Chapter Eleven
I arrived at church with five minutes to spare.
My parents had ingrained a respect of the church and its servants into me, and though I didn’t overly like Gulliver, old habits died hard.
After a hard day at the docks, I rushed back home to take a quick shower and dress in a suit and jacket, minus the tie.
Aislinn stepped out of her uncle’s apartment and froze when she spotted me waiting in front of the church doors. “You’re here.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I was asked to come as part of this bond, if I’m not mistaken.”
Flustered, she nodded and smoothed down her dress.
It was a soft lavender dress with buttons down the entire front and a wide belt around her slim waist. She wore white pumps with a modest heel.
She looked like a good Catholic Irish lass, and a phone call home this morning had revealed that was exactly what she was.
One of our men over there had met with Patrick for an intense talk about Aislinn and even though she’d reeked of innocence despite the compromising situation at the Doom Loop, his words confirmed a suspicion I hadn’t dared entertain.
This would make our wedding night endeavors all the more entertaining.
It would have been foolish not to do an extensive background check on the woman I intended to marry.
I held out my arm. “Let’s go in. ”
She hesitated briefly before accepting my arm in a barely there touch.
I stifled a smirk as I led her into church. Gulliver was in the front, preparing everything for the evening service. He turned and folded his hands in front of his stomach as he waited for us to head toward him.
“In less than two weeks, someone else will lead you down this aisle toward me.”
Aislinn’s fingers on my arm flexed. “I don’t know who could do it.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Lorcan, Aislinn, I’m glad you could make it. I always insist on such a conversation before I marry a couple. It gives me a chance to see their sincerity.”
He paused.
My desire for Aislinn was sincere, and so was my interest in her. But we all knew he wouldn’t bear witness to our true love today, though the Catholic Church didn’t necessarily require love, only devotion.
I could feel Aislinn’s impatience roll off of her in waves. She didn’t want any of this, which made me want it all the more.
We followed Gulliver into a book-stacked office off to the side. He took a seat in a wide armchair, and we had to sit across from him on a narrow sofa. I made sure our legs were touching, relishing in Aislinn’s very small shudder and the goose bumps spreading along her skin.
“What do you expect from marriage?” Gulliver asked after almost ten minutes of a monologue regarding the formalities of our union.
Was he serious?
I hadn’t come here to share personal details. “Ladies first,” I said.
“I expect honesty, faithfulness, trust …” Aislinn trailed off.
I hadn’t expected her to answer at all, but definitely not honestly.
When it became obvious that she wouldn’t continue, Gulliver turned to me.
“I agree.”
Gulliver knew better than to push me and Aislinn made a face as if she didn’t believe a word out of my mouth.
Gulliver took his bible and began to read a few passages that referenced marriage and its importance. “Why don’t you attend my evening service? That way our community could see you two together. It would send an important message.”
Aislinn shifted on the sofa, hesitation filling her eyes .
“That’s a good idea, Gulliver,” I said, taking Aislinn’s hand and bringing it up to my lips to plant a kiss against her knuckles.
Her answering smile was stiff.
The news about the wedding had spread like wildfire, not only among my men but also in the community, and soon it would be widely known in the underworld too.
Aislinn wanted to find a place in the church early to avoid too much attention, but that was the last thing I had in mind.
“We’ll wait for our grand entrance,” I told her and held her hand to keep her in place.
We had only three minutes to spare when I finally tugged Aislinn through the side entrance of the church.
The hushed murmurs died down and then picked up with even more fervor.
I led Aislinn to the second row, where I usually sat and greeted a couple of my men.
Most of them only attended Sunday service, but a few needed more godly support to deal with our daily business.
I sank down and Aislinn had no choice but to sit right beside me as I was still holding her hand. The only other person in our row was an elderly lady, but she sat at the other end. Usually people stayed away from my bench, not because I didn’t allow people to sit near me.
The congregation fell silent as Gulliver began his service. Aislinn tried to free her hand from my hold but instead I put our linked hands on her lap as I watched Gulliver’s sermon with rapt attention.
Eventually she gave up and focused on her uncle’s words.
When I was sure she was completely distracted, I slid two fingers into a gap between her dress buttons.
She stiffened when my fingertips brushed her mound, sliding lower until a sharp intake of breath from Aislinn told me I’d found the spot I was looking for.
Aislinn tried to shove my hand away but I thwarted her attempt, stifling a grin when her nails dug into my skin.
I increased the pressure on her sweet button.
Aislinn put her second hand on top of mine as well, glancing around nervously.
No one could see where my two fingers were.
Besides, people were too focused on Gulliver anyway.
She tried crossing her legs but wedged my fingers against her pussy, increasing the pressure even more.
She leaned closer. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t that obvious? I’m trying to make you sing hallelujah.”
Aislinn sent me a scathing look then turned back to the front, straightening her back.
I could see the stubborn glint in her eyes and determined set of her mouth.
She was trying to fight it—me—and the havoc I was wreaking in her body.
Soon, her panties became wet to the touch, and her fighting was for naught.
I increased the pressure, moved my fingers despite their confinement against her nub.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip and a flush spread over her throat and neckline.
Her nails dug even deeper into my hand, and then I felt the slightest spasms of her pussy against my fingers as she exhaled a shuddery breath.
Her eyes remained focused on the front of the church, her expression a mask of interest. To the rest of the congregation, it looked as if Aislinn was obediently listening to Gulliver’s sermon, but I knew her mind was far away as she fought to hide her release.
I stilled my fingers, smirking at the wetness that gathered against them.
I kept my fingers against her pussy, basking in my triumph and enjoying her heat and lust. Aislinn ignored me completely.
She still thought she could win this game.
She thought she could stay in control in our marriage, maybe even use me to her advantage to find her sister, but I had ten years and many fucked-up mind games on her.
I couldn’t believe what Lorcan just did. I’d hoped to avoid spending too much time with him before our wedding day, and secretly I wished that I’d miraculously find Imogen before then so we could run away before I had to say “I do”.
My cheeks were flaming, and so was my entire body.
I was acutely aware of how my panties were stuck to my still pulsating flesh.
Lorcan had barely moved his fingers, but the pressure and the situation had enhanced his slight touch.
I’d just come in the middle of church, in the middle of service.
I felt a little sick and guilty thinking about it.
If it hadn’t drawn too much attention to me, to us, I would have left the church right now.
I wanted to be as far away from Lorcan as possible.
His fingers were still pressed against my pussy, and I was still tingling.
Still swollen. Still on the verge of another release.
I didn’t understand my body, how it could succumb so easily to Lorcan’s rough charm.
I knew without a doubt that my body would have clammed up if Patrick had tried anything in public with me.
Lorcan finally slid his fingers out of my dress when we had to get up.
I would have breathed a sigh of relief if a new worry hadn’t entered my mind: what if my thin linen dress showed traces of what we’d done?
I’d die of mortification if the people behind us saw a wet spot.
Maybe they’d think I’d peed my own pants, which I’d honestly prefer to the truth.
Lorcan and I stood and stepped out of our pew. Soon people gathered around to congratulate us on our upcoming wedding. I kept up my smile. This was for my family. It wasn’t the end of my story. It was only a short blip in my life plan.
Lorcan’s body became tense and my interest was piqued, when a thin man with carrot orange hair came over to us. “Congrats to the Devaney clan on this promising bond. And congrats to you Miss Killeen. I’m Desmond.”
My eyebrows climbed up my face. His tone suggested a familiarity that wasn’t there, as if he knew more about me and my family than I did.
“My wife won’t need to know you on a first-name basis. Shouldn’t you seek moral guidance at your police station?” Lorcan asked sharply.
“Sometimes I like to return to my roots.” He nodded a farewell before he left.
“Traitor.”
“Snitch.”
I glanced around curiously at the people who’d muttered curses among themselves.
“He was part of the Irish community before he became a police officer?”
“Indeed.” Lorcan fixed me with a hard look. “Your search for your sister won’t take you to the police, Aislinn. If you want information, you’ll ask me, nobody else. Am I making myself clear?”