18. Lucie
EIGHTEEN
lucie
“Fuck, Lucie,” Declan hisses as I dart around Seamus and narrowly miss Declan’s grabbing hand.
“Get back here. He’ll kill you. He’ll kill me.”
But still I run to where I lost sight of Callahan and stop short when Declan finally nabs me.
It’s just him. I look back.
The other two are tense, standing next to the limo.
“I’m serious, he will. Callahan’s my brother, but he’s a stone-cold killer. Don’t piss him off.”
“This is my life now, I want to see?—”
I take off once again when he loosens his grip and looks back at his brothers.
Two men approach them and Declan’s clearly torn.
But I hide in a doorway and he curses and heads back to the limo, his footsteps fading a little.
There are people around, but it’s still quiet.
This part of the street has storefronts that are closed down and apartment buildings, not much else.
A sudden shudder runs through me when I hear him.
I know I’m being stupid doing this, but I want to know.
I need to know. I need…
I need answers, and I’m about to step fa rther into view when the man about Callahan’s height speaks in heavily accented English.
“He wants you out, or he’ll finish the job with your brother.”
A coldness hits me.
“Where is he?”
“Around.”
Callahan slams him into the brick wall, and I bite down on a gasp.
“Don’t play games with me. Either you know something or you’re dead.”
This is the real Callahan.
Stripped bare of charm, of the coating of niceties he has with me.
He’s sleek, powerful, and deadly.
The man’s feet dangle as Callahan clenches a hand around his neck and there’s a gurgle in the back of his throat.
He flails, and I catch a glimpse of a gun the guy tried to grab.
Callahan just takes it and shoves it into his gut.
The man’s eyes meet mine and I’m frozen.
I don’t know if Callahan notices, but he doesn’t turn.
“Here’s the thing. I want to know where he is. So I’m going to let you down and you can tell me.”
He does just that, but doesn’t release the man’s throat.
And a terrible grin appears on the man’s mouth.
He tries to speak and Callahan loosens his hold.
“Fuck you. Who’s the pretty girl? Piotyr will love her.”
“Paddy won’t be setting eyes on her,” Callahan growls.
“You have one minute. Where’s Osinov staying?”
“Fuck you,” the man says.
“You’re really not my type,” Callahan says as the guy tries to get at something in his jacket.
“And I wouldn’t.”
“Fuck you, the de Rosa name won’t protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. ”
The man lunges for something and Callahan moves so fast I’m almost turned on.
He slams the guy’s hand against the wall and a switchblade clatters down.
“Minute’s almost up.”
The man doesn’t answer, and Callahan releases him.
The man looks up. “You?—”
Callahan’s fist moves fast, drives up like a weapon, hard into the man’s throat.
He gurgles, gasps, clutches his throat, and falls.
With a sigh, Callahan takes the guy’s feet and drags him behind the dumpster.
“Here. Now, Lucia.”
“How…” I stumble to him and I’m suddenly against that wall, and he kisses me so deep, I stop thinking.
His mouth is ravenous, his kiss hot and hard and carnal.
My body is still humming from what he did to me at the club, and this only adds fuel to the already smoldering fire.
“I saw you,” he says, breaking the kiss.
He runs his hand between my legs, stroking my pussy and I shudder.
“Fuck, if you weren’t a virgin…”
With that, he grabs me, tucks me under his arm, and leads me out, kissing my throat as we go, right as two people go past, giggling.
The limo pulls up and the door opens, light spilling out.
I’m pushed inside and Callahan makes a call, then sends a text.
“Cleanup crew on the way.”
“I tried to stop her, but?—”
“I’m aware Lucie’s a fucking handful.”
“You killed him?” Torin asks.
“Did he tell you where Paddy is?”
“No, but he knows we’re here. Don’t worry, I’ll get him. The man’s going to wish he never set foot in New York.” Then he turns to me.
“And you’re not going to be out of my sight. ”
Oh boy.
It shouldn’t turn me on, his barbaric words.
And the powerful killer at the heart of Callahan, one I’ve seen up close in action more than once, should shock and turn me off.
Especially this time when he thought he was alone, when he didn’t immediately notice me.
Or maybe he did and he didn’t care.
But this Callahan was dangerous, a killer with utterly no remorse.
I don’t think that he’d have let the man go, even if he told Callahan what he wanted.
But when he kissed me, it surpassed that very first meeting in the park, one I could have, if I wanted, passed off as an act of heroics.
After all, he saved me.
Yes, and then killed a few more people.
Violence evidently turns me on.
His brand of violence, anyway.
And it shouldn’t.
“What is going on in that mind of yours, Lucie?” he asks as he strips down to his boxer briefs and goes into the bathroom, turning on the shower.
It doesn’t take me long to strip off the dress.
And I follow him, not letting myself think, just…
I don’t know.
Wanting him.
“That maybe something’s wrong with me,” I say.
He stops, his back to me, but his gaze is locked on my image in the bathroom mirror and I stare, too.
Not at him looking at me, but at the tattoos on his back.
A warrior’s fist clenched, dripping blood.
And the word “freedom” that runs along the bottom.
Surrounding it are images: a Celtic cross, more writing in what I assume is Gaelic.
Bloodied images and a small tree.
All of it mixed in perfect, chaotic symbiosis.
Now my eyes drop down to his ass, tight in the black underwear.
“I liked it.”
He turns.
“Liked what, Lucie?”
“The violence.”
“No, you didn’t. I’m a fucking killer. There’s nothing but ambition and grudges and lack of conscience in me. You like that I’m nice to you. You like the attention. You like?—”
“You,” I whisper, pushing down my panties, aware I’m still in the heels.
“I like you.”
“That’s fucking stupid. Don’t. You belong to me, Lucie. I’ll treat you right. I’ll keep you safe, but good? I’m not good. You’re the type who likes good, not violent cunts.”
I stalk up to him and shove him.
“Don’t tell me what I like.”
“And don’t poke the fucking bear,” he says, sliding an arm around me.
“Consequences.”
I tug at his underwear.
“Maybe I want those consequences.”
His eyes narrow and he picks me up, carries me out of the bathroom, and throws me on the bed.
“Maybe you don’t want your virginity.”
“Maybe I don’t.”
“Then face your consequence, because once I take you, this ownership is complete. You’re mine. Always.”
Oh God.
That shouldn’t sound good.
I know it isn’t. I know the words are, at their core, terrifying, but right in this moment I don’t care.
He pushes off his boxer briefs, and that thick, beautiful cock juts out, pierced, the end beaded with precum, just for me.
And he gets on the bed, pushing my legs apart as he settles in over me, up on his elbows.
It’s a tease of his cock brushing me.
It’s an electric live wire I’m up against and I’m hot, my flesh damp, every single nerve ending tuned into him.
It doesn’t matter what he did at the club.
This is different.
This is the thing that apparently means something.
I’m not even sure it ever did.
I just never did it.
Never got the chance, never met the right guy.
Except now it’s the most life-changing moment.
It means the world, and it’s with him.
The wrong man.
Who somehow seems so right.
A dark waving lock of hair hangs down over his face as those indigo blue eyes search my face, and he smiles.
It breaks something in me.
Pushes at my heart.
But he’s not ever getting in there.
He doesn’t want in there, anyway.
He can have my body, soul, but not my heart.
That’s mine.
Callahan kisses me softly, brushes his lips over my eyelids, then back down to my mouth where he trails kisses to my ear.
“Ready, Lucie Joy?”
“Yes.”
He slides a hand down the side of my face and my breath hitches.
I want… I want my wedding night.
A real one. With messy sex and me getting lost in him.
I want to leave this bed a woman.
Trite, stupid, but I don’t care.
His hand keeps traveling lower, then slips between my thighs, his fingers delicate over the folds of my pussy, not touching my clit.
“I was going to prepare you, but you’re so fucking wet.” Callahan laughs softly.
“Like a dripping faucet.”
“I’m sorry?— ”
He snatches his hand back and grabs my face, and I can smell my juices on him.
“Don’t you ever fucking apologize to me about wanting sex, about being so hot and wet. Being wet is a turn-on. It means you’re ready, it announces your want. It’s an ego stroker for any man.”
“What if I’m wet for everyone?”
He nuzzles his lips close to my ear as his hand returns between my legs.
“Then I’ll have to kill everyone.”
I want to laugh, but I can’t because I think he’s serious.
He’s stroking me, his fingers sliding inside, scissoring and stretching me and it’s good.
So good. “I’m big. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I want you now.”
His smile’s back as his eyes glint.
“Pushy little lass, aren’t you? Wrap your legs around me.”
I do, and he withdraws his fingers and then the head of his cock pushes at me.
“Oh.” The first piercing drags and there’s a pinch of pain as I sharply stretch, and then the first rung.
“Oh!”
“I’m going slow.”
And he does.
Inch by inch, he sinks into me, and somewhere the pinching and burning stops and a sweet stretch takes over.
I’m full, getting fuller, and those piercings touch everywhere.
When his balls graze me and it’s almost uncomfortable, his cock pushes up against something.
He settles over me and I start to move.
“Don’t. Not unless you want it over before it’s begun.”
“Is that normal?”
“No, you have a particular way that makes me fucking hard all the time, ready to explode.”
“Are you like that with any other women? I could kill them? ”
He groans and buries his face in my neck, biting.
“You’re not helping, Lucie Joy. You’re pushing buttons. But you’re not a killer.”
“That I know of.”
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“Why is this conversation turning me on?”
Excitement bubbles inside me, and he licks my skin, kissing me up to my lips as he slowly rocks against me.
I kiss him back, enjoying the heat and the stretch, the buzzing desire growing inside, and pleasure bursts like sparks.
And I realize… we’re having sex.
I start to move with him, and things pivot as he lifts his head, eyes intense, passionate, locked on me as he begins to thrust in earnest.
At first they’re shallow, but soon he’s invading me in waves, hitting something that’s delightful and incredible inside.
And with each thrust, the little rub of the piercings makes things flutter and clench.
He moves harder, deeper, watching me the entire time until we’re slamming together, the pleasure building higher and higher.
I try to gulp down air, but my lungs don’t work.
I wrap my arms and legs around him as he claims me over and over, the strokes he’s pushing into me equal parts brutal and delicious.
“More!”
He goes harder, and a small, keening sound breaks free, filling the air as I greedily lift my hips, giving him all the access I can.
When he reaches down between us and twists my clit, I cry out, shattering, and he loses control, a pure savage beast, rutting and slamming into me.
I let him… I want him to.
His savagery makes the waves hitting me intensify and I think I come again, right when he slams in so deep I can feel his cock jerk inside me, feel the heat of him coming inside me .
And I know I want all that again.
When he’s done, when I’m done, he stays in me, rolling us over so I’m on top.
With a stroke of my hair, he says, “Consequences served, Lucie. You belong to me now. In all the ways.”
In that moment, it’s exactly where I want to be, claimed as his. In that moment.