"He said something about the game room."
"Follow me."
About five minutes later, Gillian was walking into an enormous type of game room. There was a bar area, a pool table, a large sitting area, and an elaborate, rectangular card table. At the card table, John, Benito, an Asian man, and Patrick sat. As she entered the room and the door closed, all four men turned to stare at her. Gillian immediately felt a wave of lust and desire hit her core as Patrick stood up and walked around the table to aggressively approach her. She straightened her back as the Irishman circled her. She felt him rub his face against her dark hair and inhale as his hands cupped her bottom through her dress. At her sharp gasp, she heard him chuckle before coming around to stand before her. As their eyes met, she felt her pussy flood with moisture. Patrick was a very beautiful man. The Irishman had the face of an angel but the heart of a devil. Her eyes drifted down from his turquoise eyes to the cream-colored vest and pant suit he wore. The long sleeved, white shirt he wore under the vest was rolled up to the elbows to expose his tattooed arms. On his blond head, Patrick wore an off-white newsboy hat. Just like John, Patrick took her breath away.
Patrick felt his dick punch the zipper of his pants as his eyes took in her voluptuous form. He had felt the woman approaching the room even before she had opened the door. The moment he had seen her, he had felt himself being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Gillian was sexy, stunning, sinful, and Patrick wanted to feel every inch of her luscious body against his. He felt guilty for the things he had said to her earlier, but he could not explain the raw emotions he had felt when the American had gently touched his injured hand. Only his mother had ever caressed him that way, as a child. The woman had caused such an uproar in Patrick emotionally that he had run from her when all he really wanted to do was fuck her on the table. He didn't like the feelings Gillian elicited in him, and he would be damned if he let a woman make a fool out of him or his brother, John. What made Patrick even angrier was that he had left Gillian and called a mistress to get the monkey off his back but had called it off before she had even arrived. Maybe if he just slept with Gillian, Patrick could get her out of his system. Tonight, would be his test.
"You look rather delicious tonight." Patrick smiled as he licked his lips. "I'm surprised Johnny let you out of the house dressed like that. Then again, I'm glad he did. It would be so easy for me to raise your dress up and fuck that pretty pussy."
"You won't be fucking anything, Patrick, especially after the way you treated me earlier today," Gillian replied coolly, looking directly into his eyes. "I'm no man's whore, and that includes you."
Patrick dryly laughed as he towered over her. Just because the Irishman could, he knotted her long, ebony hair in his injured hand and jerked her head back. His lips hovered above hers as he huskily said, "You'll be whatever I want you to be, Gillian, and right now, I want your legs wrapped around me."
Gillian's breath caught in her throat when Patrick's mouth slammed against hers as he roughly pushed her back against the door. Her hands pushed at the Irishman's broad, muscular chest, but he was too strong for her. She felt his hand jerk up her dress as he easily picked her up and wrapped her legs against his waist. The stunning American moaned in ecstasy as Patrick rubbed his erection against her damp pussy and assaulted her mouth with his lips and tongue. Her fingers dug into his hair as his mouth blazed a trail down her neck. She heard him let out an animalistic growl as she bit his ear lobe and pulled it with her teeth before one of her hands slipped down between their bodies to fondle his clothed, engorged cock.
"Fuck, I need you," Patrick growled in Gaelic so Gillian wouldn't understand. His blood was boiling with lust for this woman. He could feel her wet pussy against his dick and could smell her arousal. He had been with