Chapter Twenty-Five
Autumn
“Good morning, trouble,” he whispers, his hand already between my legs, his hard cock pressing at my entrance.
“Good—” A moan escapes my lips as he thrusts in, one hand fisting my hair and pulling my head back to him, the other sliding to my clit, where his thumb presses and traces torturous slow circles.
“Fuck, you’re so tight in the morning, baby.” He moves his hips, and I arch my back, meeting each thrust, letting him sink deeper inside me.
“More,” I moan, and he smirks.
“My needy little wife.” He picks up speed, turning my face into the mattress. He grabs my hips and pulls me up just enough to slide a pillow underneath, then he grips my ass hard.
“I can’t wait to fuck this pretty ass.” He slaps my cheek so hard it stings, and I yelp. “Watching my cum drip from your tight hole.”
He presses the tip of his cock against my entrance again and slides in, slower this time. Then he leans over me, each hand planted on either side of my head, but his body doesn’t touch me; only his cock claims me.
“Hands on the headboard,” he orders, and I obey, placing my open palms there.
“Like this?” I ask, my voice shaking with excitement.
“Like that, good girl.” He kisses the top of my head. “Now, hold yourself while I fuck you.”
Before I can ask what he means, he pulls out and then slams into me with brutal force.
I whimper, my arms bracing to stay in place as he slams harder and harder, his grunts filling the room.
With each impact, my pussy rubs against the pillow underneath, the pressure mixing with the stretch of his big, hard cock to send waves of pleasure and pain up my spine.
The sound of his hips and balls slapping my skin echoes through the room, and I hold on tight while pressing back into him.
“Fuck, Autumn.” He groans, leaning down to bite my shoulder hard, almost breaking the skin.
“Harder, slap me,” I gasp, and he stops, letting out a dark chuckle.
“Want me to slap you?” he asks with amusement, and I bury my face in the mattress.
“Oh my God,” I murmur.
“No kink shaming here, trouble. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” He whispers it against my ear, his breath hot and possessive.
“I want—” I stop, embarrassment flooding me.
“You want—?” he prompts, his voice a low growl.
“To feel pain and pleasure.” I lift my head, tilting it to the side to meet his eyes locked on me. “I want you to own me.”
“Oh, trouble.” He groans, straightening up to slap my ass harder than before, then he starts pounding into me with brutal thrusts. It hurts, but it feels so good at the same time. I moan his name, my body shivering with pleasure.
His hand tangles in my hair again; he grips and pulls, forcing me to arch for him, to take him deeper. “Like this, all mine. My fucking wife,” he groans, his voice deep and feral.
The sensation pushes me over the edge; my body convulses as he yanks my hair harder, the sting blending with the burn in my lower belly and the relentless thrust of his thick dick—it’s all too much.
“You look so fucking beautiful when you come.” He draws out my orgasm until it feels like an eternity of pleasure.
When my body finally relaxes, he releases my hair, slaps my ass again, and grabs my hips, his fingers digging painfully into my skin.
With each thrust, I reach for the headboard to keep from sliding forward and hitting it.
One last hard, heavy thrust and he growls like an animal. I feel his hot cum filling me, his cock hard and pulsing inside.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
We head to Teine, one of Flynn’s clubs, with Kaden and two security guards. The new liquor shipment is arriving. I was supposed to stay at the mansion, but I needed to get out; I’m sick of being locked inside that place.
The bouncer and two barmen are already here, even though it’s only a little past two in the afternoon.
The delivery crew brings the crates inside while I wander the club, taking a moment for myself.
I love the way it looks: beautiful and bold.
Red velvet, black leather. The dance floor stretches wide, and two balconies rise above it, the steel railings carved with intricate black Celtic knots.
“Enjoying yourself?” Flynn whispers behind me, and I can’t help but smile.
Two days ago, I wanted to kill him. Now my entire body warms just from his voice. Flynn Brady was ready to lose everything for me. He married me to save me, but it feels like something more. I won’t call it love, but it’s something… obsessive.
“I’d love to come here when it’s open. Maybe dance a little,” I say as his strong arms wrap around my waist.
“Tonight?” he murmurs.
I gasp and turn in his arms. “Really?” I search his eyes, and all I see is softness, care, something I don’t understand.
“Call Viviana. I’ll invite Declan. You can celebrate your wedding.” He kisses my forehead.
I squeal, pulling out my phone to text Viviana while Flynn calls Declan. They both agree. My stomach flutters, and I feel like a teenager on her first night out.
We head to the penthouse. Kaden parks underground; the place is massive. Flynn opens my door, and we walk to the elevator. Once inside, he presses the last button, his hand resting around my waist.
“Make sure everything is safe tonight,” he tells Kaden.
Kaden nods, throwing me a smirk.
“What?” I ask, frowning, crossing my arms.
“Who knew a little thing like you would tame a wolf like Flynn fucking Brady?” he laughs, and Flynn punches his shoulder.
“Feck off, Kaden.” Flynn’s Irish accent thickens, and I laugh, but the words settle deep inside me. Tame him? Me?
Truth is, I’m scared. I’ve never felt anything strong before. The stalker chased every man out of my life, every chance I had at a normal moment. Part of me fears he’ll escalate. The other part hopes he’ll leave me alone now that I’m married, especially to Flynn Brady.
We step into the penthouse, and my jaw drops. The place is exquisite. Tall ceilings. Modern iron lights. Black walls. Rugs, curtains, pictures. It feels personal. Alive. Nothing like that cold mansion.
I walk slowly, taking it all in. The black skull ashtray, the leather couches, the shelves packed with books. Then my eyes land on a framed picture near the huge window. A couple with a small child. A little Flynn with soft eyes.
“My parents,” Flynn says behind me, and his voice carries pain.
“What happened to them?” I ask, then regret it immediately. I want to know him, all of him, but maybe this isn’t the moment. Flynn sighs, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, exposing strong forearms dusted with veins and tattoos.
“My father died. During the Dark Wars.” His eyes stay on the picture. “I was on my way but got there too late. He knew it could be an ambush.”
Guilt threads through every word.
I reach for his hand and pull him closer. “It wasn’t your fault,” I whisper.
He gives a small nod. I remember the bodies that washed up in the river, the news on TV that lasted a few weeks. Everyone said the Russians were at war with the Irish. But whatever happened, it was a lot more than that.
It was hell.
“You look happy.” I point to the picture, and he chuckles.
“I was. They were amazing parents.” His hand slips around my waist. “My mother couldn’t live without the love of her life. Her heart couldn’t handle it. She passed less than a year later from a heart attack.”
I turn toward him and wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down. “Oh, Flynn…” I kiss him, then guide his head to my neck. His breathing changes, becoming faster, heavier, and I feel the rage and grief rolling through him.
“I haven’t seen my parents in years,” I whisper. He lifts his head, staring at me, and I shrug softly. “We’re very close. They did everything they could, even hired a private detective, but no one could find him. The threats got worse, and I was afraid he’d hurt them, so I left.”
“You’ll see them soon. I promise, trouble.” His hand cradles my face as he leans in and kisses me gently, almost lovingly.
A throat clears behind us, snapping the moment. Flynn rolls his eyes with a smirk. Kaden stands there.
“Everything’s ready for tonight,” Kaden says.
Flynn nods. “There are clothes in the closet in my room.” He steps back and gestures toward the hallway. “Last door.”
“Clothes? For me?” I blink, stunned.
“Of course. You need things at the mansion and here.” He says it like it’s obvious. I let out a breathy laugh, twirl, and stride toward the room as Kaden chuckles behind me.
I open the door. This bedroom feels more modern than the one in the mansion. It’s black sleek furniture, straight lines, lights embedded in the ceiling, a black faux-fur rug by the bed. A massive painting covers half the wall: ravens and dark oak trees. Eerie and beautiful.
There’s a door to the bathroom and one to the closet.
I open the closet and find one side full of suits, black sweatpants, and shirts.
On the other, women’s clothes. I run my fingers through them.
They look expensive, but the tags are gone.
He knows I’d panic if I saw the prices. Dresses, jeans, soft sweaters.
I pick a short black dress and bite my lip. I hope it looks good.
I hurry to the bathroom. Grey walls, black vanities with gold accents, a walk-in shower, and a tub big enough for both of us with room to spare. I undress and slip the dress on. I check myself in the mirror, tilt my head.
It won’t work. The lines show.
I slide my panties off, look again.
Much better. No marks, nothing breaking the silhouette.
“Are you preparing to give me easier access, wife?” Flynn’s voice makes me jump. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, eyes dragging slowly over my body. There’s fire in them, hungry and consuming.
“No,” I blush, stepping back. “No sex in the pretty dress.” I try to sound firm, but my voice betrays me.
“Not now.” He steps closer. His fingers brush the hem of the dress, and my skin prickles, breath catching. “But after.”
His mouth dips to my neck. “Are you wet?”
“Y-yes.”