Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave by Kelly Jamieson (the lemonade war series TXT) 📕

here he was pounding into her on the staircase for God’s sake. They hadn’t even made it to his bed.

“I’m sorry.” The words squeezed out between his clenched teeth and he kissed her again, her mouth soft and sweet beneath his, her tongue sliding against his, as urgently as his. He thrust into her once, twice, pressure building, heat spiraling.

She pressed up into him with his every downstroke, her mound bumping his lower belly, and then she cried out, her thighs tightening on his hips, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Ah, Keara, come for me, Keara.” He drove into her one more time and let sensation take him, let himself go, pouring into her in hot hard, pulses.

He rested his forehead on the carpet beside her while his heart slammed painfully in his chest and his lungs strained for air. “Jesus.”

“I know.” Her hands moved over his back in short, restless movements. “I know. Dear God, I know.”

When he could speak, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

“I can’t believe we did this.”

“Me neither.”

Her hands continued to pet his back.

“Fuck.”

“Mmmm?”

“I can’t believe it,” Shane muttered. “We forgot to use a condom.”

Her body tightened beneath him. “Uh. Yeah. That was kinda stupid.”

“It’s not like I don’t have any.” He rolled his forehead back and forth over the carpeted stair. “I’ve got three jumbo boxes of the damn things up in my bedroom.”

She snorted out a laugh which made her tighten around his still-hard cock. “Really? I thought you’d been using all those.”

“Ha.” He lifted his head, and frowned down at her, smoothing her hair back from her damp forehead with one hand. “I’m sorry, Keara. Are you…protected?”

“Yes. And I think I’m safe. I am.”

“I am too.” He gazed at her. “Sorry.”

“It’s as much my fault.” She touched his cheek. He went to move off her and out of her, and she winced.

“What? Shit, I forgot your bruises.”

“This one from the seatbelt is the worst.” She touched her left collarbone gingerly.

He pulled out and shoved himself back into his pants but didn’t zip up. Rising, he held a hand out to her and she took it and pulled herself up. She smoothed the skirt down over sexy bare legs.

“Well,” she said. “You’ve still got plenty of time to get back to the office.”

He laughed. “Oh no I don’t.” And he grabbed her and swung her up into his arms. With a squeal she clung to his shoulders and he started up the stairs.

“Shane! What are you doing?”

“I promised you foreplay and I’m going to give you foreplay.”

“Uh…wouldn’t that be afterplay?”

He grinned as he reached the upstairs hall, but didn’t set her down. He carried her into his bedroom. “We’ll call it afterplay and if it leads to something, then we’ll consider it to have turned into foreplay.”

Her smile made his heart start thudding again. Damn, he liked that smile.

He carried her over to the bed and lowered her gently to the pouffy surface, a plain navy blue duvet. She sank into the down, loving the softness on her aching body. Aching from the car accident yesterday and now aching from being fucked on the stairs. Her tummy flipped at the thought.

Shane hadn’t just been doing her a favor. He’d been so hot for her he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. The idea of that thrilled her to her melting core.

It had been so hot, so sexy, so wicked she hadn’t noticed any pain, only felt the desperate lustful longing to press herself against him, to have him deep inside her. Lord, she was melting all over again, slow liquid heat seeping down through her body to between her legs. She tightened her thighs and watched Shane start to unbutton his shirt.

Her mouth went dry and she felt her eyes widen. She’d wanted to see his chest. Dear lord, here it was. He shrugged out of the shirt and let it drop to the floor, and his chest was sooooo hot. Her eyes feasted on the ripped abs, the slabs of his pecs with dark nipples, the dust of hair between, and the thick muscles of his shoulders and upper arms.

She blinked.

And then his hands went to his pants, still unzipped and gaping open, the bulge there impressively recuperative.

Heat surged between her legs again and her nipples tingled as Shane shoved his pants and underwear down. His eyes met hers and he paused. If that had been her, standing there stripping in front of him, she’d be scarlet as Maeve’s hair and trying to cover herself. But Shane stood there unapologetically naked, supremely confident, and damn, he had good reason, because his body was a freakin’ work of art.

As a teenager he’d had a good body—nice male shape with wide shoulders, narrow hips, smooth bare chest—but he’d become so much more muscular since then. He was a man now—strong and heavily muscled and dominant. Keara’s eyes dropped to the nest of dark curls between thick thighs, and his penis jutting out, also thick, long and male-beautiful.

Her dry mouth began to water. She wanted to taste him. But at that moment Shane had other ideas and he fell to the bed beside her and began working at the buttons of her shirt.

He was going to undress her, and her heart swelled in her chest and her pussy dampened even more. It was so tender, so sexy. She longed for him to remove her clothes, ached for his touch.

She had to touch him too. She stroked over his corded arms and thick biceps as he slowly undid each button on her cotton shirt, then opened it to reveal her to his eyes. The way he studied her, with heavy lids and parted lips, was so sensual she burned. Her nipples tightened and her breasts swelled beneath the white lace of her bra. She knew she wasn’t well endowed, but Shane had never minded that, had loved her breasts and lavished attention on them. Her breasts were sensitive in inverse proportion to their size,