CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Tierney
I loved Achilles, but I sometimes questioned his professional decisions, which seemed to directly cause bloodshed and underground wars.
“This is not necessary at all,” I said for the millionth time as I jerked a dress from a hanger in my walk-in closet.
A black bustier minidress that flaunted my assets…
and my new tan from the mini-vacation he and I had taken in the Hamptons earlier in the week.
“Meeting with Tristan Hale, with Lyosha of all people.”
If I were being honest, I was more nervous about seeing Alex again than I was about seeing the man who’d tried to kill me. For Tristan Hale, I was nothing but a botched assignment. It wasn’t personal, and he’d moved on to his next hit job. With Alex, it was different.
I’d managed not to meet him ever since he and Tiernan became friends again. Lyosha never treaded deep into the East Coast territory so as not to piss off the Ferrantes, and I never went to Vegas because…well, my taste ran more along the lines of French Riviera and less Sin City.
But Alex and I shared a childhood. A story. He knew things about me no one but Tiernan, Achilles, and Dr. Andrews were privy to.
“This is a recipe for disaster,” I added when I realized I wasn’t getting any response from Achilles. I slid into the dress, shimmying it up my waist and turning around for Achilles to zip. He did, dutifully. “Someone’s gonna die,” I warned.
“No one’s dying tonight, Piccola Fiamma,” he reassured me. “And we’ll be having a family dinner, as well. Our first official outing with our families as a couple.”
“Too many big egos in one room.” I ignored his words. “And why does it have to be in Forbidden Fruit? Why can’t we have a business meeting at the mansion or in one of your hotels?”
“Because I’m ambushing Tristan Hale.”
Groaning, I stomped to my shoe rack and plucked out my red heels. “I still don’t understand your need to see him.”
“I want to make sure he never comes near you again.” Achilles slid his watch-collection drawer open, clasping a Cartier on his thick wrist. “And I need to know why he missed that fucking shot.”
My blood froze in my veins. I spun to him slowly, my mouth agape. “So you think it’s weird that he missed too?”
“He never planned on killing you.” Achilles’s low growl rumbled between my hips, spreading heat along my spine. “And I want to know why. What was his plan, and what was he hoping to achieve?”
“You’re never going to stop until you know I’m completely safe, are you?” I sauntered to him on my kitten heels. Suddenly, all I wanted was to make this man understand just how much I desired him.
His lazy gaze flicked along my body, taking it in. “You make it sound like a bothersome objective.”
“Not bothersome.” I unfastened his belt with one hand, eyes still trained on his. Next, I rolled down the zipper of his Armani dress pants. “But impossible. We both know some things are out of your control.”
“Not when it comes to you.” His vehement, soft tone made me tremble so badly I wanted it injected into my veins.
How I thought I stood a chance against him, I’d never understand.
I craved him like the night desired the moon.
Like the desert longed for water. What we had, it was wild and chaotic.
But it was uniquely ours. No love would ever match.
I dropped to my knees and circled my fingers around the base of his cock.
It was already hard and throbbing, the tip shiny and purple, full of blood; shivers ran up and down my arms, and I tilted my head, giving his cock a long, lustful lick that made his hand wrap around my hair.
There wasn’t enough of it to tug yet, and the little I had was handled with surprising gentleness.
“What about sex, Tierney?” he drawled. “Regular normal people sex?”
“You’re the one who said we’re not normal people.” Reaching forward, I covered his crown with my mouth, slowly taking him all in until the tip tickled the back of my throat.
I knew he wanted what other couples had. Missionary. Eye contact. Some kind of emotion. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
“You want me to fuck your face?” he crooned.
“Yeah…” My voice trailed off, liquid heat rushing to my center. I could feel my pulse thrumming against my clit.
“Ask nicely.”
“P-please?”
“Nicer.”
I blinked. He smiled charitably, like I was an adorable, little puppy. Was he going to give me what I wanted? Was he going to finally degrade me?
“Open your mouth, Tierney.”
I did so fast my head spun. There wouldn’t be a second time, I sensed. Achilles did not like treating me the way I was used to being treated in bed.
He grabbed my jaw, peered inside with those dead, icy eyes, and spat into it. “Swallow.”
A rush of warmth shot to my core, and my muscles squeezed against nothing. It felt so alarmingly good I thought I was going to implode. What we were doing was so sick, but nobody knew how to touch me like he did.
I tried closing my mouth to swallow, but his grip on my jaw tightened. “Nah. With your mouth open. You need to work those throat muscles anyway.”
I tipped my head up, letting his hot saliva slide down my throat. It was gratifying and hotter than anything I’d ever done. Because it was Achilles who did it, and because away from me, from us, he was very good at being cruel. It wasn’t his second but his first nature.
“Good girl.” He grabbed the back of my neck and pushed all the way in until his cock followed the shape of my throat, stuffing it to the hilt, refusing to move.
He pulled out of my mouth, only to thrust back in in one violent movement.
I choked, coughing as tears prickled my eyes.
“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He didn’t stop.
Only picked up his pace, fucking my face, humming to the sound of my gagging as I tried to keep my lunch down.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He thumped his head against the wall behind him repeatedly. “I’m coming in your throat, and I want to go so deep you’re not even gonna taste it.”
All I could do was nod. I felt the hot, thick liquid coating the back of my throat, and I had to breathe through my nose. After he finished, he let out a ragged breath and let go of my neck. I collapsed at his feet, giggling to myself.
“What’s so funny?” He tucked himself in and fastened his belt before offering me a hand to stand up. I took it. It had only been three seconds, and he already looked as unruffled and clean-cut as though I didn’t just suck his cock in the middle of our walk-in closet.
“I was just thinking about Enzo.”
“Enzo?” His murderous glare silently informed me he was about to kill his own brother if I didn’t explain myself.
“Enzo,” I repeated, trailing a fingernail along the collar of his shirt. “I thought about how he’s always so worried about his protein intake when eighty percent of mine comes in the form of your cum.”
That did make Achilles bark out a laugh. He wrapped his arm around my neck and jerked me to him, kissing me hard. “Nice one, funny girl.” His lips moved over mine. “Think about someone else ever again when we’re together, and I’ll chop off his cock.”
Forbidden Fruit was the most exclusive underground club in Manhattan.
Arguably in the entire world.
No close second existed to the amenities and entertainment it offered.
With security and discretion guaranteed, it attracted some of the world’s most prominent billionaires and royals.
What started out a few years ago as a brothel during the day and a club during the night quickly expanded into a gentlemen’s club with a $450K-a-year membership fee and an invite-only operation.
Currently, it offered three gambling rooms, two restaurants, a bar, three lounges, a billiards room, and a high-end brothel. There was also a fully equipped, state-of-the-art gym, a sauna, an indoor Olympic pool, and two tennis courts.
I’d never actually been there before—Achilles had made sure to ban me from any establishment that his family owned—so I was a little giddy.
Of course, I was also frightened about coming face-to-face with Tristan Hale and nauseous about reuniting with Alex.
“Smoke on the job one more time and I’ll shove the cigarette all the way down your throat.” Achilles reprimanded the valet boy who rushed toward the Porsche, tossing his keys in his hands.
“S-s-sorry, sir.” The kid wiped his mouth quickly, cringing in fear.
We walked into the club, which was painted black from floor to ceiling, with golden accents on the grand chandelier and crown moldings. A sleek bar with golden arches and a waterfall greeted us.
A waiter in full attire glided toward us with a tray, putting in our hands Achilles’s favorite whiskey and my drink of choice—a French 75. I took a big sip, feeling the champagne tickling the back of my throat. “Okay, I do like this place.”
“Wait until you see the back rooms.” Achilles placed a possessive hand on the small of my back, guiding me past lounge chairs filled with businessmen and their much younger dates. We took a flight of curved stairs up to the next level and walked through double doors leading to the gambling room.
I immediately spotted my brother and his wife standing by a blackjack table. Lila was wearing a tight, bubblegum-pink minidress, and Tiernan was staring at her like she’d just saved the world from exploding.
She was playing her hand, and he was watching. I ambled toward them, Achilles at my heels. “Hey.”
“Hi!” Lila jumped on me with a hug, kissing both my cheeks. “You look so good. I’m so glad we’re finally doing this. Dinner is supposed to start in about twenty minutes.”
“How’s the game going?” I gestured to the cards.
“Really good. I’m winning.”
“She’s always winning.” My brother wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her temple.
“The secret is in learning how to count cards.” Lila grinned from ear to ear, turning her attention back to the table. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yeah?”
“Sof and I are going up to the mountains for a weekend. You know, to recharge. Wanna come?”