The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

cheek. When he smiled, when he circled her, she slid her hand from his shoulder into his hair, and keeping her eyes on his, rose to her toes to press her lips warmly to his.
    This time it was his body that jerked. She ruled the kiss, taking him unawares, moving it from warm to hot, from soft to deep, sighing so that his mouth, his blood, his brain were filled with the taste of her.
    Staggered, he fisted his hand at the back of her blouse and let her strip his mind clean.
    “Looks as if it’s past time for me to leave.”
    Aidan lifted his head. “Lock up as you go, Shawn,” he said without taking his eyes off Jude’s face.
    “I will. Good night to you, Jude.”
    “Good night, Shawn.”
    Whistling now, he clicked locks and discreetly closed thedoor behind him while Aidan and Jude stood in the middle of the freshly mopped floor.
    “I have a terrible need for you.” He drew the hand he still held to his mouth, kissed it.
    “I’m so glad.”
    “It makes it hard, now and again, to be gentle.”
    “Then don’t be.” Excitement spurted through her in one hot gush. Thrilled with her own boldness, she stepped back and began unbuttoning her blouse. “You can be whatever you want. Have whatever you want.”
    She’d never undressed in front of a man, not in a way designed to arouse. But the nerves that jumped in her belly were tangled with excitement, then swallowed by pure female delight as she saw his eyes go dark.
    The black lace bra was cut low, an erotic contrast against the milky skin it was designed to showcase.
    “Jesus.” He let out an unsteady breath. “You’re trying to kill me.”
    “Just seduce you.” She toed off her shoes. “It’s a first for me.” More from inexperience than design, she slowly unhooked her trousers. “So . . . I hope you’ll excuse any missteps.”
    His mouth went dry with anticipation of what was next. “I see nothing missing at all. Seems to me you’re a natural at it.”
    Her fingers were a little stiff, but she pried them away and let the trousers fall. More black lace, an excuse for a triangle that veed down over the belly and rose high on the hips.
    She hadn’t had the nerve to try the matching garter and sheer black hose Darcy had talked her into, but seeing the expression on Aidan’s face, she thought she would next time.
    “I did a lot of shopping today.”
    He wasn’t sure he could speak. She stood in the pub lights, her hair tidied back, her sea goddess eyes dreamy, wearing nothing but black lace that screamed sex.
    Which part of her was a man supposed to listen to?
    “I’m afraid to touch you.”
    Jude braced herself, then stepped out of the trousers and toward him. “Then I’ll touch you.” Heart hammering, she slid her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his.
    It was so arousing to press up against him when she was all but naked and he still fully dressed. It was so powerful to feel his body quiver against hers as if he were fighting some fierce and violent urge.
    It was so freeing to realize she wanted him to set that fierceness, that violence, loose.
    “Take me, Aidan.” She nipped his bottom lip and all but slithered against him. “Take whatever you want.”
    He heard his own control snap like a cannon boom inside his head. He knew he was rough and could do nothing about it as his hands bruised and his mouth feasted. Her gasp of shock was only more fuel as he dragged her to the floor.
    He rolled with her, wild to have his hands on her, everywhere. Mad for more, he closed lips and teeth over the lace at her breast.
    She arched up, bowed with pleasure, tingling from the nip of pain. It was power that flooded into her, the punch of the knowledge that she had pushed him beyond the civilized.
    Just by being. Just by offering.
    As crazed as he to touch, she tugged and tore at his shirt until she had her hands on flesh.
    Then her lips, then her teeth.
    Hot and frantic, with greedy hands they drove each other, pleased and pleasured. This wasn’t the patient man and theshy woman, but two who had stripped down to the primitive. She gloried in it, absorbing each sharp sensation and fighting to give it back.
    The first orgasm burst through her like a sun.
    More was all he could think. More and still more. He wanted to eat her alive, to devour so that the suddenly wild taste of her would always be inside him. Each time her body shuddered, each time she cried out, he thought again. And again and again.
    The need to mate was a fever in his