by L. A. Boruff
A small shiver travels down my spine as I realize he’s probably right… and I can’t fucking wait.
6
Rhett and I head back from the warehouse just as my phone chimes with an incoming text.
Declan: Where are you?
Katie: Where are YOU?
Declan: WE are waiting for you at O’Shea’s. Where YOU should be.
Katie: On our way Sir!
I smirk at that last comment, knowing that using that term will get him revved up more than anything else I could have said. If there’s one thing Declan loves, it’s the feeling of control. We don’t live a traditional BDSM lifestyle by any means, but when we play Declan likes to command, and to my own surprise I find that in those instances I am happy to obey.
Hurrying our pace, Rhett and I walk briskly down the strip dodging people streaming from the pubs as they bar hop from location to location. Clearly, some of them have been celebrating for quite a while as their steps weave unsteadily on the pavement. Occasionally I spy small groups of men drinking beer and catcalling at every girl who passes too close. One college-age guy reaches out to snag my arm as we pass until Rhett grabs his wrist saying goodnaturedly, “This one’s mine boys! Go find a girl of your own.”
Sweeping through the doorway of O’Shea’s, my eyes dart across the crowd before settling on Declan’s dark, saturnine features as an older man in a tartan plaid shirt and handlebar mustache drones on about his last trip to the ‘homeland’ and the pubs he visited while he was there.
Declan has a serious expression on his face as he tries to look engrossed in the conversation but I can tell by the slight twitch in his right eye that he’s holding on with a thread. It’s one of his signature tells and I’m amazed when people don’t realize that he’s completely checked out of a conversation.
I know how much he hates getting caught in these discussions with his Grandfather’s cronies who always seem to be around, and always feels the need to set him straight on one topic or another.
Taking pity on him I saunter their way before lightly hooking my arm through his and reaching on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. Relief flares in his eyes as he grabs my hand like a lifeline declaring, “There you are! Angus was telling me a fascinating story about his last trip but I know you must need a drink. Let me take you to the bar and remedy that situation immediately.”
Angus greets me with a hug, declaring how ‘bonnie’ I look in my tartan skirt and waves us toward the bar. Weaving our way through the crowd I see Eric and Grady in the distance playing darts with some of the other volunteers. They smirk at Rhett as he joins them, slapping Eric on the shoulder while high fiving Grady who looks my way and winks. I can’t help but widen my eyes innocently at him until Declan again demands my attention.
“What have you been doing? I’ve been stuck listening to nonsensical chatter for the last thirty minutes.” Handing me a pale lager, Declan lifts his glass of double malt scotch clinking his glass lightly to mine.
Again schooling my features into an innocent expression, I protest, “Rhett needed a hand.” My lips twitch slightly at the innuendo and Declan’s expression darkens as he catches the double entendre to understand exactly what kind of hand he needed.
“Well, Katelyn, I believe I could use a hand myself. Perhaps you and I need to find a quiet place for you to help me out here.”
The dark velvet of Declan’s voice always delights me on some primal level that makes him irresistible to me. Even though I just got off with Rhett in the warehouse, I can still feel the damp heat in my panties at Declan’s words.
Tugging at his hand I start moving toward the back of the pub saying, “I think I need to use the restroom. Perhaps you should come along to hold my drink.”
Walking backward I watch Declan scan the crowd and catch Eric’s eye as we head toward the back hallway and the restrooms. Eric heads our direction on an intercept course just as yet another volunteer steps into our path to congratulate Declan on the parade and ask about the concept behind the float and the foundation. Eric looks pleased that another patron has managed to keep Declan from me yet again. I wonder what scheme he would have used this time.
Watching Declan’s shoulders drop in resignation I pull away gently, heading toward the restroom because I really do need to relieve myself. Oddly, it’s fairly quiet considering how many people are packed into the pub. Although, it seems like this particular spot is finally beginning to empty as the progression of the pub crawl has drawn people on to the next location. Just not enough to keep them away from Declan.
Laughing to myself at the expression on Declan’s face as he was interrupted yet again, I nod to the two girls whispering by the sinks. One looks completely trashed, her hair falling down from a messy bun, and her lipstick smeared across her face. Either she just got lucky in the alley, or she is trashed beyond repair and is trying to pull herself together. Her sparkly green eyeshadow is smeared beneath her eyes and she looks what we used to politely call ‘rode hard and put away wet’. Either way, I’m not surprised to see her friend hook her arm around her waist and try to steady her before reaching for the door.
For a pub, the restroom is sized quite generously with four stalls, and wooden doors that reach all the way to the floor. Tapping lightly on a door at the end to make sure that it’s empty, I turn the handle, hearing a toilet flush further down the line.
Heading into the stall I realize that my skirt has become quite creased, possibly from the number of times it’s been pushed haphazardly to my waist today, or the fact that I was partially kneeling on it when I was helping Rhett out earlier. Giving an internal shrug, I realize it doesn’t really matter as we’re almost through the day. Surely we’ll be heading home soon.
My lack of sleep from last night is finally catching up with me. Although the few hours I got with Eric this morning were great, they weren’t enough to keep me going indefinitely. I’ll be more than happy to go home and snuggle up with my guys for the night. A movie in the media room, or just some quiet time on the deck sounds delightful. The evening feels balmy enough that I can envision just hanging out with a glass of wine and chatting before bed.
I’m amused at the traces of graffiti on the walls declaring undying love or hate for various people and things. Or in the case of one bit of prose, the malfunctioning equipment of what undoubtedly is a past lover. Shaking my head, I wonder if it’s true, and thank my lucky stars that my men are all adequately endowed and not only skilled, but enthusiastic in their pursuit of desire.
As I flush the toilet and readjust my skirt, I hear the bathroom door swing closed once again. Opening the door to the stall, my eyes widen at the site of Eric standing in front of me. He places a hand on my chest, pushing me back into the stall.
“What are you doing?” I squeak out as he lays a gentle finger across my lips and begins unbuttoning my shirt.
“Shhh…” he says untying the bottom of the shirt, parting it until he stares hungrily at my breasts sporting the shamrock pasties.
“Declan has a twisted sense of humor.” Lifting one breast he licks around the edges of the pastie before groaning in frustration. “I really want to taste these, but Declan will have a heart attack if he doesn’t get to unwrap them himself.”
Flicking ruefully at my shamrock covered nipple, his tongue begins to slide down the center of my cleavage, traveling south until hitting the waistband of my skirt. “I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with the other peak.” Busy fingers begin lifting my skirt and tugging at my thong as I squirm uneasily, staring at the closed door.
“Eric, seriously? Someone is bound to walk in here at any moment. Remember last time?” I ask nervously, although my pulse races at the thought of being discovered.
When Eric and I first met, we had a memorable moment in the basement of a bar one night. It was our first encounter alone together, and one of the first moments that I think I began to fall in love with him. His desire for me made me feel so wanted and special. Something I ha
dn’t realized I had been missing up til that point.
“Relax Katie. Think about it. Do we really care?” His hands suddenly grip me beneath my thighs so that I immediately need to clasp my hands around his neck as he turns my back to the door, bracing me there with his weight.
Reaching between us, he pulls my thong to the side as my hands busily pull his shirt from the waistband of his pants before unzipping and displaying him in all his glory. Groaning at the site of his dick peeking from the top of his boxer briefs, I grumble, “Declan will care if we get caught.”
Laughing, Eric reminds me, “Declan will only be angry that he didn’t get to participate.” Lifting my hips slightly higher around his waist, I sink quickly down around his shaft, his heat filling me just as the door opens once again. Eric has a kink for taking me in the most obscure places and trying not to get caught. It’s something exciting that I’ve learned to appreciate these past months.
Laughter sounds as I hear someone shuffle quickly to a stall several doors down and the sound of a couple loudly going at it assault my ears. My lips twitch as Eric rolls his eyes before thrusting his hips into mine.
“See? We aren’t the only ones getting lucky on St. Patty’s Day.”
I catch my breath on the next wave, my hands clasped around his neck and my back pressed against the door as the couple next to us goes at it like a couple of porn stars. The doors rattle as the girl lets out excessively loud, fake moans. We hear a deep, loud groan a second later, clearly indicating that the guy already finished. Wow, that was quick.
My shoulders begin to shake with laughter as I try to contain my mirth only to bite my lip as Eric thrusts against me once again. This man is insatiable, it was only hours ago that we came together in his bed, and clearly, I’m just as bad. My morning ‘breakfast’ with Grady and my escapades in the float today, still have me going. Plus thankfully, none of my guys lose it under a minute like our friendly neighbors in the next stall over.
What can I say? These men make me crazy and needy and satisfied in ways I’ve never felt before. Clasping Eric’s neck more tightly, I hoist myself higher trying to get the perfect angle.
Luckily, since the wooden doors reach all the way to the floor no one can see more than one set of feet underneath. The only thing that can give us away is the sound of my back slapping against the door with each thrust or the thudding of my heart as it races to bring me closer to my release.
The tension coiling in my stomach is wound so tight I feel like I can't breathe. Eric's hot breath cascades down the side of my neck where his chin is buried in the crux of my shoulder while my head slides up and down from where it rests against the door.
Knowing I’m on edge, Eric grasps my thighs more firmly, pounding into me until I feel as if the sheer force will crash us through the door into the main room. A cry begins to rise from my throat as with three more hard thrusts, I feel the heat of his release flooding my body and my orgasm unlocks to join his.
My cry is swallowed down as Eric’s lips suddenly seal over mine stealing my breath, and the toilet flushes several doors down. Slowly dropping my legs from his waist, I lean my fevered cheek against his chest, waiting for my breathing to come back into a normal range as water splashes in the sink, and paper towels are torn from a rack.
As the door closes behind them I finally lean back, reaching down to zip Eric’s jeans before trying to pull the ends of my now severely rumpled shirt together. Eric bats my hand away, buttoning the top three holes before tying the tail ends back together at my waist.
As he kisses the top of my head, lightly stroking my head, we stand there just breathing each other in for a moment. Staring at the walls, an idea pops into my mind and I begin to rummage through my purse as Eric watches, confused. Finally, grabbing a pen, I quickly turn to the wall and scrawl Eric and Katie were here, before capping the pen and turning to Eric.
Laughing softly, Eric takes the pen, crossing out the word ‘were’ as I lift one brow in question, replacing it with Got Lucky. Punching his shoulder in mock horror, I unlock the door and quickly look both ways before pulling him from the stall and back out into the hallway. I take a second in the bathroom to clean up before heading back toward the main bar, entering the melee as Declan’s eyes take in my altered appearance, his lips tightening.
His frustration from across the room is palpable and I move his way, leaning against him reassuringly, where he stands chatting with some local patrons. His arm immediately encircles my shoulder as he abruptly cuts off the conversation.
“Excuse us. Katelyn and I have a prior commitment. We’re going to be late.”
A protest rises to my lips before being cut off as we turn quickly and head toward the door. I barely have time to ask about the rest of the guys, when Declan assures me that they’ll meet us at home later. He guides me swiftly to the valet stand to surrender his ticket and the Jaguar is pulled up surprisingly fast. I guess there are perks to being the Grand Marshall.
After settling into the passenger seat, Declan’s hand firmly clasps my thigh before saying, “Don’t think I don’t know the game they’ve all been trying to play today. But Katelyn, I told you that I would get a taste of your Pot O’ Gold. Now that they’ve been blocking me all day, you better prepare yourself when I show you how lucky this Irishman is going to get.”
With that, he settles back into the driver’s seat, stroking my bare thigh above my boot and humming an Irish tune under his breath as we make our way home.
7
The car ride home is a lesson in patience. The sexual tension is thick, Declan’s frustration from being cockblocked so many times today clear on his face. Not to mention the fact that if I don’t have him inside me in the next five minutes I’m going to ask him to pull over and mount him right here in this car. Let’s be honest, the things I want to do to that man, and more specifically, the things I want him to do to me can’t be done in the car.
I never thought I’d be in a relationship that would have this type of dynamic, where I would willingly submit to someone. But hell, I can’t say that I don’t love it. Plus, it isn’t like Declan and I exclusively use the playroom or anything like that, it’s more of a special edition to our already passionate dynamic. Sometimes after a long day of work and making decisions over every little detail, I just want to give up control. And Declan, he absolutely loves that. It’s a side of him that he admittedly craves, and I’m more than happy to fulfill that fantasy. Having all that precise focus on me, with the common goal of our pleasure and testing our limits, there's something special about that.
Declan smoothly pulls the Jaguar into the garage and I quickly jump out of the car, not wanting to waste any time. He seems to have the same idea as he meets me at the garage door leading into our house, pressing my back against the frame. He wastes no time pressing the entire length of his body into mine, claiming my lips as his hands tangle in my hair at the base of my neck.
Our tongues intertwine, a symphony of lips and teeth and raw passion. Not wanting to wait any longer I reach behind me and twist the knob on the door, making both of us stumble at the movement. I give Declan a saucy grin before sprinting down the hallway to the stairwell, intent on making it to his bedroom first.
I make it up the first couple of stairs before he grabs me around the waist, turning me to face him as he once again claims my lips, his hands roaming over every inch of me.
“I can’t fucking wait any longer Katelyn. We’ll play later, you can bet your cute ass on that, but I need you right fucking now. You have no idea how hard it was to see you wearing my colors all day and not being able to flip that skirt up and fuck you into exhaustion. You’d think the guys were conspiring to keep you away from me all day.”
I smirk before I can stop myself and his eyes widen before turning to a wicked gleam. I know I’m going to be in trouble later, but I can’t seem to mind. His hands find my ass, lifting me up slightly before setting me on the stair above. He kneels down, the difference in stair height
bringing his head directly in view of my pussy. I spread my legs wider, unashamed and waiting, seeing how long he can hold out now that he knows he isn’t the only one who had games in mind today.
He pounces, flipping up my skirt and gripping my thighs as he dives in. I lean back against the staircase, resting my head on the ledge against the onslaught of sensation. He plunges two fingers into my core without hesitation, knowing that I’m more than ready for him.
His fingers set an unrelenting rhythm, and I quiver from the mounting pleasure. His mouth joins the mix, his tongue licking a firm staccato pattern on my clit. Just as I’m about to come, I hear the opening of a zipper and then Declan is there, pressing at my opening and claiming me with one powerful thrust.
It’s rare that I get to see Declan lose control and I fucking love it. The edge of his zipper digs into my ass, adding to the sensation. I brace my hands on the stair above my head, as Declan continues fucking into me, making my eyes roll back into my head. He grabs my legs, hitting me deeper than I’ve ever felt and I explode.
I come all over his cock, literally seeing stars as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm before giving a final hard thrust and grinding into me, filling me up with rope after rope of his hot cum. Thank god for stairs.
Declan gently removes himself before reaching down to pull me up against him, supporting most of my weight in my post glow state. He gives me another kiss, one that speaks of love and utter devotion before it turns fierce, his love for dominance coming into play.
“Don’t for a second think I’m done with you. You’ve got some things to answer for Katelyn. Are you willing to play?”
It’s always my decision on whether or not I want to travel down the rabbit hole with Declan. It’s been a learning experience, but I’ve come to crave this aspect of us. Even now, when I’ve already been fucked seven ways from Sunday and he just claimed me on the stairs I find myself getting excited once again. There’s really only one choice to make.