16. Isla
16
ISLA
D inner was tense. As Declan shuts us into the room Ronan prepared for us to sleep in tonight, all I can think is how tense things are. The number of weapons this family has stashed on this property for something like a wedding is terrifying. Part of me believes it isn't safe to even go outdoors, let alone spend all day out there under a tent, signing my life away. And I don't want my parents here. Rebecca and Mum will be horrified to see the situation.
Da really got himself in deep this time. I wonder, as I walk into the bathroom to put on a silk nightgown, if my father actually knows the type of men he's handed me over to. If he knows they trade in blood and steel like this. If he knows the life I'll be sentenced to live out the rest of my days should I never be able to escape from their hands. A life of crime or a life on the run. Those are my options.
"I'm sorry," Declan says through the door as I drop my skirt and blouse on the bathroom countertop. My eyes catch my own reflection in the mirror, and I see the ugly yellow and green marks everywhere. The accident and the way those men hit me—it's healing but still painful.
"For?" I say back, not really sure what he means. If it's an apology for locking me away, forcing me to marry him, I'll accept it. Then I'll plead with him to help me get away. After everything that's happened, he surely has to see how scary this is for me. They burned my house to the ground. They ran us off the road and nearly killed me. He almost lost his life trying to protect me.
The O’Reillys are dangerous. They won't stop coming for me until I'm dead. I know men like the O'Rourkes have ways to help people vanish. They cover up crimes all the time. It would be simple.
"For dinner… for the whole day. For scaring you…" The door pushes open, and I stand there in nothing but my bra and panties, hands on the bra clasp.
It isn't the first time Declan has seen me like this, but his eyes this time don't flush with erotic desire like normal. This time, they sweep over my marred skin and his lips turn downward in a frown. I shake my head and sigh, turning away from him. I don't like him seeing me like this because it reminds me how much I want him, how good he makes me feel, how I long for his hands to bring me to that precipice and then pull me back in.
And if I think of those things, I forget how scary this whole family is. How they murder and steal and cover it up. How they've got something over my father to the point where he can't even get away from them without trading my life.
It isn't fair. It isn't right. And I have to focus on that as Declan's hands gently touch my biceps and he presses a kiss to the back of my shoulder.
"I promise it won't always be like this. We'll get through the wedding and you'll see. Life can be very normal." His words tighten my gut, make it roil with confusion and indecision. I want to believe him, but I don't. How could I ever settle into this life with him to the point where murder and thievery became normal?
"Help me," I say softly, almost so quietly, I can't hear myself. I don't know if he hears me, but my heart thuds against my chest in anxiety that he does hear me. It's fear of being punished for how I feel—the way Ronan breathes down Declan's neck for almost defecting. And it's fear of being rejected—being told he can't or won't help me. Maybe even a little fear that he will help me and that I'll never see him again.
"I can't, Isla," he whispers. As he does, he turns me to face him, and I rest my hands on his chest. I wish I had some way to take my raw emotion out of my chest and give it to him so he could sense what I'm feeling, the dread and panic. So he could see how desperately I need his help.
"You could get me a new name, a new identity for me and my family. I could go where Sebastian's men can't find any of us, to Russia or the United States. Please…" I realize I'm begging, how weak I sound. But I'm only doing it because I know he cares. On some level, he knows my heart. Why else would he truly protect me like this? Why would he offer me any compassion or sympathy, any gentleness?
"I could, but it wouldn't be right." His eyes cloud with frustration. There's a lot on the line for him too. I know that. If I don’t marry him, what will happen to his family? I heard what Ronan said at dinner. I just don't know what it all means.
Those questions won't go away. They swirl around between us, and I feel compelled to ask him because I see in his eyes the desperation for relief, the way I feel. If I can make him feel relief, I know he will want me to feel it too. He'll help me.
"What was that about? What did you do?" I ask, thinking about dinner and how his brothers spoke to him. Connor seemed to be the only one defending him.
"We're not so different, Isla…" He brushes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and cups my cheek. "I almost ran away too, and now I have to prove my loyalty to this family. I just wish I could help you see what I see now. How Ronan helped me open my eyes to the wealth this family offers, and I'm not talking about money."
My heart sinks ever so slightly, but I believe him. I do believe there is a richness in this family that I could tap into. I see it in the way they respect each other, support each other. I see the way Maeve treats them, and given what I know about her, I can't see why such a respectable doctor like her would allow her life to be linked to this.
I know Declan feels that pull because it's the same pull I feel toward my family and being loyal to them. It's why I will actually walk down that aisle to become his wife if it gets my Da out of hot water, but the first instant I have to get out of here, I'll take it. Maybe while everyone is distracted at the wedding. I just can't stay here. I can't allow them to rule over me when I haven't even been given the choice to submit. My choice was stolen from me.
"You'll see," he says, pulling me against his chest. "I promise."
I do feel safe with him. I feel wanted and comforted in his arms. Maybe it was our joint near-death experience, the accident, or the way he responded afterward by bringing me into his bed, but I do trust him that much. It's that affection that warms me from the inside out. If I run tomorrow, that means tonight is the last night I get with him. Even if I have to disappear now and come back to my family later, I know I have to go, which means a goodbye.
"D," I say, mimicking the way Finn spoke so vulnerably by using a nickname.
Declan's eyes turn down to meet mine as he gives me a bit of space. "Yeah," he says, narrowing his eyes in confusion. I'm sure the nickname probably feels odd coming from me.
"What would you do if I were a really, really bad girl?" I bite my lip and bat my eyelashes, and at first, his gaze storms. Like lightning bolts behind his irises, I see the lights flick on, recognition dawning on him.
"How bad?" he asks, and his hand rests on my hip, strumming the elastic of my panties.
"Very, very bad… I think so bad, you'd have to hunt me down and punish me." Warmth spreads through my body as I reach up and undo my bra clasp and let it fall. "What would you do to me?"
Finally, the point hits its mark. Declan hooks a finger through the elastic of my panties and tips his chin up. "Well," he says, reaching up with his other hand to remove his tie, "I'd have to punish you for sure. You'd probably need to be tied up so you don't run again." In a split second, his hands lash the tie around my wrists, and it makes a wave of lust shoot to my core.
It's bittersweet as he leads me into the bedroom. I've never felt so alive sexually as when he's dominating me. I'll miss it, so I pour every ounce of desire I have into it as he pushes me onto the bed and I get on all fours.
"You'd better catch me. I'm gonna run away," I say, shaking my ass.
Declan's hand comes down on my ass hard, smacking me and leaving a fiery red handprint. "You'll see how I catch my prey, Isla," he growls, and it sends chills down my spine.
I wait for him as he undresses. My hands throb from the tie wrapped so tightly around my wrists. My body is exposed, chilly in the air-conditioned room, but I don’t move a muscle. I can feel his eyes devouring me, probably zeroing in on the dot of moisture soaking through my panties, showing my desire for him.
"You're a dangerous woman, Isla," he growls, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants drop to the floor. He growls low in the back of his throat and strides over to me. His cock is hard, straining against the fabric of his underwear, and it makes something inside me grow hotter and wetter, knowing I have that much power over him. I do that to him and I don’t have to try, much the same way that he makes me ache to be filled just by being near me.
He shoves his boxers down and his cock springs free, and I moan at the sight of it. Thick and veiny, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. “I know. Now punish me,” I tell him, praying if there is a God in heaven, he’ll ignite a fire in my core that will detonate the deepest pleasure I’ve ever known.
His hand comes down on my ass again, harder this time. I yelp but I don’t back down. It doesn’t deter me. It only makes me want him more, to feel his hands on every curve of my body. The stinging pain mixes with desire, and the swirling emotions in my belly coalesce into one. Need.
“I’ll show you punishment,” he grunts. His hands tear the silky, moist fabric of my panties down to my knees, and he leaves them there, prohibiting me from spreading my legs. Then Declan’s fingers shove into me from behind, searching my pussy with force, making me gasp, drawing pants of pleasure as he fucks me with them. He doesn’t go slow. He doesn’t try to ease himself in. He simply impales me with swift thrusts that make my eyes water with the combined pleasure-pain.
I want to reach for my clit, rub myself, aid in the stimulation, but my hands are tied. I buck into him, backing up as he finger fucks me, whimpering for more. The delicious friction is eased only by the moisture my body makes, and his thick digits draw unholy gasps from my throat.
“I’m bad… please, punish me,” I plead, not even sure what I’m saying anymore. This game isn’t me, but how else do I ask him for what my body craves knowing full well that I’m going to run away tomorrow? To be soft is to let my heart be vulnerable. I remind myself that this is sex and nothing more, and after this, I’ll remind myself again that leaving is what’s best. “Please,” I whimper.
Declan growls again, this time a low, rumbling growl that makes me tremble with anticipation. He withdraws his fingers, and I whine my disapproval, but he only reaches for the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing something cold and metallic that clinks together.
“You’re a very bad girl, Isla,” he growls, and I can hear the lust in his voice. He drags whatever it is he’s picked up along my spine, sending shivers down my spine. The surface is smooth, but the edges are hard. “But I think I know just how to punish you.”
The cold object chills my entrance before he shoves it into my pussy, and a symphony of pain and pleasure that melds together until I can't tell the difference anymore follows. I’m whimpering, feeling the cold object fucking me, his hand gripping my ass and squeezing it. It’s hard and thick, striking my back wall with its full depth, and I’m on the edge, ready to come apart when he rips it out of me. I shudder and whimper at the sudden lack of anything inside me.
“Oh, God… shit,” I grunt, panting for breath as he replaces whatever it was with his cock. The contrast from cold to hot is exquisite, and I’m ready to snap. “I’m so close,” I tell him, and he begins pumping into me. His full girth and length are as large and deep as whatever toy he just used on me, but the heat is exquisite now following the chill.
I clench my teeth, clamp my eyes shut, and then I'm shattering, my back arching as my orgasm rocks through me, shaking me to my very core. Declan groans behind me, sliding his cock into my soaking pussy that is already dripping with juices. He pounds into me like a man possessed, growling and surging inside me. Every delicious thrust of his hips pushes me farther into the depths of pleasure. I claw at the sheets until I fall over and the waves begin to subside.
My world spins. I see stars, and I see the flashlight on the bed next to me, soaked in my juices. Its long, metallic blue handle is coated from being inside me, and I can’t even take a moment to think as Declan spreads my thighs, pins my knees to my shoulders, and pushes into me again from this angle. He’s large and dominant, tossing me like a rag doll, and his cock hits my cervix with so much force, I whimper.
“Shit!” I hiss. I use the restraint around my wrists to hook around his head and pull him down for a kiss, almost crushing myself in the process. I can barely breathe, but the sensations are otherworldly.
The room is spinning, and then he’s kissing my neck, biting me hard enough to draw blood. I cry out in ecstasy-pain as he sucks on the wound he’s just made, his cock still pounding me into the mattress. His rhythm is relentless until I can take no more, and I come again, this time with a scream that reverberates off the high ceilings. Declan growls, his cock twitching inside me as he orgasms too, spilling his hot seed into me.
We collapse in a heap, my back pressed against his chest, legs tangled together like vines. I don’t have the strength to move, and neither does he, judging by his labored breathing in my ear. “That was…” I trail off, unable to find the words to describe what just happened between us.
He reaches around and unties the tie from my wrists then holds me. I lie in his arms catching my breath, rehearsing my mantra… I'm a free woman. I'll be free tomorrow. They can't make me stay. My stomach rolls again, the way it has been doing for days. Nerves. The anxiety of it all, of running from these powerful men and praying I don't get killed in the process, is killing me. I can't eat. I can't sleep.
And tomorrow is the day.
When they're all distracted, I'll run.
And God be with me. Because if I do, there's no turning back.