Page 51 of Intimately Faithful

Drinking water that was bland.

Breathing air that took only existence to his body.

Tasting Aoife was life.

He crushed her lips. Had to. No other choice.

He was a broken man looking for the glue to put himself back together and holy fuck,he was horny.

When their kiss ended, his head was definitely swimming.

Her fingers clawed at him, just as they always had. Desperate for more. She was instantly impatient the moment they started kissing. Grown up Aoife had inherited the trait when she dragged at his shirt for him to give her his mouth again.

“This was your plan, was it? To seduce me at my place of work?”

She nuzzled her lips all over his face and for the life of him, Danny couldn’t think of anything else other than where her lips would land next and splitting her legs open to feel how warm and welcoming she was right there.

She moaned and he savored the noise. Owning it once more.

“What was I to do when I missed you so much?” Hair, red as crimson rubies bounced around her face, making her appear angelic with the dusting of freckles highlighting her cheekbones.

She was ever beautiful, but there was always something ethereal about Aoife, a light he’d been attracted to from birth. Almost as if she’d been otherworldly sent to this earth for his pleasure and torment alone.

Mine.And no one else can have her.

That had been his thought from the first moment he could string together coherent words.

And the thought hadn’t changed, only grown in tempo and conviction.

He’d let her go once and had no intention of ever being that magnanimous again.

Truth be told, he’d run so far with his tail between his legs. So young—unable to cope with that kind of heartbreak, only to realize there’d been a bigger reason behind it.

And then Danny’s life turned to shit for a long time after, making it that much easier for him to compartmentalize the part of his soul that was all his Aoife.

But if that same situation happened today?

Every fiber in his body screamed possession at him.

He knew he’d fight down and dirty as only a Murphy could, to win his ginger Galway girl.

No amount of wealth or status would make him back down.

He’d sell his soul to the devil himself if he had to.Sorry, God.

He had a feeling God would understand.

If not, it would be something else they could talk about later in his prayers.

There was no denying his want.

No locking it behind a door and ignoring its existence.

It was free and demanding satisfaction.

Not when he grew winded looking down at her serene smile.

He kissed her nose and drew back with the last vestige of control he still had.