Chapter 4
Alina
He follows me like I’m dragging a string tied around his waist. He shuts the door behind him with his foot, slamming it shut.
“You might regret this.”
“I already do.”
“But you’re not stopping.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Good, because I’m not either.”
He keeps following me. Step for step. Slowly and carefully. Staring at me the whole time, eyes roaming my body, making goosebumps shiver down my naked skin.
We reach the bedroom.
I stumble on the edge of the rug.
And Seamus surges forward like that one wrong move breaks the spell. His right hand sneaks around my hips and presses into my lower back, making me gasp with surprise as his other hand slips into my hair.
He grips hard.
We stand there a moment. Me, nearly naked, pearls around my neck, flushed and breathing hard.
Emotional and scared.
And wanting this so badly it’s like a hole in my chest.
Seamus looks like a dark, murdering god, an unholy demon who survives on lust and all that’s pleasure and wrong.
He bends down, lightly brushing his lips to mine.
“Shouldn’t we save this for our wedding night?” he whispers.
“No, thanks. I don’t think I can save it for ten minutes from now.”
His lips press hard and he kisses me.
The first touch of him was intoxicating. His fingers and his smell draw me close like a song playing just for me. But it’s his taste that slams a needle straight into the base of my skull and leaves me brainless with want.
Mint, whiskey, promise. A little hit of something sharp and metallic. Like fresh blood.
His tongue invades my mouth, his lips strong and soft all at once, the hand in my hair tangling and tightening as he dominates me.
I moan into his mouth, shocked at my physical reaction as my core begins to pulse and my nipples stiffen.
I’ve never been this turned on in my life.
Not even close. That hand on my lower back slips down to my ass and lightly squeezes, and he lets out this erotic groan.
He likes it. He really, really likes it.
That drives me wild. I kiss him harder, throwing myself into the moment. Losing myself in the wrongness. We shouldn’t be doing this, not right now. One day we’ll be married and this will be expected, but right now?
I’m too emotional. And he’s a fucking bastard.
I still can’t help myself.
His hand moves off my ass and up my body. He explores me, fingers tracing lines along my hips, up my spine, down my breasts. I whimper at that light caress, and he begins to back me toward the bed. I stagger, still kissing him, before he finally wrenches my head back, pulling my hair.
I yelp and moan at the same time as he gently tugs my panties down.
His fingers twist through the light mound of my pubic hair, moving toward my swollen and aching pussy.
“You want to hear something deeply fucked?” he whispers, kissing my neck, my ear, fingers teasing my folds, slowly stroking them before parting me. He teases my clit, rolling around it, and I melt into his touch.
“Oh, god. Go ahead and talk to me.”
“I don’t care if you’re going to regret this tomorrow.”
“Great, I don’t either.”
“A part of me hopes you do.”
“Actually, that is kind of fucked.”
“I told you.” His fingers slide inside. “I’m not a nice man.”
I shiver and bite his chest. He grunts in surprise as his fingers drill in deeper before pulling out. “You seem okay to me.”
“Easy for you to say. I didn’t tattoo my knuckles on your face earlier.”
“No, you’re tattooing your fingers in my—” He pulls them out and shoves two right into my mouth before I can finish that sentence. I whimper in shock as his gray-blue eyes stare at me.
“Now, now, princess. I don’t want any dirty talk from you. Not until we’re married. We wouldn’t want to spoil you. Now clean these off. Turns out, you’re dripping fucking wet.”
I whimper again as I suck his fingers. He’s right; I can feel myself on my thigh, the tingles running down my spine. He pushes me back until I tumble to the edge of the bed, and he drops to his knees, shrugging off his jacket, tossing it aside, and unbuttoning his dress shirt.
I stare at him, legs spread as he kisses my inner thigh.
His chest is sculpted. A lion’s inked near his heart.
Its claws are out, ripping into a fresh heart.
Guns are crossed on his other chest. A Gaelic cross beneath his throat.
A crown on fire, a clock, and a skull. More ink I can’t make out.
His abs are cut and rippling as his shirt drops to the floor.
His mouth moves closer to my aching core.
“You tasted yourself,” he murmurs, face shining as if in ecstasy. “Now I’m jealous. I want some.”
“Don’t be greedy.”
“Oh, princess, I’d never be selfish with you.” He smirks as his mouth presses to my pussy, tongue slowly moving up and down my folds.
And I swear, the noises I make.
Unlike anything that’s ever come out of my mouth before.
Moans, whimpers, groans. Little gasps of delight.
Bliss assaults me as my future husband does things with his mouth I’ve never felt before in my life.
He licks me. Sucks me. Fingers slide inside as he focuses on my clit. I grind into his face, reckless and mindless. I don’t care what I look like or how I sound. All I want is this man between my legs.
I grip his hair as his tongue fucks me.
Then he pulls back. I’m moaning, begging him to keep going. But that bastard smirk is back. He rips my panties off the rest of the way and unhooks my bra, leaving me naked. My pink nipples are stiff in the air. His eyes move over my bikini tan lines.
“Just pearls,” he says, unbuckling his belt. “Exactly what I wanted.” He takes off his slacks, leaving him in boxer briefs. I’m breathing hard, chest hammering, as I stare at the outline of his hard cock.
He’s massive.
And he slowly takes himself out.
Thick tip. Veins down the length. My mouth opens in surprise as he leans down and kisses me again. I taste myself on his tongue.
“This is the part where you beg me to fuck you,” he whispers. The tip of him teases against my slit, moving up and down.
“I thought you said I couldn’t say anything dirty?”
He laughs softly, low and erotic. “What a good girl you are. Do you always follow the rules?”
“No. I mean, mostly.”
“Your room’s perfect. From what I saw of your apartment, it’s the same. I bet you color-code your calendar.”
“Multiple calendars,” I correct.
He shakes his head and bites my lower lip. “I give you permission, just this once, to ask me very politely to fuck you.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “How generous.”
“Go ahead, princess. You want me to fill you? You want me to fuck your needy little pussy? Then ask me. Go ahead and say it.”
I’m breathing hard. Anticipation makes my head dizzy. I reach up and wrap my hands behind his neck, pulling him to me. I kiss him, wanting his tongue in my mouth, his taste deep inside my brain. He pulls back and I force myself to do it before I can second-guess.
“Fuck me, Seamus. Please, fuck me.”
He lets out a low moan like that’s the most incredible moment of his life, and slowly he presses his cock against me, driving himself inside.
My back arches and I let out a gasp. He’s so big, he stretches me.
It burns a little, but it also feels incredible as he slowly fills me to the brim, kissing me, licking my nipples, sucking them and praising how good I am, how I’m so good at following his orders, and now he’ll fuck me until I’m pretty and pink and satisfied.
Slowly, viciously, he pulls back and thrusts forward again, easing me down his massive length over and over until the pain fades and is replaced with toe-curling pleasure.
I grind into him. I pull his hair and bite his shoulder as he fucks me, thrusting again and again.
His voice rings in my ears. His violent physique makes my knees lock and my jaw open.
I’m filled and fucked, taken and destroyed in a way I didn’t think was possible.
There’s nothing left in me, no worries, no thoughts.
Only one word: more. Over and over again. More, more, more.
He grinds into me faster, fucking me savagely. I dig my fingers into his back, pleading with him to keep going. “You feel so fucking good,” he snarls in my ear. “God, I’m going to fucking come. I can’t control myself.”
“Not yet,” I beg, so close to the edge but not there. “Please, not yet.”
He moans, pulling my hair. His teeth bite my nipple and one hand squeezes. It hurts, but it’s the way he looks at me, desperate and riding a wave of agonized bliss that finally does it.
“I can’t control myself,” he whispers.
And that breaks me.
I shatter, gasping, back arching. I drive this man wild. A man like Seamus with a girl like me. I come, moaning, explosive, and he’s only seconds behind. I feel him stiffen, thrusts slowing and getting deeper as he fills me, his hot breath washing over my neck and mouth.
I grab him and kiss him. I’m breathing hard and I need to know this is actually happening. He kisses me back, pulling me by the pearl necklace, tightening his grip.
“Fuck, Alina, you absolutely ruin me.” He sounds out of control. His eyes are shining with lust and need. He’s looking at me like he can’t pull himself away.
I feel vulnerable, but not terrible. Normally, I’d run away and take a shower after sex. But Seamus doesn’t let me go. His big arms pull me against him, his dick going soft very slowly inside of me. I resist at first, stiffening, before I slowly relax into his embrace.
We stay like that. I listen to him breathing. He breaks the silence first. “This is all I’ve been able to think about ever since you answered that call in pearls.”
“Good, that was only like a few hours ago.”
“That’s not normal for me.”
“Quick to move on?”
“Like a summer breeze.”
I smile a little and use that moment to squirm away from him. The reality of our situation is starting to dawn on me.
Seamus is a total stranger.
He’s absolutely gorgeous—and somehow even more beautiful lying on my bed totally naked, his massive dick half hard still and glistening from my pussy—but I only met him tonight.
And we just had sex.
Unprotected sex.
“I’m on the pill,” I blurt out and instantly regret it. He smirks slightly, head tilted.
“Would it be so bad if you weren’t?”
“I mean…” I trail off, looking away, blushing like crazy. I go over to my dresser and find an old shirt and shorts to pull on.
“We have to make an heir sooner or later. Might as well start now.”
“I was kind of hoping I’d have time to prepare before I get pregnant.”
“Ah, yeah, that makes sense. You’re the preparation type.” He stretches, completely at ease, while I’m inwardly screaming at myself.
How did you let this happen?! A total stranger!
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I bet you fold your underwear.”
“It fits better in the drawer that way.”
He sighs, stretching. I take the moment to admire his lean physique. The man’s got the thighs of a model.
“And you probably have a chore chart, but you live alone. So really it’s just for you.”
“I don’t forget anything that way. Are we seriously sitting here criticizing me? After we just—” I wave a hand at him, scowling.
“After we just fucked like horny rabbits?”
“I guess you can put it that way.”
He laughs again. I like that sound. But it also pisses me off. “This is the part where you shut down, isn’t it?”
I sputter, getting pissed. “What the heck? You don’t even know me and you’re acting like you’ve got me figured out?”
“You’re twenty-five, own a boutique, lived in the shadow of your bratva father all your life, and now you’re finally on your own.
But you were trained to be this perfect little princess with everything in its proper place, and you really took to that, didn’t you?
Makes you feel safe, right? Except you fell in with a guy like Alex, pretended he wasn’t a piece of shit, and made yourself feel like a rebel.
Now you have me, a big scary criminal for a future husband, and you’re reeling because I just fucked heaven into you, and you don’t know what to do with that. How am I doing so far?”
I stare at him, hands curled into fists. I grab the pearls and yank the string off, sending a couple scattering to the floor, and hurl it at him.
He lazily bats it away.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I storm over and grab his pants, throwing them at him. “Am I seriously marrying a psychopath? Or are you just the most arrogant prick in the world?”
“Only trying to get to know my future wife.”
“By being a fucking asshole.” I throw his shirt at him. “Get dressed and get out.”
He pretends to pout. “You’re fucking me and kicking me out? I feel so used.”
“I doubt you feel much of anything, you dickhead.”
He slowly gets out of bed. I watch him dress, mortified and pissed beyond measure. He watches me in turn, seemingly totally unfazed by his terrible behavior.
What the hell was that? His little speech about my personality? If he was trying to embarrass me, he did a great job.
Once his clothes are on, he drapes his jacket over his arm.
“I had a very nice time,” he says politely.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Despite the way this ended, I look forward to seeing you again.”
I point at the door. “Leave.”
He turns and walks off. I follow, shaking with rage. I’ve never been so mortified in my life. That was even worse than when he saw me topless. At least that was a mistake. And I have great tits.
But he just ripped into me for no reason. Right after fucking me into the best orgasm of my life.
What the hell just happened?
I slam the door behind him and make sure the deadbolts are locked before sinking down to the floor. I pull my knees to my chest and put my face in my thighs.
I still smell like him.
Finally, the dam breaks, and I start sobbing until I feel like I might throw up.