Chapter Twenty-Three

Eamon

The next handful of weeks fly by in a blur as I complete the last season of my college football career with thirteen total goals, five of them being game-winners. The MLS SuperDraft is in January, and I'm trying to decide if I want to try out with Ro and Teagan. Unfortunately, Mac is also going, but I have a hard time believing that he'll actually be picked up by any pro teams. He has talent, sure, but the dosser cares more about partying and chasing women.

Normally, I'd spend every moment of the off-season training, but my class load is heavier with final exams coming. Plus, I have Norah now. We don't get to spend nearly as much time together as I would like, but there's nothing to be done about it since she has finals and the play. When we do see each other, it's usually at her house while she's putting together costumes in her sewing room or sitting next to me on the couch studying. Occasionally, I'm lucky enough to help her study for her history class. My favorite part is rewarding her correct answers with a kiss. Kissing Norah is addictive, and so is touching her. I love every single one of her curves. We pump the brakes every time it starts to get too heated, though. I want her more than my next breath, but it's not the right time yet. We've made it to a couple of other dance lessons that seem to be helping, but I just don't want to risk setting her back because of my inability to keep my hands to myself.

"What do you have left to do for the costumes?" I ask her, flopping onto the couch.

It's Friday night, and we just got back to Norah's after getting a quick pint at Paddy's and checking in with him. It's become sort of a ritual for us. Even with our packed schedules, we still make it a point to go once a week.

Norah sits down next to me, stretches her arms above her head, and groans. "I think I finished the last dress today, actually. I'll have to go back and reinspect it, but the hard parts are done. Anything from here on out will just be touch-ups or small alterations."

I try and fail to keep my eyes off of the exposed skin of her stomach.

She clears her throat. "Eyes up here, Kennedy."

"How can you expect me to not admire God's handiwork when it's right in front of me?" I ask innocently.

Norah rolls her eyes and readjusts her shirt. "You're ridiculous."

"And you need to learn to accept a compliment, love."

She sticks her tongue out at me, and that's all it takes for me to lunge for her. I grip her hips and pull her into my lap. She squeals in alarm but doesn't protest once she's straddling me.

She pushes her hair out of her face and playfully glares at me. "Is there a reason you pulled me over here?"

"Aye. There is. When I compliment you, I mean it," I tell her seriously, cupping her cheek with one hand and brushing her stomach with my fingertips.

Norah shivers at the touch and slides her arms around my neck. "I know you do."

My brow furrows as I ask, "Then why am I ridiculous?"

She shrugs. "You're not. I just have a hard time seeing what you see, I guess."

"There's not one thing about you that I don't find beautiful, Norah," I tell her, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her towards me. I lightly kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear.

"Eamon," she breathes.

"Yes, love?" I murmur while pressing soft kisses down her neck to her shoulder and back up again. When I reach her earlobe, I nip it gently with my teeth.

She sucks in a breath and curls her fingers in my hair. "Show me," Norah whispers.

I freeze, then pull back slowly to look into her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, and she doesn't show a single sign of hesitation.

"What?" I ask stupidly.

She trails a hand down my chest to my stomach and continues lower still. She stops at the waistband of my jeans, her fingers are slightly trembling, and her breathing is heavier. She lifts her eyes to mine. "I want you to show me what you see. I want…I want you ."

I'm pretty sure my heart stops beating for a second. Did she just say what I think she said?

"Norah, are you—do you—" I stammer.

She nods slowly, biting her bottom lip then grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head before tossing it on the ground.

Holy. Fuck.

She's perfect. A goddess in jeans and a black lacy bra is straddling me right now, telling me she wants me. I've died and gone to heaven. Mouth gaping like a fish out of water, I struggle to speak. Finally, I clear my throat and manage to tear my gaze from her chest and back to her eyes.

My hands tighten slightly on her hips. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she breathes, leaning in and pressing herself against my chest. "I'm one hundred percent sure. I want this. I want you."

Then she kisses me. Gently at first, but as my hands skim from her waist to her ribs, the kiss deepens, our tongues colliding and winding around each other. Her hands knot in my hair as my palms glide over her back. I'm not making any move to unhook her bra. Yet. I'm savoring every moment while making sure she's still in control.

When she starts to slowly rock her hips back and forth over me, my brain short circuits, and I make a guttural noise in the back of my throat as I feel her heat through our clothes. This must encourage her, because her hands leave my hair and snake down to my waistband, never breaking the kiss. I'm vibrating in my skin as she hesitantly grips the bottom of my shirt and begins to slowly pull it up my torso. I drag my mouth from hers long enough to yank it all the way off before crushing her to me again in a searing kiss, my hands splayed across her back. The feel of her skin on mine is euphoric. It's better than I ever expected. Tearing away again, I pepper her with kisses from her neck to her shoulder and lick a path back up, repeating on the other side because fair is fair.

"Eamon," Norah gasps, her hands roaming all over my chest and stomach. I freeze when they go lower suddenly remembering I don't have any condoms with me.

"Wait," I say, grabbing her wrists to halt her creeping fingers. "Protection? I didn't bring…"

"I'm on the pill," she cuts me off. "And I haven't been with anyone since…"

Swallowing down the rage that the mention of Norah's assault brings, I brush a tendril of her auburn curls from her face. "I'm clean. It's been nearly a year since my last time."

Norah narrows her eyes at me before grabbing both sides of my face and devouring my mouth, sucking my tongue between her teeth and nipping my bottom lip. Growling, I stand up, hands cupping her round arse and she wraps her legs around me tightly. I stalk towards her bedroom and, once inside, I gently slide her down my body until her feet touch the floor. I pull back to gauge her mental state, not wanting to push this any further if she's not ready. But what I see there isn't fear. It's passion and trust. She's trusting me with her body, and I plan to worship it like she deserves .

Norah

I'm panting as my body burns for the man standing in front of me. Something about his words broke down the last of my defenses, and I want to show him exactly how I feel. So I move a hand behind my back, unhook my bra, and let it slip from my arms to the floor.

"Christ Almighty," Eamon breathes reverently.

He lifts a slightly trembling hand to trail his fingers from my collarbone down to the swell of my right breast before gently cupping it. When he brushes the calloused pad of his thumb over my nipple, goosebumps break out over my skin as molten lava descends to the apex of my thighs. I moan in response and my body arches into the touch rather than freezing in fear.

He closes what little space is between us. "We'll go slow," he whispers against my mouth. "And if at any point you want to stop, just tell me and I will."

My heart is pounding so hard that I can barely hear myself think, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he means every word he just said. I loop my arms around his neck and nod before saying, "Now stop talking and kiss me."

Eamon doesn't waste a second claiming my mouth again. His hands skim down my sides, over my hips, then grip the back of my thighs before scooping me up again and carrying me to the bed. Laying me down gently, his lips roam from my mouth to my neck, kissing and nipping as he makes his way lower. He takes my nipple into his mouth and rolls it gently between his teeth before tracing it with his tongue.

"Oh God…" I gasp, spearing my fingers into his hair.

Laughing softly against my skin, he moves to the other nipple, repeating the same motions. My body is writhing beneath his, and when he sinks further down my torso, my breath hitches in my throat.

Eamon lifts his head at the sound, "Do you want me to stop?"

I huff a laugh. "Don't you fucking dare." He sits back on his legs, and I whine, propping myself up on my elbows, "I said not to stop. What are you doing?"

Raising a brow, he slides his hand down the valley between my breasts and lower until he reaches the waistband of my jeans. His beautiful mouth tilts into a smirk as he pops the button and tugs the zipper down.

"Oh," I breathe out.

Slowly, almost tortuously, he peels my jeans off and tosses them on the floor. His gaze pores over every inch of me like a blind man seeing light for the first time, and he bites his lower lip before finding my eyes with his.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on," he whispers longingly before dipping back down to kiss my stomach.

Lazily, he travels farther and farther south. The closer he gets to my core, the more I squirm. I'm overwhelmed by the sensation of the scruff of his beard on my body, but that's nothing compared to the way his tongue traces the skin just above my panties. My hips buck slightly at the contact, and I whimper for more.

"I'm taking these off now, love," he says, raising his eyes to mine before hooking his fingers through the sides and pulling.

When they reach my knees, he stands to slide them all the way off, then grabs my left foot and begins planting kisses from my ankle to my inner thigh, my heart thundering as he inches closer and closer to my center. He's almost where I want him most when he stops and switches to the other foot. I groan in frustration.

"You're killing me here," I whine, never taking my eyes off him. The way his muscles bunch with every movement is mesmerizing.

Grinning, he says, "Good things come to those who wait, lass." Then he runs a hand over my hip bone, towards my chest, pressing gently. "Now lay back and let me show you."

Is it possible to combust just by listening to his deep brogue? Everything about this man drives me crazy in the best ways. I always thought the first time I slept with someone, consensually, I'd be terrified and have a panic attack, but there's no room for fear while Eamon is touching me. I am, however, feeling quite impatient as his breath fans over me. I run my fingers into his dark hair to direct him where I need him, but I don't get the chance.

"Oh my— fuck ," I cry out when his tongue finally tastes me.

My hands fist tightly in his hair, making him grunt, but he doesn't stop. If anything, he goes deeper. Reaching under me to lift my hips, he brings me closer to his mouth than I thought possible. Each stroke of his tongue is deliberate as if he's savoring me. When he flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue before latching on and sucking gently, the sound that comes out of me is more animal than human. I'm hanging on the precipice of release when I feel him ease a finger inside me, then another, carefully stretching my inner walls. He plunges them in and out in a steady rhythm, bringing me closer and closer until I'm moaning louder and louder. Rotating his wrist, he curls a finger forward, brushing that elusive spot, and I shatter. Mind-blowing pleasure courses through me, unlike anything I've ever experienced. He doesn't stop while I ride out my high and drift back to earth.

When my body stops shaking, he kisses and licks his way back up to my throat, where he presses his lips gently. I grip his face and bring his mouth to mine in a slow kiss that conveys all of the emotions I can't put into words. My hand drifts down his chest, wedging between us to unbutton his jeans and he pulls back to look at me, silently asking, once again, if this is what I want. I answer by sliding my hand into his boxers and wrapping my hand around his cock. He jerks and lets out a husky laugh that makes me preen with satisfaction. Before I can do more, he's moving off me to stand at the foot of the bed.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch him remove the rest of his clothing, appreciating every curve and ridge of his muscular body. My gaze stops briefly on the tattoo inked into his left pec. It's a complicated design of Celtic knots and what looks to be a family crest. I'll have to ask him about that later. Much later. Right now, I'm gawking at what's below the waist. He felt huge in my hand, but actually seeing it…well, I expected to be scared, but all I feel is pure lust at seeing him in all of his glory.

He climbs onto the bed and crawls over my body, nudging my thighs apart with his knees. With one arm braced on the left side of my head, he cups my cheek with the opposite hand before dipping his head to kiss me again. Just like before, it morphs from a small spark to an all-encompassing fire. His hand falls from my face, fingers dancing down my body until his thumb finds my still-sensitive clit, making me whimper with need. His length presses against me and my hips roll instinctively.

"Please," I beg against his mouth.

Palming his cock, he positions himself against my entrance. His breath coming fast, he raises his head to look into my eyes. "Last chance to stop, darlin'."

I shake my head. "I don't want to stop. Please, Eamon."

Crushing his mouth to mine, he plunges his tongue past my lips as he pushes himself inside of me, inch by inch. A muffled groan sounds from my throat, and I tighten my arms around him. Slowly, he begins to rock into me until I'm filled by him.

"Fuck, Norah," he growls. "You feel so good."

The sensation is foreign, but my body quickly adjusts to him as we find our rhythm. I can't keep my hands from roaming all over his body, relishing in the feel of his skin on mine. He's hard everywhere. The more we touch, the more fervent our movements become. As if sensing that I'm getting closer to another release, Eamon thrusts deeper, eliciting small mewls of pleasure from me. He circles my clit with his thumb and dips his mouth to my nipple, sucking hard. That's my undoing. I cry out as another orgasm rips through me. Eamon's breathing becomes ragged, and he thrusts a few more times before finding his own release. With a deep groan, he stills as he comes, then collapses on me, burying his face in my neck.

We lay there panting, our bodies damp with sweat, as I lazily rake my fingers through his hair with one hand while cradling his head to me with the other. My heart is racing, but I feel peaceful. There's not a hint of regret or anxiety, just an overwhelming sense of rightness. He shifts as if to move, and I hold onto him tightly.

"I'm probably crushing you," he says, kissing my neck.

I smile and shake my head. "You're not. Promise. You're like the world's best weighted blanket. "

Eamon laughs, softly at first, then his shoulders shake as his laugh deepens. "Of all the things I expected you to say, love, that was not it."

I can't stop the giggle that bursts from my mouth. "Now I'm curious as to what you expected me to say."

"Something along the lines of, ‘Oh, Eamon, you've completely ruined me for other men. I'll never take another lover for as long as I live!'" His voice pitches higher in mock falsetto.

I'm laughing harder now. "How inconsiderate of me. Please allow me to rephrase that." I clear my throat dramatically and say, "Eamon Kennedy, I thank you for the mind-altering orgasm. I shall never, for the rest of my days, ever be satisfied by another man."

"You're damn right, you won't, Norah Grady," he says playfully at first, but then sobers quickly. "At least, I hope you won't."

I touch my fingertips to his jaw and say, "No, I don't think I will."