeing him.
As I reach the next floor down I realize I don’t know where the main kitchen is. I’ve only really seen the bar and my bedroom so far. But the smell of frying bacon is a pretty good clue and so I follow it into a large, modern kitchen with a dining area. Brendan is at the stove with his back to me.
“Morning,” I say, trying to sound casual and failing I cringe as my voice comes out like a nervous squeak. He looks over his shoulder and gives me a heart-melting grin before turning back to the pan.
“Morning beautiful. Sit down, I’m cooking you up a proper Irish breakfast.”
“Sounds good.” I’m impressed. Mother hardly ever lets us have a fried breakfast either; everything is calorie counted and grilled and prepared by her personal chef. Whatever Brendan is cooking smells delicious.
After a few minutes he turns and puts a plate in front of me and at the delicious smell I realize how hungry I am.
“I’m never going to eat all this,” I say in disbelief. On the plate in front of me is bacon, sausage, eggs, three varieties of fried potatoes, tomatoes, mushrooms and some strange pale colored meat that I don’t recognize. And it all appears to have been fried in butter.
“Sorry,” he grins, sitting down opposite me with an even more heaped plate. “I’m used to cooking for Aiden and Cormac. Just eat what you can.”
“When are they coming back?” I ask, poking at the unfamiliar meat.
“That’s white pudding,” he tells me. “Try it. Aiden will be in the States for a couple of weeks, but Cormac should be back tomorrow or Monday. It’s far too quiet around here with them gone...but at least it gives us some time alone.” His eyes meet mine and the heat in them makes me blush. I turn my attention back to my breakfast.
It’s delicious, especially the white pudding, and I eat until I’m full, then Brendan makes me a strong coffee. I could definitely get used to this.
“What time does the bar open today?”
“Twelve. Saturday is our busiest afternoon...and night. But I’ve decided not to work tonight, the bar staff can cover.” He looks at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh? Do you have plans?”
“Well that depends on you,” he says. “I was thinking, as we have the house to ourselves...a film, a bottle of wine?”
“That sounds great,” I murmur. He grins again.
“I don’t really drink wine,” he admits, “but I thought it sounded romantic.”
I laugh, but I’m also ridiculously flattered. So much so I wonder if it isn’t just talk. He must have so many women after him; I can’t imagine there is much he hasn’t done. Or perhaps he’s just not the romantic type...which means he really does want to make my first time special.
“I suppose you don’t usually have to make much effort with women,” I tease, but the sudden twist of jealousy in my chest shocks me. The thought of him with another woman is like acid in my gut. Which is ridiculous, I tell myself. This can’t be more than a holiday fling. Yes, he said I was his, but that was just part of his dirty talk, I’m sure.
“I don’t,” he says seriously. “But only because I don’t bother with them that much as a rule.”
I’m puzzled. “Bottles of wine or women?”
“Both,” he shrugs. I look at him disbelievingly. “But you’re ... gorgeous. Women must fall all over you.”
“Yeah,” he says without a trace of humility, as though the fact is just something that he takes for granted, “but mostly it’s annoying.” He stares into my eyes with such intensity I can’t look away. “I don’t do casual,” he says. Before I can stammer a reply he gets up and starts to clear the plates.
“I’ll help,” I say. He shakes his head.
“You’re a guest.”
I sit at the table for a while, not really knowing what to do with myself. I watch him bustling around and it’s impossible not to stare at his chiseled body and the way he moves, oozing confidence in a completely unself-conscious way. You don’t get men like this back home. I can’t imagine you find that many of them in Ireland either. No wonder Brendan and his brothers are a force to be reckoned with.
After a while I go up to my room and finish unpacking, and then come back downstairs. I can hear Caitlin’s voice. I help her set up the bar downstairs while Brendan makes phone calls in the back room, his voice low. After a while the doorman from last night arrives and asks to speak to Brendan, his face grim.
“They were connected to the O’Donnell’s,” the door
man says as soon as Brendan comes into the bar. “The guy that you knocked out was a cousin of theirs, moved up from Galway. No doubt they were here causing trouble on purpose.”
Brendan shakes his head. “Deliberately showing disrespect,” he says in a voice that throbs with anger.
“Well I reckon you taught them some,” Caitlin pipes up.
“But the O’Donnell’s themselves...they need to know that this won’t be tolerated.”
“They will claim they know nothing about it.”
“But we know that they do.”
Brendan drums his fingers on the bar, deep in thought. Then he shrugs.
“They wanted us to be rattled and it’s backfired on them. If it was anyone else it might be warning enough but the O’Donnell’s don’t like being embarrassed...especially not if it was their cousin I knocked out.”
“So you think they’ll be up for a reckoning?” The doorman cracks his knuckles as though he can’t wait.
“Maybe...but I doubt they’ve got the balls. Let’s see what their next move is.”
The doorman looks almost disappointed.
The bar gets busier in the afternoon and Brendan spends most of it talking in one of the private rooms with two thickset, dour looking men. Who seem to look a lot happier when they finally emerge...clearly some kind of deal has been struck. I wonder just what the bar is a front for and then decide that I don’t want to know. But I have to ask myself, if this goes anywhere, do I really would want to be with a man who is in the same ‘business’ as my father. It certainly hasn’t made my mother happy, for all the material comforts it has brought her. Yet I can’t help thinking that things with Brendan would be very different.
In the evening I go and get a shower and get changed, then make myself a salad before curling my hair and touching up my face. I take a deep breath as I head back down to the bar, hoping that we’re still on for our ‘date.’ I meet Brendan coming up the stairs as I’m going down. He has a bottle of very expensive rose in his hand and he gives me a slow smile, taking in my appearance and obviously pleased with what he sees.
“Have you eaten?” he asks. I nod and lick my lips as my mouth goes dry at the thought of spending the night with him. He stares intently at my mouth as though he’s thinking about me licking other things and I feel my face go hot.
“Get back up those stairs,” he all but growls and I turn and go back up. We go into the lounge and I sit down while he fetches glasses and pours me a glass of wine, handing it to me and sitting down next to me. I take a large gulp, feeling suddenly nervous. This is it. I’m about to lose my virginity.
He senses my nerves and places a hand over mine.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do Keeley,” he says gently. “It’s fine if you’re not ready.”
I take another mouthful of wine.
“I want to,” I say honestly. “I feel completely ready. I’m just...worried that I won’t know what to do.”
He grins and kisses the end of my nose almost tenderly.
“You’re so sexy,” he says.
“You find that sexy?”
“Knowing that I’m going to be your first? That anything you don’t know, I get to be the one to show you. Feck Keeley, I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”
I bite my lip, my body tingling in response to his words. It makes me feel bold. I set my wine glass down and look up at him expectantly.
“How about we forget the movie and go straight to bed?” I say. He looks surprised, but then his grin widens. He knocks the remainder of his glass back and sets it down.
“You’re a girl after my own heart Keeley Malone.” He stands up and holds his hand out to me.
Without hesitation, I take it.
CHAPTER 7
Keeley
He carries me into his bedroom, a typical bachelor's bedroom. I’m excited to notice the black silk sheets on a king-size bed. When he sets me on my feet, he leans down and kisses me softly.
“Are you ready?” he asks. I feel my breath catch in my throat.
“I’m ready,” I whisper.
He strokes my face and then gently pushes me back onto the bed, leaning over me and nibbling at my neck. His breath is hot on my face and a tingle goes through my whole body in anticipation.
“You are so goddamn hot Keeley, I’m telling you” he says in a rough voice that makes me feel that I’m exactly what he says. With Brendan I don’t feel self-conscious about my extra pounds at all – he seems to find every extra inch even sexier. Then he stands up and starts to take off his clothes. Although I saw him without his shirt on last night I still open my eyes wide at the sight of his strong and thick shoulders, chest and abs. His muscles ripple under his skin and I realize just how powerful he is.
My eyes widen even further as he pulls down his jeans and his cock springs free, thick and proud between his lean hips and strong thighs, emerging from a small patch of dark hair. I can’t help but stare, and as he walks towards me I feel my mouth go dry as I think about him putting it inside me. Even though I’m already wet and aching for him, I can’t help worrying if it will fit. It is my first time and I wasn’t expecting him to be this big.
He sits down next to me on the bed and strokes my face again, this time running his fingers down my neck and over the top of my breasts as they swell over the neckline of my dress. I feel my nipples stiffen instantly. Then he trails his hand down over the front of my dress, over my stomach, hips and thighs until he reaches my hem and then he starts to slowly lift it up, exposing me bit by bit to his gaze. I lift my hips so he can pull it up over them and see his eyes darken as his gaze lingers on my white lace panties. Then he pulls it up over my bra and I sit up and let him lift it over my head and toss it to one side. He deftly unclips my bra and pulls it down over my arms, his eyes now on my breasts as they jiggle free of the confines of the push-up bra. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and instead of feeling any embarrassment at my nakedness I find I want to show it off for him. I lean back on my hands and arch my back so my breasts are pushed forward and watch the desire flare in his eyes. He licks his lips as though he’s eyeing up some delicious dessert, I love the way he looks at me.
“You are truly gorgeous Keeley,” he says, his voice a deep, low rumble in his throat. “I want you to be my woman.”
I gasp and then nod, too overwhelmed with lust to form a coherent sentence. He reaches for me, caressing my breasts with one hand and gently rolling one hard nipple between his fingers. It sends a sensation like an electric shock straight to my clit and I gasp, involuntarily widening my legs as I feel the throbbing there. His eyes follow the movement and he runs his hand down my tummy and over my panties, stroking me expertly through the thin and now damp material.
“Open them wider,” he says. I spread my leg for him, enjoying how naughty and wanton it feels, and he slips his hand between the material and my skin and his fingertips find my clit. I can feel my pussy throbbing inside, craving the feel of him inside me. I feel my juices damp on my thighs. I feel ready.
I lift my hips towards him, wordlessly letting him know, but he holds me down with one firm hand, raising an eyebrow at me. There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes and when he speaks his voice is thick with such longing I can’t believe he’s holding back.
“I want to make this last Keeley,” he says. “This is your first time. I want to make sure that you remember it.”
How could I not? I think. “I know but...I want you so badly,” I gasp, finally finding my voice.
He smiles at me and adjusts his position on the bed so that he is nearer my feet. He removes his hand from my pussy, making me gasp in frustration. Then he lifts the foot nearest to him, bending my leg so he can bring my foot to his mouth and sucks gently on my toes. It’s such an unfamiliar but delicious feeling that I moan out loud, my hands bunching in the sheets. He places more of my toes into his mouth and sucks harder, his eyes staring into mine, and the feeling travels all
the way up my legs and straight to my aching pussy. I tip my head back and moan again unashamedly.
He lets go of my toes and starts to kiss along my instep, around my ankle and up my calf, stopping every now and again to give a nibble. I lie back on the bed, my breath coming in pants. I can’t believe that such an everyday part of my body could feel like this; every nerve ending on fire with sensation and raw with need. Any time I have ever daydreamed about what being with a guy would be like or might feel like, my wildest imaginings have never come close to the reality of being with Brendan. I feel close to climax just from his touch. He parts my thighs again with his hands and places himself between my legs, letting go of my calf and turning his attention to my inner thighs instead. I’m like clay in his hands as he squeezes and kisses the soft flesh on the inside of my thighs, his mouth just inches from my pussy.
He moves his mouth ever closer to that sweet spot, his breath hot on the material of my underwear, which must be soaked through by now. He hooks his thumbs in the sides of my panties and then rolls them down my thighs, kissing my mound as he goes. I help him take them off, kicking them away with my feet, and then groan in frustration as he kisses all around my mound and just brushes my labia with his lips before moving up and over my abdomen, his fingers making circles around my hip bones. I feel like I’ll explode if he doesn’t let me have some release soon. He moves up to my breasts and I let out a whimper as his mouth closes around a nipple, which is as hard as a pebble in his mouth. He sucks on it almost reverentially and I bury my hands in his hair, lifting up a leg to hook it over his hip and draw him closer to me, to the position I want him to be in. On top of me, thrusting inside me.
But he carries on making me wait. He lets go of my nipple and moves his mouth back up to my neck where he started, kissing the dip where my neck meets my shoulder and moving round to the hollow of my throat. One hand buries itself in the hair at the nape of my neck and tugs gently, exposing my throat to him.
Dad's Irish Wolf Shifter Friend (Irish Wolf Shifters Book 1) Page 4