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“I want my reward now,” I panted, running my hands up his chest. “And it better be in orgasms.”
“Fuck,” he growled. His hand grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me down to his level, smashing his mouth against mine. This wasn’t like the sweet kisses he’d given me last night. No, this was fierce and all-consuming. I ran my fingers through his hair, basking in the softness as I pulled it from the bun at the back of his head.
Irish hippie.
A gasp tore through me as he tore at my tank top. Literally. The fucker split it right down the middle of my back. His hands pushed me to sit up, removing the tattered garment from my body before flipping our positions.
Seamus licked his lips, the sea of emerald in his eyes drowned out by his dilated pupils. He flicked the front clasp of my bra, palming my breasts in his hands. They were warm and calloused, a working man’s hand. My feet crawled up his legs, and I used them to push his sweatpants down, revealing his muscular, shapely ass.
Jesus, I could bounce a quarter off that thing.
He tore at my leggings, yanking them off my legs in one swift motion before he was on me again. I wrapped my hand around his massive cock, stroking firmly. Seamus groaned low in his chest, sounding more animal than man as he feasted on my mouth, exploring every inch.
“Jesus on a pancake,” I moaned as he surged his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. He stilled, his hair creating a veil around us as he simply gazed down at me.
There was something in the way he stared at me that caused my core to tighten and my heart to surge painfully. I knew in that moment that I’d fallen for him. My captor. My prison guard. A man I hardly knew.
Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome.
Or maybe I was just rebounding.
I’d never been in love before. Not even with Drew. I’d also never been with any other man besides the twins. What did that say about me that I’d fallen for the first two men to show any interest in me after the only man I’d ever been with cheated?
Was this love?
Or was it something else?
I tightened my legs around his waist, bucking my hips to get him to move, quickly becoming uncomfortable with where my thoughts were taking me. Seamus needed to fuck me—now.
“Seamus,” I moaned, rocking my hips, pleading with him to move. I needed him to move. “Please.”
The Irish sex god smirked, my begging drawing him out of his soft gaze.
“Ask nicely, wildcat,” he whispered heatedly.
I groaned, wishing I could take it back. Fuck…I really wanted orgasms. The Kavanaugh twins had created a monster. An orgasm-loving monster.
“Please, sir,” I purred, licking my lips as I ran my hands down his chest, my nails scraping at the skin hard enough to leave little red lines in their wake. Seamus shuddered. “Please fuck me.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
Then he began to move in earnest. I bucked against him like a woman possessed, meeting each of his brutal thrusts with my own. He sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, one hand coming up underneath my ass, pushing him in even deeper. I whimpered needily against his lips, snaking my hand down between us and teasing my swollen clit. The added stimulation sent me hurtling toward the abyss, my muscles tightening and my core clenching as I screamed his name.
“Fuck, wildcat,” he cursed as he pumped into me like a lion taking his bitch in heat, prolonging my orgasm until I was sobbing into the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life. “Jesus, you’re a dream.”
Stars exploded across my vision as the first orgasm bled into the second, and I was nothing more than a boneless heap beneath him.
“Now that was the type of sweatiness I’d been hoping for,” I laughed breathlessly. Seamus chuckled as he rolled us onto our sides, his cock still buried inside me. We remained like that for a while, catching our breath and basking in the afterglow of our fucking. My head rested against his bicep; his arm curled possessively around me. I ran my hand down his pecs, sweeping my fingers along the masterful paintings of his chest.
The rumbling of my stomach broke through the comfortable silence. Seamus must have heard it talking, because he smiled before easing himself out of me.
“Let’s get you fed, wildcat.” He stood, gently dragging me along with him. When he turned away from me to grab his clothes, I got the perfect view of his round, muscular ass, and my pussy was throbbing all over again.
A sheepish grin formed on my face when he turned and caught me staring, the heat in his eyes returning as he took in my naked state, his cum still dripping down my legs. A part of me wanted to be embarrassed, but I was far from it. If anything, it turned me on even more.
My heart sank in my chest, and my thoughts darkened. Was this just sex to them? None of us had discussed the finer points of what we were. If we were anything at all. I was their captive, after all.
Were they laughing at me while they were alone? Joking about how easy it was to seduce and fuck Crowe’s daughter? Was this nothing more than revenge? The joke would be on them if that was the case. My father didn’t give a fuck about me, but he would care if I fucked the men he was trying to take down.
