Page 107 of Irish Betrayal

He left her body long enough to flip her over, pulling her to her knees. Blair went crazy in this position. She said sex with him was like riding a rollercoaster. Every time he moved her around, the ride changed, and her body craved the thrill.

He couldn’t tell where her backward momentum began, and his forward thrusts ended; they were both just taking and giving. The pull between them still shocked Daniel.

As he watched himself disappear over and over again into her body, he knew he’d replay the image of Blair taking him so good.

Blair began to shake and clench around his length, close to orgasm. His hands on her hips tightened, his thumbs digging into her ass cheeks hard enough to bruise as he took her faster, setting a furious pace. He was close too.

She went off, her hoarse cry muffled by the sheets where her head had dropped. His hoarse shout followed as his own release mixed with hers.

He slowly pulled out, giving her round little ass a slap before collapsing next to her. She instantly made herself comfortable, draping most of her body over his, crossing her arms on his chest to hold her head where she could read his lips if he spoke.

Blair smiled lazily. “My vagina appreciates your service.”

Daniel grinned back, already regretting their friends interrupting what could have been a day spent in bed. He tapped the end of her nose. “My dick appreciates your appreciation,” he said, laughing.

“We should probably get ready for our friends. I guess I’ll start the shower,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“That’s my girl,” Daniel replied, chucking underneath her chin. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he could tell that something had changed for Blair. Her body stiffened, and she started to pull away.

Daniel caught her before she could slip from his arms. “Hey, what’s all this?” he asked, touching her cheek in question where a stray tear tracked over her freckles.

“It’s nothing,” she signed, not looking him in the eyes.

He tapped her arm to get her attention, and when he had it, “It’s something, Blair. Tell me. Please.”

“My girl,” she said.

Daniel reared back, unsure what she was telling him. My girl. He’d called her my girl. “Aren’t you my girl?” he asked, confused.

She shook her head several times and rubbed her eyes, but she finally looked Daniel in the eyes. “He called me that.”

fifty-four

BLAIR

“Dagr now tosses me food like I’m an animal at the zoo,” Bébhinn complained, rubbing her, in all honesty, hugely swollen belly. The fact that she was tossing peanuts in her mouth wasn’t helping with the visual.

“He’s probably afraid you’ll bite his fingers off if he gets too close,” Mags announced unnecessarily.

“You are an asshole, Mags. Always have been, always will be,” Bébhinn growled, snatching a miniature apple tartlet from the huge spread that one of the O’Faolain chefs had spent all morning preparing.

Blair was smiling, laughing, and hopefully contributing appropriate conversation where expected. Inside, she felt like melty fudge, gooey, gross, and disappointing.

There were days Blair didn’t think about Peter…or Mindy, and days she thought of nothing else. Horror and humiliation hounded her steps on those days.

Her face still burned from that morning. When Daniel had called her “My girl,” it had shaken her to her core.

At that moment, she remembered Peter’s hateful comments. Ones that she’d swallowed as truth.

“You’re mine.”

“No man could ever want you except for me.”

“You don’t have a woman’s body.”

“You sound weird when you speak.”

“Too much work.”