6. Millie
6
MILLIE
His gaze drops to my lips, and pure arousal flares in my tummy and between my legs.
He licked me.
And that is not—strictly—the most unhinged thing that has happened today.
I kidnapped a mafia boss. And then, I got kidnapped right back.
Okay, that’s sort of on-brand. But then Finn made me breakfast. He fed me the best waffles I’ve ever eaten, mouthful by mouthful as though he’d like to eat me up. I had no idea food cooked by someone else tasted so good.
And then his tongue, hot and wet and so intimate and… Shocking. Weirdly taboo. My heart is vibrating in my chest, and my breathing is ragged.
I’m wet and squirmy between the legs in a way I’ve never felt before. Well. Except that night in his pub, when electricity shot down my spine and right to my clit when I saw Finn, like he had reached across the space and run his finger down my body with a hundred volts sparking between us.
Is this what he does to every woman he focuses his attention on? I suppose I’m not special. He is the playboy kingpin, after all.
That thought dampens my excitement, replacing it with wariness.
“What now?” I ask, and my voice shakes.
Wordlessly, he stands and clears away the plate, stashing everything into the dishwasher before flicking it on. Then he opens the bags I brought. One with clothes for me, the other with stuff for my brother.
A crease appears between his brows as he looks at the contents of my brother’s bag. Although he’s a bit taller and bulkier than Noah—how did I imagine he was Noah? Finn is so much more intimidating—I think they would probably fit him.
He slings the bags over his shoulder, and I hear him taking the steep stairs two at a time, leaving me alone.
This is my chance.
I’m out of the kitchen and at the lounge window in a second, and oh—this is going to be far more difficult than I thought. I reverse in and look over my shoulder, so I can reach the catch. The little key is fussy, and I turn it, heart pounding, then press the handle. Nothing.
Nooo, I just locked it?
I flip it back. Squeeze. It doesn’t move.
There’s a roaring in my ears. I’m wasting precious time.
Turning the key again, the window opens.
Ahhhgggg! I swear it—no time for frustration, just get on.
I shove the window open with my fingertips and shuffle backwards, sitting on the windowsill and pushing my bottom out to lever the glass further. I peek down, and outside is a scrubby bush. I gulp. This is going to hurt, but a soft landing is a good thing, right?
Quick .
Get away from the dangerous mafia boss, run down the beach until I reach civilisation, phone the police, something-something-something, get to London and everything will magically be alright. Another wriggle, and I look back into the room as my feet kick out to find purchase on something to help me…
Finn is leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, regarding me with an utterly exasperated expression on his gorgeous face.
“I left you for twenty seconds, Millie,” he growls.
Oh. Sugar.
I overbalance.
For a sickening moment I’m falling, yanking at my hands to try to reach out and catch myself, legs flailing, a scream tearing from my throat.
My head bounces on the bush, but just as I expect to topple completely down, my feet come to an abrupt halt.
I look up. I’m half out of the window, and Finn has my shins tucked under one arm like I’m a very tedious carrier bag.
“Millie,” he sighs, and drags me back into the room by my feet.
This is the most humiliating moment of my life. I’m going to vomit.
“Do I need to put a bell on you, pet?” he grumbles.
“Only if you want to hear me coming.”
“I do, yes,” he sniggers, and I realise what I just said.
“Not like that!” My cheeks heat to the temperature of the molten sun. I’m an idiot.
“Mmmhmm.” He loops one strong arm around my shoulders, and the other shifts to beneath my knees and he picks me up like I weigh nothing at all.
I gasp as my side is pressed to him from hip to chest, and my hands are useless, still tethered at the small of my back.
He’s hard. Everywhere. His body is utterly solid. I can feel the planes of his muscles, like he’s a warm, living marble statue.
“If you wanted to be carried, you should have just said so.” He carries me out of the lounge and those green eyes are steady on my face the whole time, mesmerising as being lost in a forest.
Did I want that?
His body against mine again?
“No.”
Wow. Very convincing. Finn clearly thinks so too, as he tilts his head to the side and nods sarcastically.
The enclosed stairway puts his face into shadow, and there’s a slide of his muscles against my curves as he mounts the stairs.
“Or would you prefer to be spanked?”
I’m speechless.
“I…”
The hand on my legs thumps onto my thigh before I can complete that thought and I squawk.
That… wasn’t bad? It kinda tingles pleasantly.
“Behave, or there will be more like that,” he warns, and a tremor goes down my spine. Not exactly a bad feeling, either.
He takes me to the bedroom with a double bed and places me down on it, sliding me down his body until my toes touch the floor.
He steps backwards, and shrugs off his suit jacket. For a moment, I don’t understand. Then he flicks open the second button of his green shirt.
We’re in a bedroom .
Blood rushes in my ears as button by button he reveals first the rest of his chunky, masculine silver necklaces and that dip between his collarbones that makes my mouth water, then a smattering of dark hair, and sculpted muscles that are decorated with black ink in geometric lines. Celtic knots?
He’s utterly calm as he pinches his cuffs and shrugs out of the shirt. But me? I’m blushing, and unable to look away.
Because my god, he’s the most beautiful thing—human, natural, or object—I’ve ever seen in my life. He has that V at his hips, a six pack that invites my touch, and a trail of dark hair that leads down further.
I let out a squeak as his hands go to his black leather belt with a shiny metal buckle.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t you know?” he says darkly.
I gulp. I do. And I wish I could say it was the honey with the waffles that made my mouth dry.
Punishing me.
He’s so tall, I have to crane my neck to look up at him from where I’m sitting. He has kissable lips. The sort of plush but understated lips that are the envy of any girl who has examined herself critically in the mirror. Though the short black beard that covers his hard jaw, and a nose that has been broken once or twice dispels any hint of softness.
The scars.
I want to ask what he intends, but my brain is unable to think over the clamour of my heartbeat. And also—it’s obvious. He told me he’d have compensation from me of a non-monetary kind, and this is it.
I’m at his mercy. I can’t stop this big, powerful man from using me however he likes.
And far from panic racing through my veins, it’s excitement. I’d never be able to say this aloud, but I want Finn to take . There’s a peace settling over me that’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
“Stand up,” he rumbles, and it’s the sound of a boulder rolling downhill and about to squash you. He has his trousers half open, and there’s a prominent bulge.
A really big one. Intimidating. Terrifying.
I’m shaking. Fear? Excitement? I can’t tell.
“Turn around.”
But without my volition, I slowly spin until I’m facing the headboard of the bed and staring out of the little four paned window that looks out to the sea.
I think he’s going to… Well. I can’t do anything to stop him, can I?
Do I even want to?
I hide that thought in the back of my mind.
There’s a click. My arm shifts.
For a second I don’t know what it means.
Then my other wrist is released.
My head jerks to look over my shoulder—and up—into my captor’s face. My face heats with two realisations at the same time, and my cheeks heat.
He will have seen my plain cotton underwear when he looked in the bags. Sensible knickers. Maybe that’s why he didn’t do what his eyes promised.
And I’m disappointed. I’m absolutely gutted.
I was looking forward to that.
“I’ll escape, you know.” I try to cover how my bravado has sunk without trace. “I’ll run.”
“I hope you will. After we’ve had a rest. It’s been a long night, pet,” he replies with exaggerated patience. “What’s happening now is you and I are getting some shut-eye. I was undressing to go to bed. You don’t expect me to sleep in these clothes after a night in the car in them, do you?”
“I thought you were going to…” I close my eyes in absolute humiliation and bow my head.
He grabs my neck, and my eyes fly open as he uses his thumb to force my chin back up and turn me around towards him.
“Not until you beg for it.”
Adrenaline pulses through me anew, bright and sparkling.
“I want you to plead with me to fuck your mouth. I want your little pink cunt getting all wet and juicy as I shove my cock down your throat,” he continues roughly.
It is. The space between my legs is heating as he says that.
“And you’re not going to run away, because I’ll cuff you again when you’ve finished changing into something to sleep in.”
He withdraws his hand with a caress of my skin, and I’m panting by the time his fingertips leave my chin. Jerking his head towards the door, I take the hint.
I’m in a daze when he sits on the bed, his back to me. There’s no chance of escape, and no way to call anyone, since Finn has my phone. So, I do the only logical thing. I put on the pyjamas from my bag and give my teeth a quick brush, and when I’m done, he’s waiting.
“Hands,” he states and it’s not a request.
I present them in front of me, and watch his muscles flex as he snaps the pink fluffy monstrosities onto me with practised ease.
“Do I need to tie your feet while we sleep, or are you going to be a good girl?”
Finn’s good girl ? Tingles shimmer over my skin. “I’ll be good.”
“You will, yeah?” He shoots me a wry look, and points at the bed.
“See, I am a good captive.” I demonstrate by getting onto the bed and wriggling under the covers.
Finn tugs the curtains closed on all the windows, blocking out a nominal amount of light.
Then he lies down behind me, wraps his arm around my waist and all the air gets expelled from my lungs as he jerks me flush to his chest. He throws one leg over mine, but I notice that his hips are angled away, so I can’t feel what I nearly saw. Is that because…
“What are you doing?” I ask softly. “I thought…”
“Go to sleep, Millie.” His reply is gruff.
I close my eyes, and despite everything, the warmth of his body and the sensation of being secure—trapped, yes, but I can’t do anything about it, and this isn’t my fault or my responsibility to sort out for once—has my body relaxing.
I might have accidentally kidnapped Finn, but I’m his captive.
The playboy kingpin wants to keep me. For now.
There’s cold at my back when I wake. For a second, the weight of dread sinks into me that my brother is a gambling addict who has put himself in debt way over his head, I’m a nurse whose next shift probably starts in about five minutes, and I’ll have hundreds of people to take care of for twelve hours, and I’m alone.
Then I open my eyes, see the cottage bedroom, and I remember the kidnap.
And Finn.
I jolt upright with all the grace of a three-legged panda falling off a log, since my hands are still cuffed. In pink fluffy handcuffs.
Ohhh kill me now.
Finn is sprawled in the comfy chair, facing the bed, on his phone. He’s changed into a T-shirt and a pair of jeans from my brother’s bag, and they’re a smidge too small. The white T-shirt picks up threads of grey at his temples that were almost invisible before, and hugs his biceps, revealing the shadows of his tattoos beneath. His brows are low.
I suppose I should be fist pumping because technically I slept with a stunningly gorgeous man .
But the cuffs make it difficult, plus he didn’t touch me. He was a gentleman, disappointingly. Is the only way I can get a man to spend time with me by deprivation of liberty?
What a fail. I’ve always been shy and awkward with boys, but this is absurd.
He’s beautiful. Powerful. Rich. All the things I’m not, and suddenly I’m really aware of how pointless it is to make this into something it isn’t. He’s just playing a game with me, like a sleek jungle cat. For all he’s wearing casual clothes, he’s a jaguar with black fur and green eyes.
Am I seriously thirsting over my victim/captor, when my brother could be in trouble for all I know? Ugh. I’d like to think he’ll have been calling me, but I doubt it. We were so close when we were kids, and then long shifts and his gambling “hobby” pushed us apart, leaving me alone.
He is still my little brother. However tall he gets, I’m still the one who made him breakfast cereal when our parents left us for days on end.
“Can you phone my brother? Or can I call him from your phone?” I ask.
Finn looks up, and his expression instantly brightens as his green eyes meet mine.
Then he blinks, as though he has only just processed what I said. “He’s a big boy.”
There’s something evasive in the kingpin’s answer, but I can’t identify what it might be beyond the obvious. Finn Kilburn likes to be in control.
My gut turns over. While Noah won’t even realise I’m gone, I’ll be stuck with the man I’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about, who is probably just toying with the little girl—compared to him—who accidentally kidnapped him.
“He’ll be okay without you for a week,” Finn continues.
What? Does he not intend to leave immediately after getting some rest?
I can’t. I just can’t do this.
A week with my crush is humiliation in seven twenty-four-hour shifts on top of whatever punishment Finn has planned. Even dealing with my brother would have been better than falling further for a man who is so out of my league he’s like a professional football player and I’m a toddler with a foam ball.
“You don’t want to spend that long here.” That sounds desperate.
“Don’t I?” He puts his phone aside. “Nice house. Beach location. Good company.”
“We’re strangers!” But already he doesn’t feel like a stranger. There’s a tug at my heart. I admire this man, despite everything.
“Are we?” he asks softly, narrowing his eyes.
“Aren’t we?” Because that’s the other thing. The way he feels familiar and like I’ve seen his face constantly since bumping into him at Noah’s work. I’ve told myself over and over I’m deluded. Finn isn’t everywhere, even in his territory of Kilburn. He’s not in the hospital, on the street as I walk to work, or in the queue at the coffee shop.
He’s not. That’s absurd.
“We’ve met before,” he points out calmly. “Last week.”
“Yes, but…” I can’t say what I mean here. Yes, but my tummy goes all squiggly near you, and I have daydreams about you .
He stares at me, head tilted arrogantly up, as though daring me to admit that I’ve seen him since then.
“I can get you home,” I finish instead.
“I’m not interested in going home. I want compensation . And I’ve decided it will be a week here, with you.”
I press my lips together.
Finn stands and paces towards me. I resist the urge to shrink back, but fear judders down my arms and legs. That intense expression in his green eyes indicates the mafia boss is going to exact revenge for my mishap.
He’s going to take everything .
He might… My mind won’t even think of the word.
And yet, heat twists low in my stomach.
“I want something money can’t buy,” he says, his voice like black silk.
My clit throbs.
He drops one knee between my feet, then leans down over me. I shrink back, lying down. Finn follows, and his breath is warm on my lips, sending a shiver of heated fear and arousal down my spine.
This is crazy. I’m scared, and tied up, and yet…
“Will you let me go if I do what you ask?” I look between his eyes and his mouth, the excitement stealing all the oxygen in the room.
This isn’t the way I thought I’d lose my V-card.
But, honestly, I just haven’t imagined losing it. I’ve never met anyone who made me feel like I wanted to touch them, or to have them touch me.
Until Finn.
There’s a pause, and it’s probably my imagination, but is his sigh a bit disappointed, his expression weary?
“One week,” he says gruffly. “Then we’ll return to London. I’ll drop you home myself.”
He reaches down and snags my pyjama top. I don’t breathe as he pulls it oh-so-slowly up. “Seven days, Millie. Until we go back to Kilburn, you’re my captive.”
As he stares hungrily at my bared breasts, my nipples pucker. The kingpin who made me feel special with a glance makes my skin flush hot.
He’s a playboy. That’s why he’s so good at this. He’ll leave me as soon as he’s had his fun.
And yet, even knowing all that, I can’t help but want him.