Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,26

digging into him. I feel the gush of liquid as I cum all over his fingers.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t stop my body from shuddering.

I can’t stop the hammering of my heart that this is what it really feels like.

I’m choking on emotions that make no sense to me. I don’t feel vulnerable or ashamed; I want more.

Shay extracts his fingers, and when his gaze swallows me up, I see confusion deep in his dark eyes. He’s leaning away like this is over. But I don’t work that way.

I’m nervous.

I’m a little afraid, but above all, I won’t take and not give. I reach out and touch his hard cock. His hands press into the wall behind my head as he groans at the slight contact. I run my hand along his full length. My juices drip down the inside of my leg. I don’t let all the issues swarm my mind as I move down the length of his body. Once I’m on my knees, I look back up at him, and he’s watching me, with a trickle of fear in his eyes.

I can’t stop the grin as I open his trousers. “I won’t bite.”

He’s hesitating, I don’t blame him, but he can’t take something from me and not allow me to take from him. I didn’t like things unbalanced. I didn’t like owing anyone.

Dragging down his trousers, he still holds onto the wall as I push down his white boxers. His cock is in my face, and it’s like I’ve discovered something new. I touch the tip, and it jumps. I touch it again, and it reacts the same way. Veins bulge, I look up one final time, but his eyes are closed. My lips touch the head before I pull back. This time he’s looking at me. The hunger in his eyes has me licking it before I take the tip in my mouth again.

Shay reaches down and takes his cock in his hand. He gives it a stroke, and I run my tongue along the top. My fingers trail up his thighs, and I hold them as I push more of his cock in my mouth, and he stops stroking. I have seen enough movies to guess what to do, but I’ve never done it before. His cock tastes salty, and when I release him from my mouth, I lick my lips, and he takes back over, running his hand up and down his cock. I can’t take my eyes off his cock, the head swells, and his pumps grow faster. I lick it again, and his groans cut off. White semen flows from the head, and I taste him. It’s salty. Most of his cum drips onto my chin and down the front of my dress. His strokes slow, and his breathing grows harsher as he closes his eyes.

He’s watching me as my tongue darts out and tastes a bit more of him. I don’t like how tasting him awakens an old feeling in me, one that never was fulfilled. The want to be wanted and the want to want someone else. A sharp band tightens around my chest as he continues to stare down at me like we aren’t in the most intimate stance. His lids flutter closed as he reaches down and pulls up his boxers.

I have no idea what to do, but what I don’t expect is for him to remove his t-shirt and kneel down in front of me.

Being this close to him hurts, and something carves itself into my chest as I look at all his tattoos. His body is a painting, and I want to follow each story. Yet, it’s there, the sense that I am betraying everything I am meant to fight for.

Lines have grown blurred in seconds since Jack’s arrival, and I see Shay.

Breda’s words that a man is a man haven’t left my mind either.

“What are you doing?” I ask as Shay reaches around me and unzips my dress. What we did was huge and was something I didn’t think I would ever do with him, but sex, I couldn’t go there.

“I’m not having sex with you.” My hands slam against his chest, but he’s a solid wall of muscle as he pulls the zipper down on my dress.

“Shay.” I use his name, and it’s like a slap. He sits back, his dark eyes searching my face.

“I won’t have sex with you,” I repeat.

“Your dress needs to be changed. It’s covered in my cum.” His confidence is