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

hand between their damp bodies and found her clit, she cried out. Again, nobody had ever done that for her, ensured her orgasm, attended to her pleasure. She tightened inside, around him, big and filling her, let his fingers stroke over her while his cock stroked inside, two sources of pleasure mingling and twisting into one, coiling together, tighter, higher until she thought she might burst. And then she did burst, an explosion of sensation, sparks shimmering over her, colors shattering behind her eyelids, and she hung on to him so she didn’t fly apart.

She felt him explode too, his body taut against her, surging into her in long, hard thrusts, noises of pleasure and torment rippling from his throat.

He covered her mouth with his and drank from her in a long, ravenous kiss as he throbbed inside her and she quivered around him in aftershocks of delight.

Chapter Twelve

The ringtone of Shane’s cell phone somewhere in the bedroom aroused them from a drifting, languorous state of near-sleep. His warmth and heaviness felt so good, his arms around her, her head on his chest.

Keara lifted her head and gazed around the room.

“Shit,” Shane muttered, rolling away from her and out of bed.

He found the phone attached to his pants, lying in a heap on the floor. “Yeah?” He stood there, naked, his back to her, and she admired the curve of his back, the smooth ridges of muscle sloping down to two deep indentations just above the finest buttocks she’d ever seen. She smiled on a soft breath out. “I got tied up,” Shane said, and glanced at her with a lifted brow. “I may be a while longer. Why?” He listened. “Yeah, okay. Do that, that’s fine. I’ll see you later.”

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it on the bedside table before sliding back under the duvet cover.

“Don’t you have to go back to work?”

“Yeah. But we have a little longer.” He reached for her and slid her up against his hard warmth. “This is too nice to leave.”

“Mmmm.” She couldn’t argue with him there. She snuggled in again, a feeling of peace and contentment sliding over her. “You know, I didn’t make that story up.”

“What story?”

“About the SUV forcing me off the road.”

“I never thought you did.”

“Oh.” She listened to his heart thudding, strong and sure, beneath her cheek. “Okay. I think that other guy…what was his name?”

“Curtis.”

“Yeah. I think he thought I was totally making it up.”

“Possibly. We do tend to get a little cynical.”

“I just wanted you to know that…” She tipped her head back. “I didn’t make it up, but…I’m worried that maybe I’m going crazy.”

His mouth quirked. “You are, huh? Why are you worried about that? Because of the PTSD?”

“Well…” She cleared her throat. “Yes. And because of what happened at home just before I came here.”

“What happened, Keara?” He stroked a hand down her back, reassuring and strong.

She told him about the break-in at her condo and how it had turned out to be nothing. “My mind seems out of control lately,” she confessed to him, hiding her face against his chest again. “I also had a panic attack a couple of days before that when I tried to visit the bank. That’s never happened to me before. I didn’t believe it was a panic attack, but the doctor said it was classic. My mind and my body seem like they’re beyond my control sometimes. It…it scares me.”

“It is scary.” He pressed his face to the top of her head. “It’s terrifying. And nobody understands it, unless they’ve experienced it.”

She lifted her head to look at him, remembering what he’d said that night at his parents’ home. “You had PTSD, too?”

“Yup. It was humiliating. I hated to admit it, but like you, I couldn’t hide the things that were happening to me, the reactions I was having to stuff. Thank God for my parents, who recognized what was going on and made me get help. If it wasn’t for them…” His mouth tightened. “I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“So you know what’s like. But did you imagine things happening that weren’t real?”

He shook his head. “No. But everyone is different. I knew one guy who came back convinced everybody was out to get him. Like they were the enemy. He was really screwed up.”

Keara sucked on her bottom lip. “I guess it could be how I react. But I hate that, Shane. I don’t know if I can trust myself to really know what’s going on. That’s twice something like that has happened. How am I going to…” Her voice broke and she stopped, unable to say the words that terrified her.

“How do you know you can go back to work and manage a bank?”

She gave a small nod, her throat tight.

“Give it time, a thaisce.” He stroked her back again, warm, protective. The Gaelic endearment rolled off his tongue. “Give it time. You will.”

At that moment, she felt hope sprout inside her, tiny but there, more than she’d had for weeks of hopeless helplessness. Maybe Shane was right. She moved against him, skin to skin, loving the way she felt alive and…God, sexy.

They made love again—three orgasms in one afternoon, lord, that was amazing—and talked a little more until Shane heaved a sigh and said he really had to go back to work.

“I don’t want to cost you your job,” Keara said with a smile, buttoning her shirt carefully over bruises and tender breasts. She didn’t like the bruises, but the tender breasts were actually exciting. Every time she brushed over the sensitive tips she got a flippy feeling low in her tummy.

“Don’t worry.” He grinned. “I hardly ever take a lunch break. One day I take an extended one I think is okay.”

She glanced at her watch. “And you still have to take me home. Or, I could call a taxi…”

“Don’t be silly. It’s not far, I’ll drop you off.”

She walked into the Irish Sex Fairy Shop feeling lighter