And that’s why you’ll let her go, aye?
It was better this way. Though Quinn had never struck a woman, he couldn’t be all that different from his da. He’d beaten the bastard bloody—and then he’d gone off to kill for a living. What woman could love a man who’d beaten his own da?
She stirred, ran her fingers through his chest hair, spoke in a sleepy voice. “Was that Scottish Gaelic?”
It took Quinn a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “Aye.”
“What does that mean?”
He had no idea how she’d react, but he told her anyway. “It means somethin’ like ‘sweetheart.’”
She made a little purring noise, and for a while neither of them spoke.
Then her body tensed.
“What is it?”
She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Jack was murdered by someone who knew him.”
“That’s what’s goin’ through your mind—Jack’s murder?”
You’re no’ as good in bed as you think you are, man.
She smiled. “Nothing was going through my mind, and then the pieces just clicked. But I don’t want to talk about that now. I just mentioned it because I’m about to slip into a sex coma and didn’t want to forget. You’re amazing, Quinn McManus.”
She snuggled against him again, and soon they were both sound asleep.
* * *
Quinn was havinga delicious dream about fucking Lilibet only to wake and find her kneeling between his thighs, giving him head. “Jesus!”
She moved her mouth and hand together up and down his length, her tongue doing something incredible. She lifted her mouth from him, gave him a pouty look. “I woke up hungry. I hope this is okay.”
Och, she was too much.
“Feel free to go down on me any time you…” His words unraveled as she took him into the heat of her mouth again.
He moved her hair aside so he could watch, the sight of her devouring him making his cock jerk in her hand. “More pressure … aye, like that.”
Pleasure uncoiled at the base of his spine, the first hint of climax making his balls draw tight. She kept up the pace, down to the base and up again, her tongue swirling around the aching head, her gaze fixed on his.
After that, it didn’t last long. Quinn clenched his teeth, arching as orgasm ripped through him, Elizabeth finishing him with her hand, cum spilling onto his belly.
He lay there, stunned. “If only I could wake up like this every day…”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She hopped out of the bed naked, walked to the bathroom, and came back with a warm washcloth to wipe him clean.
“Now, that’s service,” he teased, some part of him still unable to believe they’d slept together.
“You are the best sex I’ve ever had, Quinn, and that was the best sex nap ever.” She pressed a kiss to his solar plexus. “But now I reallyamstarving.”
Quinn glanced at the bedside alarm clock to see that it was almost suppertime. How bloody long had they slept?
She jumped up again and bustled around, getting dressed, brushing her hair, perusing the room service menu. She glanced over at him. “Aren’t you going to get up?”
Quinn’s mind was willing, but his body was still coming down from somewhere in the stratosphere. Besides, he could have watched her all day. “Give me a minute.”
She read out the choices from the room service menu and ordered. By the time the food arrived—roast chicken and wine for her and venison and whisky for him—Quinn was upright and dressed.