Emmett is quiet in the car on the way back to the house. I can’t tell if he’s angry with me because he thinks I encouraged Ronan to flirt, or if he’s embarrassed about fighting in a pub like a teenager. We’re barely through the door when he grabs my hand and leads me upstairs.
“We’ll be back down for dinner,” he says over his shoulder to his mom.
His fist is like metal around my hand. My heart is thumping. Part of me—the sensible, level-headed part that has protected me through everything that has ever happened to me—wants to yell at him to let me go. But the other part—the part that was zapped into life when he fucked me down by the stream—is screaming at me to hold on tight and enjoy the ride.
What if he’s going to tell me it’s all over now though, I argue with myself.
What if he wants me to take off the engagement ring and fly back to New York with Dave, the bodyguard?
What if I never see him again after this?
We stop outside his bedroom door.
“Emmett…?”
His mouth is on mine before I can gauge where this is going, and my tongue responds to his with desperate frantic movements. I hear the gentle groans coming from me, and I can’t believe that I’m even capable of them.
He opens the door, our mouths still locked together, and we practically fall through the doorway and into his room. The room is in a shadowy twilight state—it was light when we went out—like falling into a cocoon.
My pulse is racing. I already know that I’ll do whatever he wants me to do because I have never wanted anyone the way I want Emmett O’Hara right now.
Without warning, he drops his pants, his cock springing free and resting against my stomach. I instinctively reach for it and get a brief sensation of velvety smooth hardness before he pushes me down onto my knees in front of him.
He rubs his cock around my face leaving a wet trail across my cheeks, my eyelids, my chin. Pressing it against my lips, I keep them shut, afraid that I won’t know what to do with it when it’s in my mouth. I part my lips just enough to taste him, and a shudder of anticipation travels through me.
“Open your mouth for me, Mary.” The voice is disembodied as I stare at his cock, the fair wiry hairs at the base, the faint line of fuzz running up his abdomen towards his belly button.
There is something about being on my knees with his cock in my face that threatens hysteria to gurgle out of me, but then I feel the tingling sensation between my legs, the way my pussy pulses, and I know that it isn’t hysteria. It’s desire. Emmett O’Hara in an expensive suit with that air of arrogance riding his shoulders is the kind of man I wouldn’t look twice at, but here in Ireland, with his pants around his ankles, knowing that he would protect me with his life…
This Emmett O’Hara is irresistible.
I open my mouth, and he slides his cock in. Slowly. My lips clamping around it.
“Suck me, Mary.”
I do as I’m told. I don’t even know why, when I could easily tell him to fuck off, stand up, and walk away without a second thought. Only, I do know why. If I walk away now, I’ll probably never experience again what I felt down by the stream, and if this is all I can take with me back to New York, then I’m going to take everything that he has to offer.
I suck the end of his cock, teasing it with my tongue, tasting the sticky wetness around the head. But then he pushes it further, and I instinctively gag, tears welling in my eyes.
I pull away, gripping the base with one hand, and catch my breath.
“Take it slowly,” he says. “I know you can do it, Mary.”
I peer up at him, and our eyes meet. Suddenly, I want to do it. I want to make him feel the way he made me feel by the stream.
His cock is already probing my mouth, parting my lips like they were made for this. I close my eyes and open my mouth wider, letting him in. This time, I control how far his erection goes, clamping my teeth around him and nibbling him gently. I grip the base tightly, enjoying the way Emmett groans when my hand slides along it.
Finally, I find my rhythm. Holding him tightly, I suck harder, easing him in and out of my mouth with my hand, synching my movements with his breathing.
A thrill of excitement runs down my spine when I sense that he is getting close to coming. I’m doing this, I tell myself. His pleasure is my pleasure, like I’ve just discovered a new gift I never knew I had.
I taste his pre-cum, and he pulls out quickly, pulling me back up onto my feet.
“Strip for me, Mary.”
I shake my head. “I… I don’t—”
“Do it.” His tongue is in my ear, his warm breath on my neck, and I unzip my jeans with trembling fingers.
He pulls away and watches me step out of my jeans and pull off my socks. I remove my sweater and toss it onto the floor as I stand in front of him in my bra and panties. Goosebumps pop on my arms and legs, not from the cold but from his intense stare.
“Take them off.”
I unclip my bra and shrug it onto the floor. Emmett’s cock twitches when he looks at my breasts, but he doesn’t touch me. I slide my panties down over my hips and kick them aside too.
Then, taking me by surprise, he pulls his pants back up, covering his erection, and tells me to lie down on the bed.
“Open your legs, Mary.”
I spread my legs wide, and Emmett watches me from his position near the doorway. Then he comes and lays down beside me, stroking my breasts with his fingertips and studying me the way an art expert might study a painting by a classic artist.
His fingers travel down, teasing my pubic hair, a faint smile on his face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Then, he inserts a finger inside me, probing, pushing, feeling his way around.
“How does that feel?”
“Good,” I gasp.
“How about this?” He inserts another finger.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“You’re so tight, Mary.” There’s such a look of concentration on his face, as though he’s mapping inside me with his fingers, that I want to kiss him all over.
Raising myself onto my elbows, I kiss him hard, forcing my tongue into his mouth before he can take control. I sense the smile in his eyes.
“How do you want me, Mary?”
Huh? How am I supposed to answer this?
“Like this?” He removes his fingers and straddles me, still fully clothed, his pants rubbing against my pussy. “Or did you like it from behind?”
“Yes.” I chew my bottom lip. “I liked it that way.”
He gives me a lopsided smile. “Brace yourself, Mary, because I’m going to give it to you every way I can think of. And then some.”
He slides over the foot of the bed and drags me towards him so that my sex is in his face. Spreading my legs wide, he starts licking, gently at first, and then getting harder and deeper, his tongue dragging across my clit and sending my brain cells spiraling away from me. My breathing grows ragged. I grip the comforter in both fists and arch my back, pushing myself onto his tongue, my orgasm ripping through me.
Emmett grips my knees and forces my legs backwards, raising my butt in the air. I watch as he fucks me with his finger, sliding it out and licking my taste with his tongue. Then he frees his erection, and he’s inside me, filling me up. My knees are around my ears, and I swear that I can feel him ramming my spine with every thrust.
His mouth covers mine. His hand closes around my throat, and he applies pressure, enough to make me gasp as he breathes into my mouth.
My head spins. My kisses grow more demanding. The harder he pumps into me, the more I want him. My sex throbs around him, his length rubbing my clit as he pulls himself out and then in again.
We explode together. I can no longer feel where my body ends, and Emmett’s begins, and when he lies on top of me, his erection shrinking inside me, I wrap my arms around him and listen to his heartbeat thumping in synch with mine.
I don’t know how long we stay like this, my limbs circling Emmett, our bodies pressed together. When I think that he might’ve fallen asleep on top of me, he pulls away from me and undresses, his eyes devouring my body.
We take it slowly, Emmett kissing me all over and making me come repeatedly with his tongue. He keeps his promise and fucks me in more ways that I can even remember. We skip dinner, the family going about their day without us.
Finally, when the house is silent, we wrap ourselves in bathrobes and wander down to the kitchen where Emmett prepares omelets using leftover turkey and ham while I watch him from a seat at the pine table. We’ve hardly spoken in his room, unless it was about sex, and I feel almost shy again now that we’re back in the family setting, even though my nakedness is covered by the robe.
We have explored every part of each other’s bodies.
I can still feel him between my legs, and I know that if he wanted to fuck me on the kitchen floor, I would lay down and open my legs wide right now.
He slides a plate towards me and sits next to me at the table.
The omelet is smothered with cheese and melts in my mouth. “This is delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”
“My mom taught me.” He swallows a mouthful of freshly brewed coffee. “She said no son of hers would grow up expecting a wife to cook for him.”
It feels surreal sitting here alone late at night, the two of us, knowing how our bodies react to each other. It’s like we’re tethered by desire. Or is it lust? How am I supposed to know the difference?
I want to ask him what this means for us. It changes everything, doesn’t it? He can’t deny that he wants me as much as I want him, but I’m still acutely conscious of the fact that the ring on my finger means nothing. We might have spent the last twelve hours having the most incredible, mind-blowing sex, but it doesn’t mean that he wants to marry me.
“Don’t, Mary.” He leans across and kisses me on the lips. “Let’s not talk about what happens after the holidays. Let’s just enjoy the moment.”
And we do. Because what Emmett O’Hara wants, Emmett O’Hara gets, and if he doesn’t say the words out loud, I can pretend, just for tonight, that this is real.
The following morning, we sleep in late. Emmett sneaks me back to the guest room while the house hums with sounds from the kitchen and the living room downstairs, kissing me on the lips as we part outside my door.
I want to tell him that everyone will have guessed why we didn’t come down for dinner yesterday, but he seems so contented that I can’t bring myself to do or say anything that will burst our bubble and send us careening back to reality. I know I’m clinging to false hope, but it’s all I have right now, and like a drowning shipwreck survivor, I’m not letting go.
When I finally wander downstairs, Emmett isn’t there. I try not to let my disappointment show on my face as I help myself to coffee in the kitchen and sit down carefully with Fianna and Emmet’s grandmothers who have started a jigsaw puzzle across the table. My sore pussy chafes against the seam of my jeans and I hide my face behind my coffee.
Granny Nina peers at me from behind the puzzle lid, frown lines creasing her forehead. “Where did you and Emmett get to yesterday? You missed Erin’s cottage pie.”
“Mom!” Sinead sucks in a deep breath and flashes a warning glance at her mother that goes unnoticed. “I told you they wanted some alone time.”
The heat rises in my cheeks.
“Missed breakfast as well.” Granny Mary arches an eyebrow and winks at me as she hands the other woman a jigsaw piece. “I think this is the piece you’re looking for.”
“I saved you some breakfast.” Sinead is already slicing a homemade loaf of bread while Erin uncovers a plate of grilled sausages, bacon, and mushrooms. “You must be starving.”
I almost choke on a mouthful of coffee.
Next to me, I hear Fianna chuckling softly. “If I can tear you away from my cousin, do you want to drive into town with me? There’s something I’d like to show you.”
“Is that okay?” I ask Sinead.
“Aye, we don’t have any plans, and don’t you dare be asking my son for permission to leave the house either.”
“That’s settled then.” Fianna eyes up the doorstop sandwich in front of me. “Eat up.”
I’m excited to go into town with Fianna. I’m intrigued about what she wants to show me, but also, every experience I have here helps me to imagine the kind of childhood Emmett must’ve had. Because now that I’ve had a taste of him, my appetite will never be satisfied.
We drive into Laragh and out the other side of the village, when Fianna stops the car outside a derelict low-rise building. She kills the engine, and faces me in the passenger seat, an eager smile on her face.
“I want you to keep an open mind, Mary. Try to see beyond the way it looks now and imagine how it could look once it has been renovated.”
“Okay.” I feel a twist of excitement somewhere deep inside and try to quell it for now.
Fianna lets us in with a key.
The building is even more dilapidated inside than it looks from the outside. Some of the internal walls have blown, plaster collapsing into heaps on the floor. There’s a hole in the ceiling of a downstairs room allowing us to see straight through into the room above. The kitchen looks as if it hasn’t been cleaned in years and is devoid of any equipment, loose cables hanging from wall sockets, and we quickly close the bathroom door without venturing inside.
“Well, what do you think?”
Fianna faces me in the middle of a large downstairs room, the only redeeming feature of which is a huge ornate fireplace.
Deep breath. “It needs a lot of work.”
She smiles. “My dad knows plenty of people who’ll carry out the renovations for me.” She crosses the room and peers out the window, gesturing for me to join her.
When I look outside, my breath catches in my throat. The land behind the building is vast and green, surrounded by hills, woodland, and a stream, the scene completed by a waterfall tumbling over a rocky promontory in the distance.
“That was my reaction when I first saw it.” Fianna points at the waterfall. “This view sealed the deal for me.”
“You own this place?”
Fianna can’t be any older than me, and I can’t help comparing my tiny New York apartment with a view of tenement buildings and traffic to this. I’ll never afford to buy even the tiniest apartment in the city, and here she is with the keys to a property that would house several families. I’m not envious. I’m in awe.
“My parents gave me the deposit.” She wrinkles her nose. “I know I’m lucky that my family can help me out, but I want to finish this without any more financial help from them and their acquaintances.”
If she means people like the psycho from the pub the day before, I can understand why.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I want to turn it into a boutique hotel. I have so many ideas, Mary. Each room is going to be themed, unique, and provide an experience rather than just an overnight stay. I want people to remember it after they’ve spent a night here, you know. I’ve never forgotten staying in a hotel in Dublin with my parents when I was a little girl. It was like stepping into another world with the huge chandeliers and the four-poster bed.” She takes my hands in hers. “I want people to feel that same excitement when they walk in.”
Her enthusiasm is infectious. I can already envisage a fairytale-themed room with antique lace curtains around the bed, an old-fashioned wooden stand with a porcelain bowl to wash in, and a woodland scene painted across the walls complete with fairies, sprites, and pixies.
“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” Fine lines appear between her eyebrows.
I shake my head. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think it’s a brilliant idea.” A thought occurs to me then. “Does Emmett know about this?”
“No. No one else knows apart from my parents. I just had a feeling that you would see it as I do.”
My heart skips a little to think that she told me before Emmett. “I wish I could help.”
Her smile is wide, like this was the reason she brought me here. “Why don’t you? Why don’t you stay and help?”
“I…” My thoughts are falling over each other, trying to remind me of all the reasons why I must go back. But one reason stands out more than all the others.
Emmett.
“Mary.” Fianna sucks her bottom lip, psyching herself up for what she’s about to say. “You and Emmett… You’re not really engaged to be married, are you?”
“Y-you know?” My heart performs a somersault, and I think I’m going to be sick. “Did he tell you?”
“No. But he would never have bought you a ring when he was always going to have Granny Mary’s, and you would never have met his family without any clothes of your own.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t know what’s going on—you’ll tell me in your own time—but if you want to stay and help me, I would love to have you on board.”
Tears sting behind my eyes, emotion swirling around my chest. “Why?” I sniff loudly. “I mean, you don’t know anything about me.”
She shrugs. “I know that you love my cousin.”
“Shit. Is it that obvious?”
“Only to anyone who sees you two together.”
The words make me feel nauseous as they spill out. “I’m not sure he feels the same way about me.”
“Oh, Mary.” Fianna chuckles softly. “You really don’t know him at all, do you?”
