Love and Shamrocks: Ballybeg, Book 5
    She fumbled with his shirt buttons, and one bounced off the glass mirror.
    “Steady on,” he said with a laugh.
    “Sorry. They’re fiddly.” Another button ricocheted off the mahogany dresser. “Oops.”
    They stumbled against the wall, him tugging up her T-shirt, her fiddling with the clasp of his belt. They might be tipsy, but their bodies knew what to do.
    His belt opened, and she shifted her efforts to the button and zip. He groaned as she slid into his trousers and touched his erection through his underwear.
    “Well, well,” she said in a breathy voice.
    Slipping her fingers through the slit of his underwear, she stroked the tender flesh beneath. Seán let out a low hiss. She slid to her knees, and his balls ached. “No,” he gasped, catching her arm. “I want to kiss
    Her eyes widened, then a smile curved her full lips. “Then I’d better get naked, hadn’t I?”
    She took a step back and, in one fluid movement, pulled her top over her head and flung it to the side. His eyes widened, and he licked his lips. Underneath her T-shirt, as he’d ascertained during his exploration, Orla wore a black sports bra.
    “Had I known I’d be stripping off for someone this evening, I’d have worn something sexier.”
    He shook his head. “Trust me. It doesn’t get sexier than that.”
    Her eyes met his and held his gaze. Slowly, deliberately, she unbuttoned her jeans. She tugged them over her slim hips and down her legs.
    Seán’s blood pounded. Her simple Brazilian-cut knickers were as black as her bra and equally sexy.
His night was getting better by the second.
    Biting her bottom lip, she reached for the clasp. She slid the straps down her upper arms and revealed what lay beneath the bra.
    Seán’s heart rate kicked up a notch. The V of her top had given a glimpse of the barest hint of creamy cleavage, but nothing beat the real deal. Orla’s small breasts were high and firm with nipples the same dusky pink as her lips.
    “Well, hey,” he said, his voice husky with arousal. If this was the road to temptation, Seán was pressing the accelerator.
    Orla let the bra dangling from her fingers drop to the floor. Her mouth smiled an invitation.
    Seán closed the distance between them, and his fingertips met silky skin.
. He was a lost man. “Lose the panties.”
    Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened and shut. For a moment, he thought she’d argue the point. Instead, she laughed and hooked her thumbs into the sides of her underwear. She slid the knickers over her hips and tight little bum, let them drop down her legs, then kicked them off her feet in an elegant dance.
    “On the bed,” he said in a growl.
    This time, she didn’t hesitate. She lay on the floral cover, one arm flung out to the side, the other teasing a pebbled nipple. Her breathing was low and shallow and made his pulse pound.
    “And now?” she asked, her eyes cloudy with desire.
    “And now,” he replied, settling between her legs, “relax.”
    He kissed her breasts, nipping her nipples. She gasped and pulled on his hair, the fingers of her other hand tracing the vertebrae in his neck.
    He kissed a path to her abdomen, then drew his tongue in an erotic circle around her navel. Her belly was perfect. Slightly rounded, but with little excess flesh, and decorated with the odd silvery stretch mark.
    Seán let his tongue slide south, exploring her soft, neat curls while his fingers kneaded her firm buttocks.
    She arched when he bent to tease her clit. “Oh. Oh, my,” she exhaled in a breathy moan.
    Her taste was a delicious mix of sweet and salty. He nibbled her clit, making her gasp.
    “I want you inside me.”
    “Patience is a virtue.”
    She laughed. “I don’t do virtues.”
    Despite her obvious impatience, she fell silent and allowed him to tease her to distraction. Her every moan made him harder, his breath more shallow. He wanted her bad.
    Finally, she arched away from him. “Now I want. You.

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