Chapter 39 You’re a Bad Idea
YOU’RE A BAD IDEA
brIAR
Then…
Freshly tattooed, I hop on the back of Rí’s bike.
I don’t ask where we’re going, just enjoying the spontaneity of it all.
I don’t know what time it is, and I don’t care.
He brings us underground into what looks to be an empty private parking garage.
Pulling into a parking space, Rí kills the loud engine, and the sudden silence is a shock.
To break the tension, I decide to crack a joke as I dismount the bike, sliding the helmet off of my head. “So… is this the part where you kill me?” I laugh, but you can hear the nerves in it.
“Kill you?” He arches a brow, amusement on his face. “Oh, now, little Rose, why would I do that? I’m not nearly done with you yet.” He steps closer, one hand taking the helmet from me, the other tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. I swallow hard. “Still looking to go far, love?”
I stare up into his eyes—his beautifully fractured, soulful eyes.
“Yes,” I breathe, almost inaudibly.
The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk, and he steps back, holding out his hand for me to take.
“C’mon.”
I stare at him—at his hand for another second before taking it, letting him lead me to a waiting elevator, the door held open by a man in a dark suit. “Rí,” the man says, nodding respectfully at the both of us.
That’s the second person to call him that tonight… I’d thought it was a fake name, but Jace, back at the tattoo shop, had also called my tattooed nightmare Rí.
I have little time to think about it though, because Rí releases my hand, standing next to me as the man steps out, leaving the two of us in the elevator alone. And as the doors slowly inch closed, all I can think about is him at my side. Feeling his eyes on me, I blush, biting my lip.
The door still has another couple of centimeters to go when he grabs my waist, spinning me, the two of us falling back against the far wall, his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, tasting, consuming, exploring.
I break the kiss with a whimper, looking to the sky when his palm finds my breast, cupping it over my shirt. His mouth drops to my throat.
I’m nearly breathless when I say, “You’re a bad idea.”
“The worst,” he whispers right up against my neck, his breath hot, soft lips trailing featherlight kisses all the way up and down my jaw before they stop, hovering just over mine. “But something tells me you’re tired of pretending to be the good girl.”
I pull back to stare at him, cheeks growing hot. “I am not—”
He smirks at me, his devil eyes seeing through to my soul. I stare at him—really stare—and something passes between us in that moment, something deep, indiscernible, and inescapable.
“Fuck it,” I breathe, and kiss him.
I’m aware of everything, yet it’s all a blur… his mouth is on mine, my fingers tangle in his hair. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs tight around his waist.
I barely hear the ping of the elevator when we reach our destination. It’s dark, but that doesn’t disguise the sheer size of the loft we walk into. The lights are off, but it’s lit up by the city surrounding it, the lights and moonlight shining through floor-to-ceiling windows.
Rí doesn’t set me down, doesn’t even lift his lips off mine as he carries me down a darkened hallway. Together we crash through a door and into a bedroom. He has me naked in seconds.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, stealing a glance at my body.
His words, and the look in his eyes when he said them, gets past all of my defenses, burrowing down deep into my heart.
He pulls his shirt off and, holy fucking shit, I can’t stop my mouth from falling open.
I saw his chest back at Jace’s, the bandage just over his heart covering the new ink is proof, but here, the shadowed lighting highlights every curve, every ripple of muscle; the ink he has covering most of one arm and his chest appears even darker, nothing but black or gray, not a trace of color to be seen.
Next thing I know, his pants are gone and…
Oh.
I gasp, letting my eyes drop. No, there is nothing soft about this man at all.
He’s already stalking for me, catching me, claiming me, walking me back until we’re under the archway separating the bedroom and bathroom. There, he drops to his knees.
“What are you—Oh my god.” I shiver when he licks me, a deliciously dangerous feeling exploding out from my core.
I lean back against the threshold, keeping my balance as he devours me, clinging to the wall behind me with one hand while twisting my fingers into his hair with the other. His tongue flicks my now wicked little clit, and I almost lose it. I swear I feel him smile when I scream out.
One of his hands pushes the underside of my thigh, pushing my leg until it’s over his shoulder, arching my back off the wall.
He gives me no warning when he suddenly stands, taking me with him, my upper shoulders sliding up the wall.
Rí throws my other leg over his shoulder, and I have just enough time to grab hold of the top of the arch above me before he goes back in.
I groan deeply when he sucks down hard on my clit.
He zeroes in with his tongue, and I cling to the wall, his hair, anything I can when I come for the second time tonight, hard, all over his face.
When it’s over and my screams turn to ragged breaths, he steps back, sliding me off his shoulders, I plummet to the floor. I let out a yelp, right before he catches me, I wrap my hands tightly around his neck.
“I thought you were going to drop me.” My words come out in a trembling rush. I’m still breathless from what just happened.
He smirks down at me, the green in his eyes sparkling.
“Never.”
I cling to him as he carries me over to the bed, lying me down gently before running his hands up my body as he leans over and kisses me. His fingers trail back down my side, and I shiver.
A little scream sneaks out when he slips two fingers roughly inside of me, the intrusion unexpected, his thumb pressing down on my still-pulsating clit, sensitive from the orgasm he gave me just minutes ago.
“That’s two, love, shall we go for number three?”
My breath catches, because until a couple of hours ago, I would have been shocked that one happened, but three?
I swallow, my eyes dropping to take in the sheer size of him again.
“Umm, okay?”
But he backs up, shaking his head.
“Oh no, love, if you want me to fuck you, I’m going to need nothing other than a yes out of you.”
My eyes widen, and I stare up at him, frozen in shock.
He tilts his head, patiently waiting for my answer. After a few seconds, he goes to push off of me entirely, but my hand shoots out, stopping him.
“No, stay I—” I bite my lip. “Yes, I want to…”
But he still looks unconvinced, and my eyes narrow a little. I need his hands back on me like I need oxygen to breathe right now.
“Rí?”
“Aye?” he says, looking down into my eyes.
“I dare you to fuck me.” I smirk, giving him a devilish little look.
His jaw ticks, and that’s my only warning before he rises, grabbing hold of both of my ankles and flipping me to my stomach. A gasp escapes me when Rí grips my hips with both hands and tugs me back until I’m bent over on my knees.
“I accept.” His grip on my hips tightens just before he drives himself in deep.
He wraps my hair around his fist, tugging hard, forcing my back to arch even more but then… Oh. The new angle redirects his thrusts, and I whimper as he pounds mercilessly into an increasingly sensitive area.
A now familiar heat builds—similar, but different from before. It feels wilder, far-reaching and uncontrollable. Moans and screams flow freely from me now. I can’t stop them—can’t do much of anything—as Rí drives me straight over the edge.
My whole body shakes, and it doesn’t stop, the cascading waves of pleasure crashing through me until my eyes roll back in my head.
“Fuck,” I hear Rí say, and there’s one last thrust before he pushes deep, releasing my hair and falling down over me, both arms on either side of my head. I can feel his dick twitch inside of me as he comes, holding himself deep until it’s over.
He pulls out, and I collapse down fully onto the mattress. Rí drops next to me on his back, reaching down to drag me further up, until my head is on his chest and I’m listening to the sound of his heart.
We’re both quiet, and he runs his fingers lazily through my hair. I exhale. I have no idea what time it is, but his slow, gentle strokes are lulling me to sleep.
There’s one thing I need to know first.
“Rí?”
“Mmm?” The sound of his voice is soft, like he might be falling asleep, too.
“One question?”
He hums his agreement, moving down from my hair to trace light circles across the bare skin of my back.
“Back at the tattoo shop, Jace called you Rí… and then, the doorman downstairs… is that—is that your real name?” I’m dancing into dangerous territory here.
“No, it’s a nickname,” he confesses.
“What does it mean?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me, even as my eyelids grow heavy and fall… sleep beckons.
“It’s Gaelic,” he says, his voice low, “for King.”