Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
I watch Saoirse adjust her dress in the hallway mirror and want to tear the midnight blue silk right off her body.
The fabric clings to every curve I've mapped with my eyes but never touched. Hugs the ass I dream about gripping while I fuck her against the wall. Shows just enough cleavage to make my cock ache with need.
She catches me staring in the reflection. Our eyes lock, and I see the same hunger burning in hers. The same desperate want we've been fighting for months.
"Stop looking at me like that," she whispers.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to devour me."
I step closer, close enough to smell her perfume. Close enough to see her pulse racing at her throat. "Because I do."
Her breath catches. "Conall?—"
"The Russians will be here soon." I force myself to step back before I pin her against that mirror and show her exactly what I want to do to her. "Are you ready for this?"
"No." She turns to face me, those blue-green eyes full of fire. "I'm not ready to be sold like cattle to the highest bidder."
The anger in her voice makes my blood sing. I want to channel that fury into something else. Want to lift her onto the hall table and bury my face between her thighs until she screams my name instead of discussing marriage to another man.
"Your father thinks this alliance?—"
"I don't give a damn what my father thinks." She moves toward me, and I catch the scent of her arousal beneath expensive perfume. "Do you know what I think about at night, Conall?"
My cock hardens instantly. "Don't."
"Your hands on my body. Your mouth on my skin." Her voice drops to a whisper that goes straight to my dick. "The way you'd fuck me if you stopped being such a gentleman."
"Saoirse." Her name comes out strangled.
"I touch myself thinking about you." Her confession nearly brings me to my knees. "Imagine it's your fingers inside me, making me come."
I grab her wrist, pulling her against me so she can feel how hard she makes me. "You're going to kill me."
She rocks against my erection, and I bite back a groan. "Good. Because watching another man court me might kill me first."
The front door chimes, announcing Petrov's arrival. The moment shatters as duty crashes back in.
"We can't do this," I rasp, forcing myself to release her.
"I know." But she doesn't step away. Doesn't stop looking at me like she wants to drop to her knees right here in the hallway.
"Miss Kavanagh?" One of the staff calls from the front entrance.
"Coming," she calls back, voice steady despite what just happened between us.
She straightens her dress, composing herself like the perfect crime princess she is. But I see the flush on her cheeks, the way her nipples press against silk. I know she's wet for me right now, and I have to watch another man try to claim her.
In the dining room, I stand behind Tiernan's chair where I can watch everything while fighting the urge to adjust my still-hard cock. Watching her with Petrov will be torture, but I can't look away.
Valentin Petrov enters like he owns the place. Tall, broad, confident in that way rich men are when they think money can buy anything. His eyes find Saoirse immediately, and the hunger in them makes me want to put my fist through his face.
"Saoirse." He takes her hand, pressing his lips to her skin in a kiss that lasts too long.
My hand moves to my gun without conscious thought. The image of her beneath him, crying out in pleasure while he fucks what should be mine, floods my mind with rage.
"Valentin." Her smile never wavers, but I catch the slight tension in her shoulders. "Welcome."
His bodyguard brings forward gifts—diamond earrings that would look stunning against her skin while she rides my cock, and leather-bound books that show he's done his research.
"Beautiful," she says, examining the diamonds.
All I can think about is how they'd sparkle while I have her bent over this very table, taking her from behind while she moans my name.
During dinner, Petrov regales her with stories of Russia, his estate, the life he could give her. Every word feels like a knife twisting in my gut.
"My home has a library you'd love," he tells her over wine. "Fifteen thousand volumes. We could spend hours discussing literature."
Hours. I imagine him spending hours between her thighs instead, making her come in ways I've only dreamed about.
"That sounds wonderful," she replies, playing her part.
But when she reaches for her wine glass, her fingers brush mine as I pour. The contact sends electricity straight to my cock. She feels it too—I see her breath hitch, see the way she presses her thighs together.
"Your daughter is remarkable," Petrov tells Niamh during dessert. "Beautiful, intelligent, refined. Our children would be extraordinary."
Children. Saoirse swollen with his child. Her perfect breasts heavy with milk. Her body claimed by another man in the most primal way possible.
My vision goes red. I want to vault over this table and tear his throat out with my bare hands.
"Marriage requires careful consideration," Niamh says diplomatically.
"Of course." Petrov's eyes never leave Saoirse. "I'm a patient man when it comes to things I want."
The possessive way he says it makes my blood boil. Like she's already his. Like I don't exist.
Saoirse's eyes find mine across the room, and the desperation I see there nearly breaks me. She's trapped, and we both know it. Duty demands she consider this alliance, even as every cell in her body wants to run to me instead.
"I'm honored by your proposal," she says with perfect grace. "Such decisions require family discussion."
Smart. Diplomatic. Everything a crime princess should be. But I see her pulse racing, see the way she keeps glancing at me like I'm her lifeline.
After dinner, Petrov requests a private moment on the terrace. I have to let him take her out there, alone, while every instinct screams to follow.
Through the glass doors, I watch him touch her arm. See him lean close, whispering in her ear. My cock throbs with jealous rage as I imagine what he's saying. How he wants to touch her. What he'd do to her on their wedding night.
When his hand slides down to her lower back, possessive and familiar, I have to grip the doorframe to keep from charging out there.
Twenty minutes of torture before they return. Saoirse looks composed but pale. Petrov appears smug, satisfied with whatever promises he extracted.
"Thank you for a lovely evening," he tells Niamh, kissing her hand.
Before leaving, he approaches me. "You've served this family well," he says quietly. "When Saoirse becomes my wife, I'd welcome your skills on my protection team."
The offer hits like a physical blow. He wants me to watch them together. To guard their bedroom door while he fucks the woman I love. To protect their children—children that should be mine.
"I serve the Kavanaghs," I manage through gritted teeth.
"The offer stands." His smile is all predator. "I take care of what's mine."
After they leave, I start clearing glasses with hands that shake from suppressed violence. The family disappears into the study to discuss terms while I'm left alone with my rage.
Saoirse appears in the doorway, and the sight of her nearly brings me to my knees.
"He wants an answer within the week," she says quietly.
"And?"
"I can't do this, Conall." Her voice breaks. "I can't marry him when all I want is you."
The confession destroys what's left of my control. I drop the glasses I'm holding and cross to her in three strides, backing her against the wall.
"You think I want to watch him touch you?" I growl, bracing my hands on either side of her head. "Think I want to stand guard while he fucks you every night?"
"Then don't let him." Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. "Take me instead. Right here, right now."
My cock presses against her through our clothes, and she rolls her hips, seeking friction. The moan that escapes her nearly snaps my restraint.
"If I touch you now, I won't stop," I warn, my voice rough with need.
"Good." She reaches between us, palming my erection through my pants. "I don't want you to stop."
I capture her mouth in a kiss that's all desperation and hunger. She opens for me immediately, her tongue tangling with mine as I devour her like a starving man.
My hands find her ass, lifting her so she can wrap her legs around my waist. She's so wet I can feel her heat through the silk of her dress.
"Need you," she gasps against my throat as I grind against her.
I shove her dress up, my fingers finding the edge of her panties. She's soaked through the lace, and when I stroke her through the fabric, she cries out.
"You're so wet for me," I growl, pushing the lace aside to touch her properly.
She's molten silk against my fingers, and when I slide one inside her, her head falls back against the wall.
"Yes," she breathes, rolling her hips to take me deeper. "More."
I add another finger, stroking that spot that makes her gasp. Her nails dig into my shoulders as I work her with my thumb on her clit, my fingers inside her pussy.
"Come for me," I demand, increasing the pressure. "Let me feel you fall apart."
She shatters around my fingers, her pussy clenching as she comes with my name on her lips. The sight of her lost in pleasure nearly makes me come in my pants.
Before she can recover, I drop to my knees, shoving her dress higher. She tries to protest, but I silence her by putting my mouth on her through her soaked panties.
"Conall," she moans, her hands tangling in my hair. "Someone could?—"
"Let them watch," I growl, pulling her panties aside and burying my tongue in her pussy.
She tastes like honey and sin, and I devour her like I'm dying of thirst. Her legs shake as I work her with my tongue, alternating between fucking her with it and circling her clit.
"I'm going to come again," she warns, her voice breathless.
"Good." I suck her clit between my lips, and she explodes, her thighs clamping around my head as she rides my face through her orgasm.
I stand, kissing her hard so she can taste herself on my tongue. She fumbles with my belt, desperate to return the favor, but footsteps echo in the hallway.
We spring apart, both breathing hard. I manage to get myself back together just as Tiernan appears, though my cock strains against my zipper and her scent covers my face.
"The terms are acceptable," he announces, oblivious to what he just interrupted. "We'll give Petrov our answer tomorrow."
Saoirse smooths her dress with shaking hands, her panties still pushed aside under the silk. "Of course, Father."
After he leaves, we stare at each other across the dining room. The air between us crackles with unfinished business.
"Tonight," she says, and it's not a question. "Finish what you started."
"This changes everything."
"Everything changed the moment you put your mouth on me." She walks to the door, then turns back. "My room. Midnight. I want your cock inside me when I come next time."
She leaves me standing there with my dick still hard and my world turned upside down.
In six hours, I'll cross every line I've sworn to protect. I'll take what belongs to another man and damn the consequences.
Because watching her marry Petrov would kill me anyway.
At least this way, I get to touch heaven before I burn.