Chapter 32 – Gabriella
It was all my fault.
When I came up with the plan, it was perfectly simple.
I was going to dispose of the tracker at my in-law’s house.
Flush it down the toilet. When the abrupt departure happened, I didn’t have a chance to run to the bathroom.
So, I did the next best thing and put it in an old pair of shoes.
First, the mob boss probably didn’t wear them.
They were dusty and shoved in the back of the shelf.
Second, his house was well guarded. An assassin shouldn’t have been able to sneak inside.
And then, Liam had to come in, almost caught me red-handed, and dropped to his knees. It wasn’t sexual. It was tender. Devoted. Something I freaking craved at this point.
I had every opportunity to tell him on the drive home.
But every time I thought about telling him, I chickened out.
No, the tracker was safe and buried and couldn’t be used against my husband.
If my father accused me of disposing of it, I would have told him Liam left his shoes with his parents.
A natural thing for children to do, right?
And with the death of the assassin in the produce aisle, I was fairly certain a new one hadn’t been hired this quickly.
Wrong….
I’d been so freaking wrong.
Now my father-in-law was dead. And I could never tell my husband about the tracker, because it was me who led the gunman to the quaint little mansion on the Back Bay.
The only thing left to do was get through the next few days, pray that Liam never found out, and hope that in the end I could run fast enough. Cover my tracks well enough. And never look back.
I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest and wandered through the side halls of the church. St. Patrick’s was packed, and the funeral wouldn’t start for another hour.
Liam had spent the night here, keeping vigil over his father’s remains. I couldn’t take it any longer. I was about to pull my hair out. I had to see him. While this fresh death was a sin chalked to my account, while it would never be okay, I hated the distance.
Lifting a hand to silently order my entourage of guards to stay put, I stepped lightly to the back room. I didn’t knock. What was the point of asking for permission at this stage? Thankfully, the door wasn’t locked.
One look from those grey-blue eyes, and I felt the ground shift under my feet. Dio sopra, if he knew what I’d done—
Don’t show fear!
I gulped and stepped inside. I had to act like a caring, distraught wife who was attentive.
I could do that. It felt natural enough walking up to Liam, where he stood beside the coffin, and resting my hand on his.
I wasn’t brave enough to look at the casket.
That man died because of me. Padraig McDonagh was someone I didn’t know well but wished I had.
Liam let out a shuddering breath. He didn’t say anything, a small mercy. But he did pull my body into his. I angled my head for his mouth. He moved past me, kissing my throat. Those permanently bloodstained hands kneaded the flesh around my waist.
It dawned on me that it wasn’t a kiss he was after. I tensed. Liam wanted comfort…he wanted me.
The moment he reached for my skirt, I jolted back. “Liam, no!”
He cursed in that tragically beautiful language and dropped his face against my shoulder.
“It’s—It’s a sin!” I insisted, rubbing my hands over his body. “We can’t do that here.”
“So, get on your knees and work out your penance,” he rasped, tightening his hold on me. “Or let me work out mine.”
I swallowed hard. He was deadly serious. One way or another, unless I bolted from the room, he was going to make one of us a sinner—the other a saint. Well, I wasn’t running. Not yet. Not when he needed me.
It’s just a wooden box.
This is just a room.
Nothing religious….
I chanted those and other peppy phrases through my mind as I fell to my knees and reached for his slacks. One deep inhale, and I was assaulted by the scent of woods, musk, and man.
Dio sopra, this was so wrong. But I never hungered for anything more than I wanted to taste his cock.
Liam leaned over me, bracing his hands on the wall. His eyes were closed. Head bowed. It almost looked like he was praying.
Was I really doing this? With a body not three feet away? I swallowed hard.
And I slid my tongue over his cock the moment it sprung free of his boxer-briefs.
A full-bodied shudder ran through him at the contact.
I swirled my tongue over the tip, tasting a bead of salt before I pushed my lips over him. Liam moaned. He allowed me a moment to test his size. I adjusted my stance, lifting and arching to find the perfect angle. The moment I swallowed him, my control over the situation was done.
Liam thrust his gloved hand through the loose strands of my hair, holding my head in place. His cock drove between my lips as his hips pistoned forward. I gagged slightly. But there was no way I was stopping. I hollowed my cheeks, sucked, and swallowed.
The sound of his labored breathing made me bold enough to risk a peek.
A wild surge rushed through me at the site.
Liam’s face was twisted and strained. That was how he would look in battle, fighting for his life.
Since those dangerous eyes were closed, I watched as he pushed into my mouth without mercy.
I didn’t realize I made a sound until his eyes snapped open. That grey-blue gaze found mine.
I held it and rubbed my tongue against the velvety underside of his cock.
Liam visibly shuddered.
That gave me the courage to do it again.
And again.
He pulled out slowly, then sank into the heat of my mouth. “My sweet cailín.”
Our eyes remained locked. My heart thundered in my chest.
“My wife.”
Against the soft cushions of my bra, my nipples ached.
“My dirty little bird.”
My pussy clenched, desperately weeping for attention. If I was brave, I would have reached under my skirt and taken some pleasure of my own. But I wasn’t. I held onto his thighs, bracing myself against the storm raging above me.
I pressed my teeth against his cock as it thrust into my mouth. Liam groaned. He was on the edge. The destruction was visible.
He’s never looked so beautiful.
A different kind of ache cracked through my chest. I didn’t want to feel those things for him. But they were there, swirling like a gust of wind that I couldn’t escape.
So I flexed my jaw and took him deeper yet.
His whisper was tortured. “Forgive me.”
He’d stolen the very prayer from my heart.
I sucked harder, rubbing my tongue on the underside, and with a stifled roar, Liam’s cock exploded. Those hot ropes of cum shot down the back of my throat. His length twitched in my mouth.
Those hands, the ones that had been drenched in blood, over and over, cupped my face. “You’re so fecking perfect. It kills me every time I look at you.”
And because that was the way I wanted our time together to end, I kept my mouth shut. The chapter of my life marked by his name would never be stained with my sins.