Texan's Irish Bride by Clemmons Caroline

Author:Clemmons, Caroline
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: adventure, family saga, horses, historical, halfbreed, cherokee, culture clash, texan, rancher, irish travelers, irish woman, 1885 texas

Chapter Ten

“God almighty, Vourneen, you’ve got me hot as fire.” Mac pressed himself against her, and she braced herself against the trunk of a large tree. “No one can see us here. Let me touch you.”

He took her silence as agreement and slid his hand under her skirt, tugging her drawers aside to find the slit. She’d never let him touch her below her waist before, and he wondered if he dared open his britches’ buttons.

She pushed her blouse down to give him access to her breasts. He suckled, and she played with her other hardened nipple, pushing it against his cheek. When his fingers touched her mound of curls, she moaned, and he pushed his finger into her.

She clutched at his shoulders. “That’s good. Yes, yes, do it more.” She panted and pushed into him. “Harder. Oh, oh.”

Her breathing quickened, and her hips moved in cadence with his finger. He wondered no one heard the pounding of his heart and came to investigate. Her movements intensified until her body racked with shudders. She sagged against the tree trunk.

“Mac, it was grand.” She pulled the blouse up and secured the ties.

He captured her hand. “Do the same for me?” He pressed her hand against his rigid arousal. Even through the fabric her touch near sent him over the edge. He pulled the waistband out and thrust her hand inside.

“Feels funny, your willie does.”

“Grip me and slide your hand up and down.” He claimed her mouth and moved her hand, but she resisted.

“Ew, I don’t like that.”

“Bloody hell, you liked it when I did it for you.”

“Well, I don’t like it now.” She leaned to look around the tree. “I’d better go in, or Da will come looking for me. He doesn’t trust you.”

Mac cursed. “Wait right here then while I finish off.” He stepped behind a tree a few yards away and jacked himself until he spurted his relief, and then cleaned himself with his handkerchief. This woman would kill him yet with her teasing ways.

Mac walked Vourneen back to the McDonald wagon where her mother waited on the step.

Vourneen allowed him to kiss her goodnight as if it were their first, a chaste kiss on her cheek with her mother watching. Good thing her ma hadn’t seen them a few minutes earlier behind the tree.

“Vourneen, ‘tis time you were coming in.” Mrs. McDonald looked at the moon’s location high in the sky and gestured for her daughter to go inside the wagon.

Mac figured it must be close to midnight.

“Good night.” Vourneen wiggled her fingers in a wave and stepped inside.

A driving need for Vourneen had drawn Mac to the camp after Dallas’s kin left. Wasn’t he burning up for her touch? Damn, thinking of her kept his cock hard as an axle. What he wouldn’t give to bury himself inside her.

He figured most people—those buffers who rose early and worked themselves to an early grave—were asleep. That kind o’ life wasn’t for him. Here at the traveling folks’ camp, several men still played cards or shared a jug by the campfire.

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