He regarded her.

She appeared pissed, but not panicked, angry that he'd bested her, perhaps furious that he'd denied her an orgasm.

There was a knock on his door.

He went to answer it.

"You can't just leave me here, Quinn."

"Aye, until you learn some manners, I certainly can." He pulled on a pair of jogging pants. The material did nothing to disguise the size of his erection.

He unlocked the door to find Liam there.

"Mistress Sinead appears to have left her clothing in the foyer, sir."

Sinead groaned audibly.

Liam raised his bushy brows. "May I suggest a gag, sir?" Liam handed over the pile of clothes. "I've found a gag plenty handy. Unless you have use of her mouth for other purposes."

Jack blinked, for once in his life dumbfounded.

Liam nodded sagely and shuffled off.

"I shall drown in mortification," Sinead told him, when he closed the door.

"I'm not certain I won't," he admitted. He placed her clothes on top of his wardrobe. "Now, where were we?"

"You were deciding not to be a beast."

"I was deciding whether or not to strap your legs to the footboard."

"I'm not into bondage."

"Really?" He sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned over, and he pinned her thighs to the mattress with his torso. "Is that why your pussy is all but dripping?" He feathered a finger between the folds of her vulva. "Because you're not into bondage? Or is it because you don't like being naked in the entryway? Or maybe because you're hoping I take pity on you and take out that plug."

She ceased her struggles. In silent surrender, she arched her back and dug her heels into the mattress.

"Jack! Please!"

"Please what? Please stop? Please order me to spread my legs? Please lick my clit? Please suck on it? Please touch it? Please give me the screaming orgasm you denied me downstairs?"

"Yes!"

"Which?"

"All of them..."

He moved aside and she opened her legs wide.

"Tell me what you want." He moved between her legs, facedown. After parting her folds, he laved his tongue across the sensitive, already-swollen little nub. He worked his tongue against her with a little more pressure. "Ask for it. Be specific. Be graphic. Beg me. Call me your master."

She shook her head. But he knew it was only a matter of time, both in the bedroom and out of it. "I love having my face in your pussy. I like the way you taste. I love how moist you are. I like how responsive."

Her free hand was in his hair. She wasn't pulling, instead, she was holding on, keeping him in place.

"Tell me," he said against her heated skin.

"I..."

"The bondage you keep yourself in, Sinead, is more powerful than the bonds that confine you. Be honest, Sinead. Be honest with me. More importantly, with yourself. I'll give you one last chance. Tell me what you want, else I'll leave the plug in and just let us both go to sleep. "

"Heathen!"

He rolled off her. By tomorrow, if he knew women, she'd be following him, crawling after him, begging for what she wanted, what she would realise she needed.

"Please, Jack."

"You're trying my patience."

"I want you to lick me."

He sat on the edge of the bed and captured her chin with his thumb and forefinger. "That's a start. I want you to be graphic."

She swallowed. "I want you to lick my pussy."

"More graphic," he snapped.

"Lick my cunt," she pleaded.

Jaysus. He wasn't sure his cock could take this. He wasn't sure he could take it. "And then?"

"Suck my clit. When I'm about to come, gently bite it."

"There now. Just add some manners and a little begging and you'll get what you want."

She scowled. "That wasn't good enough?"

"I want you to know you're mine. "I want you to beg prettily. I want your honesty." He fingered her, bringing her to arousal again. "Do you like that?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He felt her entire body tremble.

"Please lick my cunt, Sir."

As he did what she asked, she continued, "Please, please bring me off. Please, I beg you!" She writhed. "I want you. I need you. I need this."

She pulled against the restraint. She moaned. She continued to beg prettily.

God help him if she ever discovered the truth, that she held tremendously more power over him than he'd ever hold over her.

Her eyes closed. With her free hand, she held his head while she slowly rotated her hips. Could she be any more spectacular?

"Sir...?"

She was only seconds away, there was no doubt.

"Sir..."

This time he shuddered. The word sounded sweet on her lovely lips.

"Fuck me," she demanded. "I want your cock in my cunt."

In that instant she could have asked for a star for her neck and he would have figured out how to have it boxed and wrapped.

He left her for a moment and took off the jogging pants before grabbing a condom from a drawer.

He returned to her, feeling simultaneously predatory and protective. An enemy for eight hundred years, she was tied to his bedpost. Maybe if an ancestor of his had done this centuries ago, there'd have been peace across the land.

"Fuck me hard, Sir."

Despite her respectful words, there was no doubting the command in her voice. The O'Malley lass wasn't a perfect little submissive but she was the perfect woman for him.

He took her with no preliminaries, sinking deep into her with a single thrust.

"Yes," she said. "More. Harder. Deeper. Please, Sir."

Her hot pussy clenched around him, milking his balls.

She clenched her free hand onto his shoulder. "Sir, please. I need to come."

"Wait," he told her. She'd asked permission. That should have been enough for him, but it wasn't. He was delaying his satisfaction. She could, as well. He slowed his thrusts and made each a little more shallow.

She dug her fingernails into his skin.

"It'll be sweeter for the waiting."

"Sir..."

He didn't respond, but he captured her left nipple and squeezed it brutally.

She bucked and gasped.

"Now?" she demanded. "Please!"

"Exquisite," he told her. "Now.

"I can come?"

"Yes." He filled her, pulled back then pressed forward again. He worked a hand beneath her hips and tilted the angle of her pelvis so as to rub her G-spot with each stroke.

"Saints," she whispered.

"Come," he whispered, urged, demanded. He increased the tempo of his movements.

Seconds later, her internal muscles tightened.

"Yes."

She arched her back and screamed his surname as she shattered.

The force of her climax drove his, and Jack could hold out no longer. He grabbed hold of her hips, imprisoning her.

"Fill me," she said against his ear.

She didn't submit as any other woman had. But her lusty demands were more satisfying than her quiet capitulation would have been.

He groaned as the first spurt of semen pulsed into her heat.

Her fingers curled into his shoulder. His body jerked as a second spasm claimed him and pleasure spilled from him. There was something about this woman...

He supported his weight with his elbows. He kissed, licked, nipped the exposed side of her neck. He was never glad of bloodshed, would never have wanted it. And maybe his grandmother was right-'twas time the two of them ended the feud.

"This doesn't mean I'll marry you or stop fighting you," she said, as if reading his mind.

He sighed. "A truce?" he asked, rising up slightly and supporting his weight on his palms. He looked down at her. Her lips were slightly opened and her breaths were a bit shallow. If it weren't for her narrowed eyes, she'd look like a happy, sated woman.

"I'll thank you to release me so I can take out your unwelcomed plug. I need some sleep and you're interfering with it."

Ah. Had he expected any of this to be easy? "I'll remove it for you."

"Absolutely not!"

"In that case, I'll accompany you to the toilet."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You've denied me a truce. You've tried several escapes. You've not earned trust or privacy."

"I'll not allow you in the toilet with me."

"In that case..." He moved off the bed and discarded the condom in the rubbish. He grabbed a couple of flannels from the linen closet and dampened them with warm water. When he returned, he told her, "Open your legs."

"I can do this myself."

"No doubt. Now spread your legs else I'll lash them to the bedposts."

"You-"