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CONNOR
Never in my life have I been so bloody satisfied and frustrated all at once. The night with Saoirse had exceeded my wildest expectations—and I don’t know how I fucking feel about it.
The easiest outcome would have been for her to be utterly disgusted by the entire experience and demand that I take her home before I ever got her up to that damned room. It would have confirmed that she was every bit the spoiled, uptight, vanilla princess I expected her to be from my life before, and I could have carried on accordingly. Married her, if I chose to, fucked her until I knocked her up, and gone on to enjoy all the varied pleasures that I’m used to indulging in with as many women as I can get my hands on.
But no.
Saoirse had been curious, if overwhelmed. She’d let me talk her into going upstairs. Baited me into giving her a safeword. Dared me to do my worst. And while I hadn’t donethat—we’d gone so much further than I’d expected to.
Even after one of the best blowjobs of my life, just the memory of Saoirse bound to that bench, her ass hot and red under my hand, her clenching asshole around my finger, and her wet twitching clit against my hand as I’d made her come over and over has me hard all over again.
I’d thought I didn’t like virgins.
It’s becoming very clear that I like this one far too much.
It just means I’ll know what to ask for when I take those lovers you promised me.
There’s no reason for me to be jealous. I’d promised her freedom, and I’d meant it. After all, I don’t have any use for the ridiculous patriarchal traditions of the mafia and their restrictions on their wives. As long as I know any children Saoirse has are mine, I don’t care what she does.
Or I didn’t, at least.
But now—
I hadn’t expected her to be so fuckingresponsive.She’s a virgin, for Christ’s sake. Virgins whimper and cry, promise and take back, fret, and stumble awkwardly through their first times. They’re terrified and unsure, and sometimes regretful. Easily scared and embarrassed about their own desires.
Saoirse had been none of those things. Oh, she’d been afraid—I’d seen it in her face. She’d been unsure, even. She hadn’t known what a butt plug was, for fuck’s sake. She’d never been spanked, tied up, never had a cock in her mouth.
But she’d been too stubborn or defiant orsomethingto let on. Once she’d committed to letting me push her boundaries, she’d let herself experience the pleasure I’d offered her. She’d tried to understand what it was that turned me on about all of it, pushed herownboundaries.
She’d been so fucking responsive. I know that every time I jerk off for years to come, I’ll be thinking about her arousal on my fingers, the way she was soaked before I ever touched her, how she came so fucking hard that first time, desperate for her orgasm. How she was drenched all over again from my cock in her mouth.
The thought of her responding like that for another man, letting some other man invade her mouth or ass or pussy with his fingers and tongue and cock, screaming her orgasm for him, makes me feel a rush of blind fury that makes absolutely no fucking sense.
Barely two days ago, I didn’t evenwantSaoirse O’Sullivan. Now I have the burning urge to kill any other man who touches her.
She’s not going to let you go back on it. Not unless you’re faithful to her, too.Saoirse O’Sullivan, I’m quickly finding out, is a force of nature. A woman who isn’t going to let me walk over her or be easily cowed. She knows her own worth, and I can’t help but feel a grudging respect for her for it.
What would that be like? Fidelity?
I’ve never thought I was made for it. I like variety, adventure, the thrill of the chase, and discovering a new woman—her body, her responses, the things she likes and the things she doesn’t, everything that makes a new partner unique. I’m not a one-and-done kind of man, I enjoy getting to know a partner well enough to get as much pleasure for us both as I can, but I’ve never done romance. No dates, no sleepovers, no labels, and no promises. Just fun and orgasms.
I wouldn’t know how to give that to Saoirse if I tried. And if I tried—
--she’d be just as likely to laugh in my face as accept my attempt to be hers and hers alone. She might not even want it after the arrangement I laid out for her. Surely, for a girl who’s been kept under lock and key her whole life, the idea of being allowed sexual freedom must be intoxicating. She’s probably fine with the arrangement—more than fine, if her parting words tonight were any indication.
Now that she’s had a taste of pleasure, she’ll want more of it. Much more. The fact that I’m considering locking myself down to only Saoirse for even a moment says just how careful I need to be of my own attachments—how dangerous she could be to me.
She could make me lose my wits when I need them all the most.
By the time I get back to my apartment, I’m hard as hell again. Even the monotony of finishing my packing for Dublin can’t make it go down to more than half-mast. When I strip down for bed, my cock comes roaring back to life at the memory of getting it out earlier tonight for Saoirse’s first taste.
Any other night, I’d have stroked myself to a quick and satisfying climax—but not tonight. Even though it means I’ll lay awake frustrated and trying to sleep for longer than I should, I stubbornly ignore the throbbing between my legs as I get into bed and all the thoughts of Saoirse that come along with it.
I can’t let my infatuation with her run any deeper. I need to make up my mind, marry her, and fuck her out of my system.
As I lay there, I feel like I’m aching more than I ever have before. But I refuse to touch myself. I won’t be able to keep from thinking about her if I do.
What I need is to get Saoirse O’Sullivanoutof my head.
