Luck of the Irish (8 page)

Maggie wanted more.

Declan, as though reading her mind, captured her lips with his and dove deep in a hot, searing kiss that stole her breath. She opened her legs further and sighed into his mouth as the heavy, hot weight of him covered her. Her brain and body were on overload and before she could fully register one moan-inducing sensation another swiftly replaced it.

She clung to him, her fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his back as his chest crushed against her breasts leaving her breathless with need and aching with desire.

He smelled of earth and rain. Wild and free. There was nothing, no one but the two of them as he surrounded her completely.

Declan broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her throat along the curve of her breasts, and for a moment Maggie thought he was going to trick her and try to take the amulet. However, he moved right past it nudging it aside so he could pay thorough attention to her breast. Maggie relaxed into his touch. She tangled her fingers in his hair, still damp from the shower. She watched as he moved lower, placing kisses on her belly before finally stopping at the edge of her yoga pants.

He dropped to his knees at the end of the bed and grasped her hips pulling her a bit closer to edge. Maggie was shaking and her flesh felt like it was on fire or alive, as though it was separate from herself. It had to be. How could plain, old Maggie O’Malley feel this wickedly decadent? She bent her knees and settled her heels on the edge of the mattress, and Declan grinned at her from between her legs while hooking his thumbs beneath the edge of the thin, black fabric.

“Lay still for me, Maggie.” He peeled the fabric from her sensitive flesh and as each inch of skin was revealed Declan sprinkled more kisses. “So lovely,” he murmured. “Like porcelain or the finest china. Delicate and perfect.”

Tight with anticipation and simmering with need Maggie propped herself up on her elbows and grasped the thick comforter in her sweaty hands as Declan laid her bare before him.

Exposed. Vulnerable. Desired.

He made her feel all of that and more. Somewhere in the back of her mind that little voice warned her. Don’t let your heart get involved. He’s leaving and never coming back. Take this for what it is. One night of hot sex with a magical man—nothing more.

Declan tossed the leggings aside and ran both hands along her thighs before latching his arms around her hips and anchoring her to the bed. She whimpered when he pressed a hot kiss along the quivering flesh that lead to her heated center. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat as she waited for what was surely to come next.

“Now, lass, I have to see if ya taste as sweet as ya smell.” Declan’s silvery gaze glinted at her as he gently blew over her slick, swollen folds. Maggie was so tight, so ready for his touch that she shivered with pleasure when the subtle shift in the air brushed over her clit. “That’s it. I want to see ya when I give ya pleasure, and I want to hear my name on your lips when you come.”

Maggie let out a cry of pure ecstasy when Declan’s hot, wet mouth covered her, and his tongue rasped over her in one tortuously slow pass. She held his gaze as he lapped at the tiny nub working her into a frenzy and driving her to orgasm with incredible speed. It was intensely erotic to look him in the eye while they were being this intimate, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Maggie had never felt more connected with anyone in her life.

Another wave of pleasure fired through her when he slipped his tongue inside her before once again flicking her clit in quick strokes. Her back arched as she tumbled closer and closer to the edge of the abyss.

This couldn’t end yet. It was too good, too sweet to come to an end. She wanted the two of them to linger in the delicious haze of pleasure all night.

“Wait,” she said between huffing breaths. Maggie tangled her fingers in his hair again and urged him to stop. “Not yet. I want you inside me. Please, Declan.”

“Your wish is my command,” he growled.

Maggie smiled as he climbed on the bed and settled himself between her legs before kissing her deeply. He slipped one arm beneath her back and cradled her face with his other hand. She thought he would take her right then, but he didn’t. Instead, he moved with lighting fast speed and flipped over so that she was straddling him.

She let out a shriek and laughed as her hands settled on the firm muscles of his chest which rippled beneath her fingers as though in invitation. Declan’s strong hands grasped her hips and held her to him. The thick heat of his cock pressed along the slick seam of her sex. Maggie braced herself on his shoulders and rocked her hips in one slow stroke while holding his heavily, lidded gaze. Declan shuddered as she rubbed her pussy over him in almost painfully slow passes.

“Are ya tryin’ to kill me, Maggie?” Declan bit the words out and his fingers dug deeper into her hips. “Are ya wantin’ to see a grown man beg?”

“No.” She shook her head and lifted her hips, hovering above him so that the tip of his engorged shaft brushed her hot entrance. She licked her lower lip and fought to catch her breath. “No begging and no more waiting. I think we’ve both waited long enough.”

Before the last word escaped her lips on a hiss, Maggie sank onto his shaft and buried him deep inside her. Then she began to move. Holding his gaze she rotated her hips grinding herself against him, heightening his pleasure and her own. Each pass put delicious pressure on her clit and had her chasing the orgasm that started from the moment she met him.

Pure, white-hot pleasure seared Maggie’s body. She threw her arms over her head, closed her eyes, and surrendered to everything. As the orgasm coiled deep in her core Declan sat up, wrapped one arm around her waist, and held her to him before flipping her over onto her back once again.

“I have to get deeper, Maggie,” he growled. “I want all of ya, lass. Every bit.”

Maggie nodded and moaned when he started to pump. Slowly at first as though savoring every single whisper of flesh rushing against flesh, but it didn’t take long for the clawing need of lust to take them both over once again.

He lifted her knee as he drove into her, fucking her hard and fast, and Maggie held on for dear life. Opening her legs as far as they would go she scratched her fingernails down his back and shouted his name as her orgasm erupted. Her muscles seized, and in one final thrust Declan called to her as his own pleasure took him over the edge.

Declan collapsed on top of her but did not allow all of his weight to crush her, and braced his elbows on either side of her head. Weak and completely sated Maggie laid beneath him enjoying the feel of his sweaty flesh melded against her own, and listened to the combined sound of the two of them as they struggled to steady their breathing.

“That,” Maggie huffed against his shoulder, “... was... awesome.”

“I’d thank ya,” Declan murmured into the curve of her neck, “... but I think that’d be rude.”

In spite of the intensely intimate situation, Maggie giggled and once she started she couldn’t stop. Before she knew it the two of them were laughing almost to the point of tears, until they were breathless once again.

Declan rolled off her and pulled her naked, sweaty body into his arms, and as the comforting pull of sleep drifted over her Maggie finally believed in the luck of the Irish.

T
he sun streamed into the room and Maggie blinked against it as she woke from the best sleep of her life. Declan’s warm, nude body was curled up behind her and they were snuggled beneath the covers as though they’d done it a thousand times. His big arm was draped over her, and his leg was curled over hers as though claiming her once and for all.

But he wasn’t, was he? Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and fought the sting of tears. How stupid to get upset over this she scolded herself silently. She knew he was never going to stay and yesterday he made it clear he didn’t want her to come. Then why did she feel so shitty?

“Mornin’, Miss Maggie.” Declan’s deep voice rumbled behind her and he pressed a kiss to her ear. “I can honestly tell ya that was the nicest evenin’ I’ve had in centuries.”

“Very funny.” She elbowed him. “I haven’t been in a mirrored prison, but I feel the same way.”

“Ya can cook and are a vixen in the bed.” Declan pressed another kiss to her cheek and whispered, “Is there anything ya can’t do, Ms. O’Malley?”

Silence hung between them for three beats of her heart.

“Babies,” she said quietly. “I can’t have children.”

“Can ya not?” Declan played with a long strand of her hair in a painfully sweet, soothing gesture. “Do ya want one? A wee babe of your own?”

“I don’t know. Maybe if I still had my parents or siblings or something it wouldn’t feel so...
final
.” She let out a growl of frustration before shifting her body so she could look him in the face. The empathy in his eyes almost did her in because she expected to find pity there. But she didn’t. All she saw was tenderness and acceptance. “I don’t know why I told you that. I mean, nobody knows about that. Not even my friend, Alex, and she’s about the only person I really have in my life. I guess you’re safe because you’re leaving soon anyway.”

Declan opened his mouth to respond, but Maggie slapped her hand over it preventing him from saying anything.

“Don’t say a word. Really, it’s fine, Declan.” His brow knitted together and he looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. “I’m losing it.”

Maggie kissed his forehead before climbing out of bed and going to her dresser. She kept talking because it made her feel a little less crazy while she pulled on a little, white, silk nightie from the top drawer.

“You know if my Aunt Lizzie were here she’d scold me and say,
Maggie McGregor O’Malley, ya stop feelin’ sorry for your wee self this minute. Ya have the luck of the Irish girl, and Irish eyes should always be smilin’.
The woman loved a good cliché.”

When she turned around she discovered Declan standing behind her and staring at her with a look that could only be described as stunned.

“What?” She folded her arms over her breasts and stepped back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ya have the name McGregor?” he asked gruffly. “’Tis a family name?”

“Yes.” Her hand went instinctively to the amulet around her neck. “Well, sort of. My aunt, the one who told me the stories about you and the necklace, she wasn’t really an aunt, more like a good family friend. My Aunt Lizzie and my grandmother had known each other for years.”

“This aunt, she was a McGregor, then?”

“Yes,” Maggie said slowly. “Elizabeth McGregor.”

“
Mac Soith
,” he said in a rush. “Do ya have a picture of her?”

“Sure, but why?”

“A picture, lass,” Declan said firmly. He must have noticed the wide-eyed look on her face because he immediately softened his tone. “I beg ya.”

Maggie went to her desk and grabbed the simple silver frame with the photo of her and Aunt Lizzie at Maggie’s college graduation. She handed it to Declan, and when all the color drained from his face a nagging sense of dread pulled at her.

“What is it?”

“She gave ya the amulet?” He asked quietly. “And told ya the story of Anastasia and me? Of the mirror? All of it?”

“Yes.” Maggie fiddled with the necklace and sat on the bed, suddenly feeling unsteady on her feet. “She passed away last summer. Would you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“She was Malachi’s wife.” Declan placed the frame on the desk before turning his earnest face to Maggie. “Your Aunt Lizzie was a witch.”

***

T
o say that Declan was stunned would be an understatement. The elderly woman in the photo may not have looked like she did when Declan knew her, but there was no mistaking those eyes. They were just like the eyes of his beloved Anastasia and his wee daughter.

“Declan?” Maggie’s sweet voice, gentle and persistent, pulled him from his thoughts. “Are you telling me that my Aunt Lizzie, the one from Ireland who my grandmother knew since
God was a boy...
was Anastasia’s mother?”

“Would seem so,” he said quietly. Declan handed the frame back to Maggie and ran both hands through his hair before going to the mirror that had once been his prison. “And ya say she’s died?”

“Yes.” Maggie nodded and moved in next to him. “You know,” she said with a laugh. I should probably freak out and be shocked by this revelation but I’m not. It all makes sense now. Why she told me the story all of these years and left me the necklace in her will. She wanted me to find you, Declan, and free you.”

“But why?” Declan’s brow furrowed and a thousand questions raced through his head, but one stuck out above all the rest. Anger shimmied up his back and his muscles tensed as though anticipating the answer before even asking the question out loud. “What of her husband? And how did that damned mirror end up leaving the castle anyway?”

“I wish I knew. Lizzie said that he died years ago back in Ireland, but I don’t know any details. She never really talked about him, and when she did she seemed really sad. She also never mentioned a daughter. I was under the impression that she never had any children.” Maggie picked up the photo and ran her finger over the image and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I guess I didn’t really know her at all, did I?”

“Ya knew her better than most I’m sure.” Declan took the frame from Maggie and placed it on the desk before gathering her hands in his. “And I’m grateful for it. Without Elizabeth’s gift, I’d still be in that damned prison.” He pulled her against him and brought her fingers to his lips pressing a kiss to them. “I’m grateful for ya, Maggie, in all ways.”

“Me, too.” She popped up on her toes and kissed him gently, almost reverently, before pulling her hands from his and heading to the hallway. She flicked a glance to his nakedness and gave him a sexy grin. “As much as I’d love to keep you naked all the time I should get your clothes. You have a little girl to see.”

Maggie vanished around the corner and Declan’s heart clenched in his chest at the idea of leaving... leaving her. He was not so daft as to say he’d fallen in love with the lass, but he also knew he wasn’t ready to be without her. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But would it be fair to take her with him to a realm where she would never be accepted? And would she even want to go?