Chapter 19
Isabelle
I returned to the kitchen after leaving Rian a panting mess in the hallway. I’m sure if I stayed he would have returned the favor, but his intense stare twisted something in my belly and scared me. My anger is lessening every day, and each morning in his bed has my body aching for more of his touch.
Deirdre helped me prepare an early dinner, a hearty roast and a ton of potatoes and vegetables. She’d also shown me how to make soda bread, which left me longing for the restaurant and the pasta I haven’t eaten in days. I love learning about any kind of food, but she assures me that the men usually devour whatever she puts on the table. So with that in mind, I decide tomorrow I’ll show her a recipe of my own.
“Fucking hell, it smells good,” Cillian groans as we set the dishes on the table.
I smile widely. There’s nothing better than someone loving the food you made, but I can’t pass up the opportunity. “It’s to hide the poison.”
My gaze flickers to Rian, who watches everything with eager eyes.
He smirks before serving himself a plate and shoving a bite into his mouth. “Hmm. Poison, my second favorite flavor after your pussy.”
Sliding into my chair, I jerk at his crude words. My knee bangs against the table, and I grab the wineglass to save it from falling.
My eyes raise to his, and my cheeks blush as his lips twitch in the corner.
Cillian chuckles and the rest of them move to eat.
I frown down at the food, suddenly thinking about the empty chair all the way at the end. “Do you want to save a plate for your father?”
There’s a small silence and I see a few of the men shift in their seats.
Deirdre makes a soft noise from the back of her throat. “He’d love that, but let me. I’ll need to reduce the sizes of the meat and vegetables.”
Rian looks up at her in relief and nods once. He waves for me to eat before he grabs his drink and raises it. I glance down the table as the rest of the men grab their cup and raise it as well.
“To my wife, and the wonderful meal she made us.”
I flush with heat as they echo his sentiment with a cheer.
Rian laughs softly before he leans over. “Was this your choice or Deirdre’s?”
“Both? She offered, and I was eager to learn. You might have to get used to more pasta soon, though.”
“I love pasta.”
“It will be a nice change to have more pasta,” Cillian interjects. “While I’m a man who loves meat and potatoes, I enjoy the occasional carbonara. ” He heavily accents the last word and I roll my eyes, though I am impressed by the attempt.
Aodhan swats his chest. “Just say spaghetti like the rest of us.”
“There’s a difference, isn’t there, Isabelle?”
I look at them incredulously. “Yes, considering carbonara is a type of sauce and spaghetti is a pasta.”
“There’s spaghetti sauce,” Cormac says. It’s half-muffled as he chews, and I’m not sure if I’m more disgusted at him talking with his mouth full or his insinuation.
“Oh my god,” I mutter, not having the mental strength for this conversation.
Rian chuckles. “You’ll just have to school us.”
I give him a tight smile. “Perhaps, but I’m no expert. That’s why I can’t wait to continue learning at my father’s restaurant.”
The good natured banter we’ve been enjoying the past few minutes disappears.
Rian’s face hardens. “I said I would be open to discussing it later.”
“Why not now?” I swallow down my nerves as soon as the question leaves my mouth. A part of me knows I shouldn’t be questioning him like this in front of his men, but Aodhan told me the brotherhood was safe.
Rian stares at me, his jaw moving back and forth. “Because this peace is fairly new and I don’t wish to tempt it by sending one of my men with you into Luca’s territory.”
I stifle the desire to look at the men sitting quietly and jilt my chin. “It’s my father’s place. I don’t need?—”
“These are the men I call my brothers. I trust these men with my life and yours. If I’m not with you, one of them will be.”
“The brotherhood,” I whisper, and he stills at the fear in my voice. I can feel his eyes on me, and I barely withhold a wince when he reaches over and rests his hand over mine.
“We’d never hurt you, Isabelle. And I’m sure our reputation has grown to the point of outrageous tales.”
“But Luca wouldn’t like them in his territory?” I can connect the dots that he’s drawing.
Rian shakes his head. “No, he wouldn’t.”
“Not even if you discuss it with him beforehand?” My hope is dwindling with each second.
He shifts in his chair. “I’ll be honest. It’s hard to let go of years of resentment, to discuss something so civil with him.”
“Not even for your wife?”
I watch as his tongue drags across his lip and then pushes into his cheek. The calculating coldness in his eyes and silence from the men has me dropping my gaze. Something tells me I took it too far with that question, when my only aim had been to test the waters. I’ve been surrounded by Made Men my whole life and know how possessive they are of their women. I wasn’t completely naive that Rian would be so willing to send me back into my family’s territory, but I had hoped.
“Not now, Isabelle. That’s the end of the discussion.”
At the finality of his tone, the rest of the men go back to eating. I stare at the centerpiece on the table, red roses twisted with baby’s breath, stuffed in an ugly brass vase. It’s gaudy and I hate it, I loathe everything about the decor. The table is set with a deep red silk runner to cover the dark mahogany table. Triple stacked white plates sit on top of more red placemats with shiny silver utensils on both sides. The only relief from the obscene color scheme is the cream cloth napkins to drape over our laps.
“Isabelle?”
I blink, turning to face my husband. “I think green would look better in this room, instead of red. Do you agree?”
Rian’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Waving a hand at the table settings, I tilt my head at him. “The red is a bit harsh. I think a dark green would look better, maybe even a lighter olive green.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the decorations. Choose whatever you want.”
I nod. “Thank you. I’ll get started on that tonight then. May I be excused?”
He flinches at the question, a disgusted twist forming over his face. “What?—”
Rian grabs my arm as I move to stand and I stare down at him, expectantly.
“What just happened?”
“What do you mean?”
His lips press together and his fingers slowly unravel from where they’re holding me. “You’re acting strange all of a sudden. I don’t understand.”
A soft smile stretches on my lips. “I’m simply accepting my role as the perfect housewife whose sole purpose is to wander around mindlessly, changing decor on a whim. Does this displease you, Husband? How can I improve to serve you and your happiness?”
Rian scowls. “You’re being childish.”
“No, this is childish!” I push his plate of food in his lap. He jumps up from the chair, the marinated meat and vegetables falling to the floor in muffled thuds. I point a finger at his chest.
“You promised me a partnership. That we would work at this marriage equally. I will not be disrespected by you ending the conversation as if I am not allowed to contribute to it.”
He’s still wiping mashed potatoes off his clothes as I spin and march out of the room. I’ve barely made it to the stairs before howls of laughter break out and my cheeks flame in embarrassment. I can hear the men taunting Rian, pointing out that he has his work cut out for him. But as I make my way to our room, I notice that not one of them calls to punish me and something settles in my chest at that.
* * *
When Rian walks silently into the bedroom hours later, I set down the book I’m reading and wait. I’m sure he’ll acknowledge what happened in the dining room.
I can’t look away as he strips out of his shirt, covered in dried food, tossing it into the basket by the closet door. He rolls his neck and stretches out his shoulders, and my eyes roam over the tattoo on his back. The first night I saw it, I ran scared because I wasn’t sure if he would hurt me or not.
But now I see it and I realize how beautiful it is, how intricate and detailed it is.
“What do the words say?”
Rian looks up from the dresser as he pulls up the cotton pants he’s been changing into.
“Around the cross?”
I nod, folding my legs under me on the bed. I’ve never been one to wear pajamas to bed, but I’d found tons of pairs of matching silk sets, and I never want to wear anything else again. Deirdre assured me that they were bought specifically for me, that the men never bring women back to this house.
He walks toward me, his muscled stomach flexing and the tented bulge in his pants swaying with each step. I try to keep my eyes on his face, but my heated cheeks give away my thoughts as his lips quirk to the side. “It’s an oath.”
“To the brotherhood?”
Rian nods, climbing into bed next to me. “To the brotherhood. If we break the oath, may we meet a threefold death.”
I frown. “Threefold death?”
“We named ourselves after Daghdha because he’s known as the Irish god, a jack of all trades you could say. Everything we do is in his name, seeking his guidance and protection while we serve our families. We swore an oath, a pledge of loyalty to him and the brotherhood with the promise of a threefold death if we break it.”
He glances at me, the corner of his lips lifting when he can see how intrigued I am. His fingers reach out to grab my hand, turning it over to run along the lines of my palm. “A threefold death is said to be reserved for heroes, kings or gods. Three simultaneous deaths of the worst kind, usually by suffocation, drowning, and a fatal wound.”
“That sounds…brutal.” And impossible, but I keep that opinion to myself.
“It’s a punishment for a betrayal that will never be forgiven.” Rian looks up at me, a dark promise burning in his eyes. “ Má bhrisim mo mhionn, go n-osclaí an talamh chun mé a shlogadh, go n-éirí an fharraige chun mé a bhá, agus go dtite an t-aer orm. If I break my oath, may the earth open to devour me, the sea climb to drown me, and the sky plummet upon me.”
Shivers travel down my spine and I feel the weight of the words. I don’t believe in the gods, but Rian’s raw conviction makes me want to.
“I ran that first night because of the tattoo.”
His eyebrows raise. “You knew who I was?”
I shake my head. “No. Just the tattoo, and then I checked your wallet and recognized the name.”
Rian’s lips pull into a dark, sexy smile. “And you were scared? Of what? Me?”
I bite down on my lip but he reaches up, pressing his thumb to it and forcing me to let go. “My brother basically described you guys as assassins. I thought you would think I was there to spy on you or something.”
He laughs. “The way you fumbled with my clothes and where to put your hands told me how inexperienced you were. I would have never thought that.”
Slumping into the pillows, I try to bury my flushing face. “Don’t remind me! I was trying so hard not to seem like a virgin.”
“It was adorable. I wanted to see how far you would go.”
I peek up at him. “So if I had said no? You would have stopped?”
“Yes. Reluctantly, I admit. When I knew you were gonna let me in, I nearly blew my load putting on the condom.” He rolls closer to me, leaning up on his elbow as his fingers play with the waistband of my pajamas. “There’s something dark that stirs inside me knowing I’m the only one who’s been in that tight pussy.”
My stomach flexes when he slips into my shorts, and I open my legs as he teases up my slit. I let out a slow breath. “I wish I could say the same.”
Rian smirks, his fingers moving up to circle my clit. The low fire in my belly that I always have around him builds. “No you don’t. I would have been a fumbling idiot right next to you and we wouldn’t have had a good time.”
He leans forward, our faces a breath apart and my eyes drop to his lips.
“And I barely remember anyone before you.”
Any other time I’d rolled my eyes at the whispered confession, but I can practically feel his conviction. He kisses me in the next second, slow and sultry, and I kiss him back. This part is easy with Rian, our physical chemistry could never be denied. It’s everything else that messes with my mind. My hands push at his chest slightly so he pulls back.
“Are you mad at me from earlier?” It’s been driving me insane that he hasn’t said anything.
“Furious,” he replies, chasing my lips as I lean my head back again.
I moan, arching against him as his fingers continue to play with me. “Are you going to punish me?”
“Do you want to be punished?” The wicked intent behind his question can’t be mistaken, and I shiver.
“Will it hurt?”
He nips at my neck. “I’d never hurt you, baby.”
“I thought you would be more mad.”
Rian moves onto his knees, pulling my shorts off with a quick yank and then settling his broad shoulders between my thighs. My jaw drops as his thumbs press me open, and he leans forward, taking a sharp inhale through his nose.
“Did you know that some men can smell when their women are ovulating?”
My pussy clenches and I lick my lips. “Something about pheromones.”
“Yeah, something like that. I’m going to put a baby in you tonight,” he groans. He presses my legs into the mattress, opening me further for him. “And I’ve told you before, those men are my brothers. I trust them with your life and mine.” I assume he means I’m free to speak my mind in front of them.
He licks up my center before I can reply. My eyes pinch shut at the pleasure as Rian licks and sucks on my pussy as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and can’t get enough.
“Is that my punishment?” I breathe out when he kisses up my stomach. “Impregnating me?”
He pauses. “Do you consider it a bad thing to have my children?”
A stab in my heart has me shaking my head. “No, I—just. I don’t know, I thought you would be more mad.”
“It was a little childish, but I assume you’re not used to being told something without explanation. Your father and brother spoiled you.” He climbs over my body after shoving off his pants, resting his hips between my thighs. “Sometimes you just have to accept the answer because there is no explanation I can give you. That perhaps…you are not owed an explanation.”
My earlier anger flares but only a small gasp escapes my mouth when he pushes into me. His fingers grab my waist and his face twists in pained pleasure as he surges forward.
“You are free to act how you want in our home, Isabelle. You are my wife. ” Rian’s hoarse voice is accompanied with another thrust and he’s sheathed completely inside me. “I said I want you happy, but some things we’ll have to compromise on. I’ll never take you away from your passion, but you are no longer the simple daughter of a low-ranking businessman.”
I dig my nails into his shoulders because I understand everything he’s saying, but I don’t like it at the same time. The same reason no one bothered me before still stands even after my name has changed, because my father’s restaurant is nestled in the heart of the Famiglia’s territory. No one would dare attack me to get back at Rian without risking him and Luca retaliating.
But also…I am surprised how much I enjoyed cooking with Deirdre tonight. It reminds me of a time when I wasn’t pressured to be the very best, to get it right the first time. It reminds me…of cooking with my mama before she was too busy to cook for us anymore. What’s the point of cooking a meal when no one is coming home to eat it?
“Where’d you go?” Rian’s soft voice breaks my thoughts and I focus back on his face.
“I’m sorry for dumping the food on you,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, dismissing the apology we’ve already gone over. His slow, steady strokes pause and he stares down at me. “You like me inside you?”
A flush works up my neck. “I—yes.”
Rian pulls out and thrusts forward with a sharp roll of his hips. “Yeah, you do. And you want me to fill you with my cum, don’t you?”
I gasp, arching to meet his thrust, and nod.
He clicks his tongue. “Say it, Isabelle. Where do you want my cum?”
Swallowing to coat my drying throat, I dig my nails into his arms. We’ve never been very vocal while we fuck, so I’m struggling to speak. “Inside me, please.”
He leans over me, his palms pushing into the mattress by my head. “You want my babies, don’t you?”
I stare at his face, heat gathering in my core at every deep stroke of his cock moving in me. I do, I want his babies more than I thought I would. But I hate what I have to give up to achieve that. I resent the fact I don’t dislike being married to him or the idea of raising a family. Not after how hard I worked to be more than that.
His eyes soften, seeing the conflict in mine. “You can be anything you want to be, love. Just let me protect you.”
“I do. I want your babies.” My whispered confession has him groaning and he thrusts harder, pumping his cock in and out. The delicious feeling of him stretching inside me is one I’ve grown addicted to.
“Beg me to come inside you,” Rian grunts.
My nails dig into his arms. “Please.”
“More, Isabelle. Tell me how badly you want my cum.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, ignoring the mortification I feel at his demand. It’s just me and him, an intimacy between wife and husband. So I blow out a ragged breath and look up at him with hooded eyes. “Please, come inside me. I need your cum, Rian. I need my husband to fill me with his babies.”
“Shit, fuck. God damn it.” He lets out a long grunt as he presses forward as far as he can go, his cock swelling inside me as he throbs and releases wave after wave of his seed. A hollow giggle escapes my throat at his exclamations, but I’m lost to my pleasure as I come with him. Something about Rian losing control turns me on more than it probably should. I know we should think about the consequences of our actions more, but us having children was always going to be the finish line.
His panting breaths echo in my ear as I come back down from my high and he slips out, moving to lie at my side. I turn to face him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. I’ve gotten used to his presence next to me, and I didn’t realize how comforting it is to share a bed with someone.
Rian moves toward me, his hand cupping my breast. “You know what I was thinking about the other day?”
“Hmm?” A shiver skitters across my skin as his thumb rubs my erect nipple.
“The taste of your breastmilk. I can’t wait to try it.”
I push his hand away, scowling at him in earnest shock. “My m-milk isn’t for you, you freak.” I stumble on the words, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Rian laughs, grabbing me and pulling me back into his arms. He turns me so my back is plastered to his chest and his hand slips between my legs, playing with my sore pussy. “I’ll try it straight from the tap, suckling at your breasts like a babe.”
“No you won’t because…oh god,” I moan as Rian lifts my leg over his hip and slides back inside me, his cock already hard again. In this position he feels impossibly larger and I’m stretched full. His hand slips under my neck and down my chest to knead at my breast. His thrusts are slow with a steady rock of his hips, a vast difference from the way he pounds into me.
“You’re mine, Isabelle. Everything about you. Your sassy attitude, your stubbornness, your body, and the babies you’re going to give me.” His lips press against the shell of my ear as he rasps the words, “As much as I am yours.”