Chapter 26
Declan
W e arrive at the docks, and it’s like stepping into the pits of hell; the air is thick with smoke, my eyes feel the burn, the flames illuminate the dark sky like fireworks, the shipment was completely blown to pieces, and there are fragments scattered all over the water.
The heat from it is intense, making me remove my leather jacket before it melts to my skin. Our men ran around trying to salvage whatever they could, but there wasn’t much to salvage to begin with.
Firefighters shout orders as they try to extinguish the flames. Poor guys, all this work for nothing.
The guns in the shipment only had a little ammo to make it look believable. However, the scattered explosions from the heat hitting the remaining rounds sent sharp cracks echoing across the dockyard. It’s a hell of a show.
Connor strides ahead, heading straight for the fire captain, his voice loud and commanding as he demands answers. I glance at him and then back at the chaos, and I’ve got to admit, my brothers are better actors than I gave them credit for.
“Another one. Fucking hell,” John Flanagan mutters as he strides up beside me, the flames reflected in his narrowed eyes.
Sweat glistens on his face from the heat, and his usual cocky smirk has been replaced with a grim line. Nolan Keeffe stands next to him, uncharacteristically quiet, his expression a mix of unease and discomfort.
The glow from the flames lights up his pale face, making him look even more like he’s about to lose his nerve.
“Yeah, the Koslovs got lucky with this one. It’s one of ours,” I say, doing my best to sound pissed. Honestly, it’s not that hard, considering all I really want to do right now is knock Nolan’s head into the ground and watch his eyes pop out.
“Did anyone see anything?” John asks, shaking his head as he stares at the inferno.
“Not that I know of,” I reply, leaning against the car and watching the shit show unfold. “But Kian’s still talking to the men.”
Nolan scoffs, and that’s it; I’ve had enough.
“You,” I snapped, pointing directly at him. “We’ve got some issues to take care of.”
The colour drains from his face as John steps aside, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama.
I walk toward Nolan slowly, cracking my neck from side to side. A smirk plays on my lips as I watch him instinctively take a step back.
“Just take it, lad,” John says, lighting a cigarette, his tone amused.
I raise an eyebrow at Nolan, watching his chest rise and fall as panic sets in. “Face or gut?” I ask coolly.
His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I shrug. Fine. Without waiting, I punch him square in the jaw and follow it up with a sharp knee to the stomach.
“Fuck! You asked, face or gut!” Nolan groans, rolling to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth.
“And you didn’t answer, shitface,” I replied casually, wiping my knuckles on his jeans.
“So… we’re square?” he asks, trying to get up but wisely keeping his distance.
“Not even by a long shot,” I chuckle, turning back toward the car. Behind me, John lets out a loud laugh, clearly entertained. It’s not enough, but it will do for now; maybe I can convince Viviana to give him a little of her right hook as she gave me—my chin is still sore.
“There is nothing else we can do; no one saw a fucking thing,” Connor strides, voice loud for anyone nearby to listen. “How the fuck did they know about this shipment, Dec?” he continues.
“I don’t know, fucking Koslovs,” I mutter, my face a mask of rage.
In the car, I look at the next few shipments; the next one will be from Flynn. To make all of this believable, we need to give them information about several Irish Consortium shipments, not just ours.
During the next couple of weeks, Viviana sent Giovanni two more targets: one of ours and one from Flynn. Her father’s replies are as dry as ever, but I can’t deny the reality: we’re running out of targets.
A warehouse, two speedboats, and still no movement from Aleksandr. She’s been playing her role to perfection, but I can see it taking a toll on her. The fire in her eyes hasn’t diminished, but it’s flickering with all the uncertainty of what’s to come. I don’t know how long she can keep it up.
So tonight, I made sure the house was empty and everyone was out.
We can’t leave the mansion together, not yet. As long as we stay inside, the narrative we’ve carefully built stays intact.
I asked the staff to prepare her favourite lasagna and tiramisu, a small slice of home, to remind her of herself and not this mess. Something real. Something far better than that fucked-up dish she made us eat last time; I haven’t been able to eat eggs since.
I asked her to dress up.
I take one last look in the mirror as I adjust my black tailored suit and buttoned up matching black shirt. She loves black, and tonight is for her. I’ve felt her growing colder these past few days, and I don’t know if it’s because of this plan or because of me.
God help me if it’s the latter.
Either way, she’s mine, and there’s no fucking way I will let her go.
The table is set to perfection; crystal glasses sit next to the fine china, and at the centre of the table, there is a bottle of Chianti Classico that I just opened earlier to let it breathe. The room is enveloped by the scent of the homemade lasagna Rose made using an Italian recipe she asked an old friend for.
I don’t know why I feel like a teen on a first date, but my heart is pounding in my fucking ears. I hear the heels clicking on the floor. I’d recognize the way she walks anywhere.
Why the fuck did I keep that information? I don’t have the slightest idea, but for some reason, every detail of her—how she walks, talks, dresses, and thinks—interests me in a way no one ever has before. I’m fucking addicted to her.
She enters the room, and my bloody heart stops as my cock stands and salutes; my blood rushes south. Before I can even say a word, Viviana appears in another stunning, sexy-as-fuck black dress that hugs every curve of her body to perfection. It’s so damn short that if she bends over, I’ll have a better view than the Empire State Building.
Black heels, dark-toned eyes, and deep-red lips. This fucking vixen came ready to drive me insane. She looks like a goddess here to take my soul, and I’d gladly give it to her.
“You look like the Queen of Darkness,” I say, my fucking voice faltering. Her lips curl slightly up—she caught it. Pulling her chair out for her, I whisper, “You and those goddamn black dresses will be the death of me.” Her lips twitch, a proud look on her face.
“I’m glad you like them,” she teases.
I head to my seat, trying to look cool and collected as my cock strains against the zipper, screaming for release.
Later, mate. Later.
I pour some ruby-red wine into her glass and mine. “A little taste of Tuscany,” I murmur, raising my glass to meet hers.
She takes a sip, her fingers delicate around the stem, and for a moment, her shoulders ease. The wine brings colour to her cheeks, and though her eyes are still heavy with worry, I catch a glimmer of the woman who walked into my life with fire in her veins.
We eat mostly in silence, the sound of the fork on the plate being the only thing cutting through it. I glance at her. She isn’t here; she’s stuck somewhere in her mind—some hell she created because of her father, because of me—and now she can’t get out.
I don’t fucking know how to drag her back to me.
“Vi, is everything okay?” I finally ask, keeping my voice steady and warm, inviting her to open up to me.
Her head lifts, and she gives me a small, sad smile, one I haven’t seen before. It makes my hand tighten around the wine glass. “I haven’t been sleeping too well. I feel a little tired, that’s all,” she says, her voice collected but distant.
I know better. She’s been waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, trembling. I hold her every time, but it feels like it’s never enough.
“Can I do anything?” My voice is soft, but there’s an edge of desperation. I need her to let me do something, anything, to ease her mind.
She shakes her head and reaches for the wine, pouring herself another glass. Her cheeks are growing redder, and so is the tip of her nose. Her shoulders start to relax, finally letting go of some of that tension. Good. At least for now, maybe she can enjoy the rest of the night.
The room feels hotter by the second. I don’t know if it’s the wine, the fireplace crackling softly in the background, or just Viviana herself. I roll up my sleeves, unbuttoning the top two buttons of my shirt as I take a deep breath.
When I lift my eyes from my dish, I catch her staring. Her gaze travels over my arms, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
My lips curl into a smirk. “Like what you see?”
She tilts her head, eyes trailing lazily over my chest. Her lips twist into a devilish smile, one that sends fire straight through me. “You mean, do I like what I own?” she purrs.
Oh, fucking hell.
“What do you own, huh?” I lean back in my chair and take a slow sip of wine, keeping my eyes locked on my wife.
Viviana doesn’t answer. Instead, she pushes her chair away from the table, her legs parting just enough to tease me. Not enough to see her panties, but enough to make me lose any coherent thought. My mind checks out as my cock takes over.
I’m on my feet before I even realize it, grabbing the bottle of wine as I step closer to her. Towering over her, I watch as her hand drifts toward my cock, which is fighting against my pants, ready to break free for hours.
I grab her wrist, stopping her, my grip firm but gentle. “This night is all for you, firecracker,” I say, swallowing the urge to fuck her mouth. Then I kneel in front of her, setting the bottle on the table as her lips part slightly, a challenge sparking in her eyes.
My hand travels from her calves to her thighs, and she shivers under my touch. I lean in and kiss her leg, licking until I reach her dress. Her breath catches, her eyes full of want—of need.
I slide my hands under her dress, fingers tracing the curve of her thighs until I reach the edge of her underwear. Black lace panties. Fuck. I pull them down slowly, savouring the way the fabric slides over her skin. Once free, I tuck them into my suit pants pocket. She raises an eyebrow, her expression daring me to continue.
“Open wide,” I order, my voice firm. “Let me show you who owns who.”
Her chest rises and falls faster, the rhythm of her breathing betraying her anticipation. I reach for the thin strap on her shoulder, pulling it down with deliberate care.
Her nipples are already hard, a silent invitation. My fingers brush over them, circling softly before I give them a sharp pinch. She arches her back, a soft whimper escaping her lips, and I feel a surge of control.
My other hand slides her dress higher, revealing more of her to me. I let my fingers explore, finding her beautiful cunt, already slick with desire. The wetness clings to my skin as I part her lips gently, my thumb brushing her clit in slow, teasing circles. Her hips begin to move against my hand, her moans filling the room like a melody I can’t get enough of.
I pull her chair closer, spreading her legs wider, taking in the sight of her glistening heat. She is stunning, open and vulnerable in a way that makes my chest tighten with need. Leaning in, I let my breath ghost over her, and she shivers.
“I’m going to savor every inch of you until you scream my name,” I warn, my voice low and rough. My tongue darts out, licking her in one deliberate stroke. Her taste is intoxicating, a mix of sweetness and raw desire that leaves me craving more.
“Declan, God,” she breathes, her hips rising instinctively.
“Not God, firecracker,” my tongue enters her hole, moving in and out, and she cries out louder, holding herself on the arms of the chair.
I suck every inch of her slick heat; my other hand moves around her pebbles, pinching them the way I know she likes, a mix of pain and pleasure dancing in her eyes.
My thumb moves harder on her clit, her arousal dripping into my mouth, and I feast like a starving beast.
Fuck, I need her. I need all of her, more than I’ve ever needed anything. She is my lifeline.
I feel her legs trembling, her walls clenching tightly around my tongue. Looking up, I watch as her head tilts back, her lips parted in a breathless gasp.
Her hand flies to my hair, fingers tangling as she pulls me closer, grinding against my mouth, her body shuddering under the weight of her release.
Her body radiates heat like a volcano, her skin flushed and burning under my touch. I lick her harder, faster, my tongue and thumb working in perfect rhythm. She screams my name as her orgasm crashes into her like a tidal wave, her body writhing uncontrollably.
I don’t let up, sucking and savouring every shudder, drawing out her climax as I drink in every drop of her ecstasy.
I’m so fucking hard right now, and it’s taking all my power of control to keep it together.
As she comes down, her face softens into a state of bliss, her breathing still uneven. I can’t help but chuckle, moving up until our faces are inches apart.
Her tongue darts out, licking herself off my lips, and I capture her mouth in a hard, heated kiss, my tongue plunging inside as if staking a claim. When I break the kiss, her eyes lock onto mine, dark and heavy with desire.
Reaching for the table, I grab the bottle of wine. Her lips curve into a knowing smile, her breath hitching as I bring the bottle to her lips. She parts them slowly, inviting me in, and I tilt the bottle just enough for the ruby liquid to cascade into her mouth, spilling slightly down her chin and over her bare breasts.
The sight of the wine dripping down her skin ignites something feral in me. I lean forward, licking the trails of crimson from her chest, my tongue circling her hardened buds before I take one between my teeth, biting just hard enough to make her tighten around me.
The tang of wine mixed with her heat is intoxicating, a sinful taste of heaven I’ll never get enough of.
I get between her legs, collecting her arousal; her eyes pop open, curiosity in her face; spreading her arousal around the neck of the bottle, she releases an “O,” and I chuckle.
“Don’t you want to be fucked?” I press the neck of the bottle into her entrance, and she moves up trying to avoid it.
“By your cock, not that thing,” her panicked voice makes me even more feral for her.
I hold her hips down and press the bottle more, just an inch in; the cold glass in contrast with her warmth makes goosebumps on her skin, and she whimpers.
“Declan, wait,” she begs, her eyebrow raised.
“Trust me, firecracker,” I kiss her thighs and move the bottle inside her, her back arching, my thumb begins to draw circles on her clit, the bottle going in and out, fucking her, her eyelashes flutter, her eyes close.
“Eyes on me; I want to see you being fucked by the bottle, Viviana.” I move the bottle faster, making sure to hit that spot inside her that makes her toes curl. “I own every inch of you and will fuck you as I want,” my voice husky, my balls feeling heavy almost in a painful way.
“This feels so…” She pants, her voice hoarse with pleasure, “So fucking good.”
I smile, not taking my eyes off her. She looks like a goddess, her hair cascading over her shoulder, her flushed cheeks giving her an ethereal glow. Her body arches and convulses, her core dripping.
“You’re a fucking masterpiece, Viviana,” I murmur, my voice low like a groan. I feel her body implode under my touch, her release causing her to shatter. I hold her close, ensuring she doesn’t hurt herself against the bottle, slowly pulling it away as she whimpers, struggling to steady herself.
I stand up, looking at her on the chair, looking at the beautiful mess I’ve made. I would be here all night making her come over and over again. I drag the bottle to my lips, drinking it, the mix of her cum and the wine makes a chill run down my spine straight to my cock.
She looks up at me, moving her dress down, her eyes on the bulge in my pants; she licks her lips, and I smirk, shaking my head at the fire still in her eyes, little drips of sweat on her breasts and her forehead. She slides from the chair to the floor, getting on her knees.
“My turn,” she murmurs as she unbuckles my belt, her hand reaching out. I’m so on edge it takes all my strength not to come.
Before I can steady myself, she sticks my cock in her mouth, holding my balls in her hand as she sucks me like a fucking lollipop. “Fucking hell, Viviana,” I hold the end of the table, my breaths burning my insides as I struggle not to explode, but I know that won’t work. Fuck this!
I grab her hair, opening my legs a little so she can sit in the middle. “Remember your fucking safe word, firecracker,” I demand, and I fuck her mouth; she gags a couple of times before releasing a purr, tears welling in her eyes, but her lashes flutter, brushing them away.
She makes a sucking sound, and her tongue plays with my cock as I move in and out of her mouth, her saliva and my pre-cum dripping to her neck, and I dig my fingers into her long raven hair.
“Drink all of it, firecracker,” I grunt, my movements becoming more erratic. “Fuck!”
I feel it building deep in my gut, a pressure that I can’t ignore. My grip on her tightens, fingers digging into her scalp as my body locks up. My breath catches in my chest, and for a moment, everything stills.
Then, it hits.
A burst of heat rushes through me, fucking exploding in a way that makes every muscle in my body tense and quaver. My hips jerk, and I can’t hold back the growl that escapes my throat, my body flexing with the release.
It’s raw, uncontrollable, the kind of release that makes me feel like I can lose myself in it. I bury my face in her hair, trying to steady myself, the taste of her skin on my lips grounding me as the last wave rolls through me, leaving me panting and fucking spent.