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  • Home > Samantha Young > On Dublin Street Series > Castle Hill (Page 8)     
    Castle Hill(On Dublin Street #2.5)(8) by Samantha Young
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    My reply caused Braden to tilt his head and ask in obvious surprise, “Really?”

    I snorted and lay back down. “Really.”

    “Well, that’s a good sign.”

    The smile in his voice for some reason caused my stomach to flip. And not in a good way. “What’s a good sign?” I asked, not really sure if I wanted an answer or not.

    “You. Not minding the kids.”

    Yup, I definitely didn’t want the answer.

    “If you don’t mind the noise of other people’s kids, then you’ll definitely not mind the noise our kids will make.”

    He might as well have wrapped his hand around my throat. I tried to swallow past the constriction his words had caused and I knew I had to get up, walk away, do anything, so that I didn’t have a panic attack. So it wouldn’t be obvious he’d freaked me out I waited as long as I could before saying, “You want a drink? I’m going to get a drink.”

    I felt his eyes on me as I shoved on my flip-flops and sunglasses, hurriedly tying my sarong around my waist. Not once did I look at him but I knew from his quiet, “Sure, babe,” I hadn’t been successful in keeping my freak-out to myself.

    The whole time the bartender was making up our drinks the guilt clawed at me. I’d left Braden back there wondering what the hell had happened and if I was shutting him out. That was something I’d promised never to do to him again, and I had to keep that promise. With that in mind I took the drinks back to him and settled back onto my lounger.

    After a few minutes of quiet I said, “Let’s go lie on our deck at the villa.”

    Glancing over at Braden I found him staring at me, his brow puckered in consternation. “Why?”

    I held his gaze and answered pointedly, “Because I like the peace and quiet. I want that for a while yet.”

    Braden drew in a deep breath and slowly sat up to face me. Resting his elbows on his knees he leaned in and asked, “But one day you’ll want the noise, right?”

    My heart started to bang around in my chest at the thought but I nodded tremulously. “Yes. But I just want it to be us for a while.”

    Something dark I didn’t quite understand flashed in his eyes but he kissed me, cupping my face in his hand, and he murmured against my lips, “All right.”

    When he pulled back his eyes moved behind me and he frowned at something. Feeling like there was definitely something off about his acquiescence, I asked, “You okay?”

    I got a reassuring nod and he pulled back, standing up to gather his things.

    Turning, I did the same, shoving my flip-flops back on and bending down to find my e-reader, which I’d hidden under my lounger in the shade.

    “Do you f**king mind?” Braden snapped.

    My head jerked up at his tone and my eyes collided with my neighbor. He was an older man, perhaps in his late forties, early fifties, he wasn’t with anyone, and he was staring in mild amusement over my shoulder at my husband. His eyes flicked to my boobs and then back to Braden.

    Great.

    I didn’t need to look around to know that Braden’s sharp aggression had drawn all of our neighbors’ gazes.

    “Your woman is very beautiful,” the stranger commented in a thick accent.

    I tensed and quickly turned around to face Braden, giving him a shake of my head. “Leave it.”

    He didn’t leave it.

    He gently took hold of my wrist and pulled me behind him so he could lean into the stranger’s face. “My wife is very beautiful. But to you she’s invisible. Understood?”

    The stranger nodded. “Understood.”

    I understood too. I understood I was mortified.

    Not wanting to cause more of a scene, I let Braden hold my hand as we walked up the beach but as soon as we were out of sight I tugged out of his hold.

    “You’re pissed off.” He sighed.

    “Yes, I’m pissed off. There was no need to speak to him that way. It was embarrassing. You were peeing all over me.”

    I heard his snort of laughter but didn’t dare look at him because I was afraid I’d kill him.

    “That arsehole was ogling you all f**king day and ignoring every warning look I gave him. I don’t appreciate another man staring at my wife like he’s imagining f**king her when he knows I’m standing right f**king there.”

    “Is dropping the f-bomb three times really necessary?”

    He sighed, heavily this time. “You’re still pissed off.”

    Yes, I’m still pissed off. “I’m confused. You overreacted and you know you overreacted. I’m just thinking the overreaction had nothing to do with that idiot staring at my br**sts.”

    Instead of agreeing, instead of telling me he was bothered by the unspoken issue that was on our minds, Braden shook his head impatiently and began striding toward the villa without me.

    ***

    Dinner was a quiet affair.

    I’d spent the rest of the afternoon lying by the pool with my headphones on listening to Bastille while Braden took a walk around the resort. By the time he came back I was in the shower. When I got out of the shower to get ready for dinner, he got in. Afterward Braden attempted conversation with me. I grunted answers at him, not so much pissed at him anymore as pissed that he’d given me reason on our honeymoon to be pissed at him.

    He’d scowled at me when I strode out of the walk-in wearing a figure-hugging blue dress. The fabric was a thin, stretchy jersey, so although it covered me, it pretty much left little to the imagination. It was a hot dress and I’d bought it for my hot husband.

    At the time the thought hadn’t been to torture him, but I was pissed, so now it was about torturing him.

    Our walk to dinner was quiet. The night before we’d dined at the Oceanview, a restaurant situated on the beach. Tonight I silently led us to the Great Room in the main house of the resort.

    That silence reigned between us all through dinner.

    The tension between us was thickening and I could tell Braden was losing patience with it. Or me, rather.

    Deciding the best thing for us was to get a good night’s sleep and put the stupid argument behind us, I quietly suggested we leave out drinks tonight and just return to the room. I took his brusque nod as agreement.

    Dinner over, we strolled back to the villa. I kicked off my heels to sink my feet into sand, only reluctantly trailing back onto the landscaped path to our villa, all the while secretly dreading a quiet night in with annoyed silence and no sex.

    Inside the air-conditioned heaven, I threw my heels to the floor and padded on cool tiles toward the bedroom. I heard Braden’s footsteps behind me seconds before I found myself jerked back against his body.

    I gasped at the sudden movement, my breath hitching as one hand coasted roughly up my stomach to cup my breast, while the other gripped lightly to my hair. Braden gently tugged my head back, exposing my neck. Those familiar shivers tingled through me as he kneaded my breast, and pressed hot, wet kisses down the side of my neck.

    Just as abruptly as he’d pulled me to him, Braden pushed me forward until I hit the bed. My torso bowed over the end of it as he nudged my legs open with his feet. In the same motion he slipped his hands under the hem of my tight dress and shoved the fabric upward until it hit me midback, baring my ass to him.

    By this point my breathing was as hot and heavy as his.

    Cool air touched my skin as Braden tugged my panties down. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside, quickly widening my stance again and biting back a moan at the feel of Braden’s erection pressing against my ass.

    His fingers dug into my h*ps as he tormented me with the promise of him.

    “Braden,” I whispered, his name a plea.

    He rubbed his c*ck between my legs, teasing me mercilessly. I rocked back and forth against him until it was too much.

    “Please,” I whimpered.

    I lost his heat, but it was quickly replaced with his strong fingers slipping between my legs and deep inside.

    He groaned to find me already wet and just like that his fingers were gone, a zip sounded, and his c*ck slammed into me. I whimpered again, my chest pressed to the bed, my hands gripping the sheets as Braden held me tight by the h*ps and thrust roughly in and out of me.

    The build started quickly and I found myself rearing back against his dick in desperation.

    “Harder?” he growled.

    “Harder,” I gasped.

    He pumped harder into me and just as I was on the cusp of coming, Braden pulled out, flipped me over onto my back as if I weighed nothing, and took hold of the hem of my dress, pulling it up over my head. He tossed it aside, hurriedly removing his own shirt before gripping my thighs, spreading my legs, and jerking me toward him so only my back was pressed against the bed.

    Our eyes locked and we both moaned as he slid back inside me.

    As he f**ked me toward oblivion we kept our eyes locked, the connection heightening our arousal, shooting us toward cl**ax faster. His panting breaths and my gasp filled the night air until his c*ck drove deep, shattering the fragile tension inside of me.

    “Jocelyn,” he groaned as my inner muscles squeezed him. He jerked hard against me, shuddering as I felt his release inside of me.

    After a moment he wrapped his arms around me and I wrapped my limbs around him, allowing him to drag me farther up the mattress. As soon as I was fully on the bed, Braden collapsed over me, his mouth nuzzling my neck as I squeezed my thighs around his waist and stroked the damp skin of his muscular back.

    He lifted his head to press a soft kiss to my mouth, asking as he pulled back, “Did I make my point?”

    I raised an eyebrow. “That you’re still a freaking caveman? Yes.”

    His chuckle made him shake against me in a way I loved and I was disappointed when he rolled off of me. That disappointment quickly faded when he pulled me into his side.

    “I should clean up,” I murmured.

    “In a bit.” He sighed. “I didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you. I made a point.”

    “It was embarrassing . . . also . . . was it really just about the guy? Honestly?”

    “Of course.” He kissed my hair. “And . . . maybe the bikini. Maybe you shouldn’t wear that one again.”

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