“It’s important you realize the limited motion you’d have if this were real, so I’m gonna step into you close. But I’m leaving my hands where they are for now.”
She nodded for fear her voice wouldn’t come out right, if at all. He stepped closer, planting his feet just behind and outside of hers. Little by little their bodies connected. First his chest to her shoulder blades, then the hard planes of his abs molded against her back. Finally he pressed his hips forward, joining them in a most intimate way that should have unnerved her but only made the tingling stronger and spread lower.
As she stood pinned between the wall and Irish’s body, the fear that had gripped her in the beginning changed to something else entirely: the excited fluttering feelings she had no idea how to describe or what to do about them. Her knowledge of this was exactly zilch. Though she was the furthest thing from a virgin, she had no past experiences—except from the night before—of this to go on.
Wanting a man’s touch was new to her. The tingling, the butterflies, and the wetness between her thighs, all new.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
Deciding it couldn’t hurt to listen to her body’s instincts, she shut the door to her brain, and all the dark memories she wished she could purge, and let herself simply…feel.
Closing her eyes, Kat leaned her head back until it settled into the space between his shoulder and neck. His cheek met her temple, then slid lower to brace against her jawline. The warmth of his breath moistened the skin on her neck, and she felt her nipples draw tight.
He groaned low in his chest. “How okay?”
“Unbelievably okay,” she answered on an exhale.
Her back arched, clearly needing something, though she didn’t know what. But then Irish leaned them back just enough to make space for his hands, which molded to her breasts, showing her that he knew exactly what she needed. She sucked in a breath at the glorious friction his palms created as they caressed and kneaded the sensitive mounds. Every touch and every pinch zinged straight to her center, building the heat until she literally pulsed with it. A keening moan filled the air, and it took several moments for Kat to realize it had come from her.
She reached back and pulled on the backs of his thighs to bring him even closer. His mouth moved to her ear to lick the shell, nibble her lobe, then suck the sting away.
“How about now? Still okay?” His voice was barely more than a growl against her neck before his lips trailed openmouthed kisses along its length.
He was worried she’d freak out again, that he’d do something to trip her defenses. “Irish, I’m good. As long as we keep things slow, I’ll be fine.”
“Believe me, I don’t ever plan on rushing anything with you again, sweetheart.”
The way he rasped sweethaht pretty much fried all her brain functions. The butterflies kicked things up a notch as his mouth began the long trip back up the side of her throat and his hands slid down her stomach. As his moved lower, hers went up to reach behind and dig her nails into the back of his neck and shoulder. Blissed-out didn’t even begin to describe Kat at that moment…
Until his hands gripped her hips to pull her against him.
Pain pressed in and blazed a trail right through her center, incinerating the butterflies and tingles and replacing them with a split-second montage of her dark memories. Memories of when there was no pleasure. Only pain.
Kat jerked, hissed in a breath through her teeth, and released Irish to close in on herself as much as possible between him and the wall. As usual, there was no easy escape.
Except that almost just as fast as she’d regressed, Irish had stepped to her side, giving her the opportunity to do just that. But she didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t even mean to freak out and wished she could rewind time and brace herself to avoid the reaction. Unfortunately, she still hadn’t figured out how to time travel to prevent things she didn’t want. She’d been wishing for that her entire life.
“Kat, I’m sorry, I did it again—”
“No, you didn’t.” The muscles in his jaw ticked and he looked away as though disgusted with himself. Placing a hand on his stubbled cheek, she brought his eyes back to hers. The last thing she wanted was for him to take blame for something others had caused. “Irish, you didn’t, I promise. I’m just a little tender on my hips right now from Mullineaux the other night, that’s all.”
Within seconds he grew in mass and size. His muscles grew bigger, his frame inches taller, and as he looked down at her, shadows fell over his face, making the angles sharper. Kat’s stomach dropped and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
His words scratched the silence like diamonds on glass. “Did that bastard leave marks on you?”