“You’ll see.” They set their plates on the coffee table, then dropped down to sit on the blanket she’d spread out.
Emmy started to reach for her meal and a fork, but Padraig shook his head. “Not yet.”
Her heart rate increased when he began to unbutton her blouse. “Naked dinner?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless.
“One of us is going to be naked.”
“What about you?” Emmy’s gaze narrowed.
“We’ll get to me later.”
She shook her head, but Padraig ignored her, continuing to strip off her clothing, her blouse and bra tossed to the side of the blanket before he urged her to her knees so he could unzip her skirt and tug it down her hips.
“Slip off your shoes,” he said.
Emmy did as he requested, then reached out, intent on removing his clothes as well. He caught her wrists before she could touch him.
“Bad girl,” he murmured, his tone suddenly deliciously dark and sexy.
“Paddy,” she whispered, hearing the slight whine in her voice.
“You’re mine, Emmy. Tonight, you’re all mine.”
She licked her lips, turned on by the possessiveness in his gaze. She leaned forward, needing more from him. With her hands still captive in his, all she could do was attempt to steal a kiss.
Padraig tugged her away from him when he shifted her hands from her front to her back. She struggled briefly when she felt him loop the necktie around her wrists.
“What—”
“Bondage, remember?”
When she’d played that fantasy out, she’d always seen herself in bed, her wrists bound to the headboard.
“But I—”
“Shh.” Padraig knotted the tie and released her.
Emmy couldn’t resist trying to tug her hands free. She realized he hadn’t lied about his experience with bondage. The knot held.
With her arms secured behind her back, her breasts were thrust out, something Padraig took advantage of. He lowered his head, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.
Her head fell back, her entire body tingling when he reached out and pinched the other nipple. “God, Paddy,” she breathed.
He lifted his head, smiling widely, as he picked up her plate. “You said something about feeding each other?”
She twisted slightly to show him her bound hands. “I think that’s going to be a little difficult for me at the moment.”
Padraig shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re doing this my way.” He lifted one of the shrimp she’d ordered, from her plate, running it along her lower lip, her mouth watering over the scent of butter and Old Bay.
“Open up,” he prompted.
She did so, allowing him to pop the shrimp into her mouth. She chewed slowly, then swallowed as he watched. Then he lowered his head and licked the trace of butter left behind on her lips.
“Delicious,” he murmured.
Padraig picked up one of the fingerling potatoes next, offering her half, before taking the second half himself. The next time he offered her a shrimp, she took it and one of his fingers inside her mouth, sucking the butter from it seductively, loving the way Padraig’s eyes darkened with desire.
He continued to feed her—and himself—from both of their plates until Emmy insisted she was too full for another bite. Between the two of them, they’d polished off her shrimp, his crab cake, half the potatoes, and most of the asparagus. Twice, he’d drawn the tip of the asparagus, drizzled with a cream sauce, around her nipple before sucking it off. It was hands-down the most erotic meal she’d ever consumed. Padraig kissed her throughout, the two of them sharing everything they tasted.
The entire meal had been eaten from his fingers, with her naked and him fully dressed, which Emmy found ridiculously sexy.
“Don’t move,” Padraig said, rising with the plates. He took them to the kitchen and she listened as he washed his hands. When he returned, he didn’t rejoin her on the blanket. Instead, he stood before her.
Emmy’s gaze drifted to the bulge beneath his dress pants, and she licked her lips.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Emmy.”
He was the only man to ever make her feel that way. Padraig made her want to do wild, wicked, wanton things. He gave her the confidence to actually try the things she’d only ever been daring enough to write down.
She pushed herself up onto her knees, her legs splayed, her submissive pose not lost on either of them.
Padraig unfastened his pants, slowly pulling down the zipper. She wasn’t the only one who’d gone out to dinner commando. He winked at her when she realized he’d bypassed the boxer briefs.
Once his pants were open, he reached in and drew out his erect cock. “Look at me,” he demanded. “Let me see your eyes when you take me into your mouth.”
Emmy followed his command, resisting the urge to close her legs in search of some sort of stimulation. If her hands were free, she’d touch herself. She was too turned on, too needy.
Padraig guided the head of his cock to her lips and she parted them, her tongue darting out, teasing, tasting. His hands drifted to her hair, his fists closing around it as he pressed in deeper.
“I’m never going to get enough of you.”
She felt the same way.
Padraig used his grip on her hair to set the pace, the depth. Emmy clenched her bound hands together, her eyes never leaving his.
She could sense he was getting close, his breathing more halting. Just before he came, he withdrew.
“No,” she said, but Padraig was already leaning over, his hands beneath her arms, lifting her. Her world went topsy-turvy when he spun her around, bending her over the arm of his couch.
He wasted no time, driving inside her. The gentle lover from the night before had vanished, all traces gone, as Padraig took her like a man possessed.
Reaching around her waist, he found her clit, stroking it until she saw stars. Emmy closed her eyes tightly, her toes clenching as an orgasm crashed over her with the force of an avalanche.
“Holy shit,” she cried out.
Padraig was just two strokes behind her, his hands gripping her hips tightly, holding her in place as he came inside her.
“Emmy. Jesus, Emmy.”
She sank down, her cheek pressed against the couch cushion, Padraig’s body folded over hers, his chest against her bare back.
She belatedly realized he was still essentially dressed, his shirt in place, his pants open but on.
They remained that way for a few minutes, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Then she felt the tie on her wrists give way. Padraig helped her stand, his hands on her shoulders, massaging them before turning her and pulling her into his embrace.
He kissed the top of her head. “Just so you know, that was only the beginning. We’re knocking a few more things off that list tonight because I’m not finished with you. Not by a long shot.”
She stretched up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Good,” she said softly. Then she moved until her lips touched his ear, and she whispered something so softly, she wasn’t sure he heard, especially when he frowned, confused.
Then the light went on, and Padraig smiled widely, his gaze finding hers. “Is that…?”
“My pen name,” she murmured. “And since we’re knocking things off our list, I feel like I should tell you, I regret walking to the storeroom closet willingly after you threatened to throw me over your shoulder.”