4. Finn #2
I grip her arms and pull her over my shoulder before she can react, setting her carefully onto her feet and pinning her against the cold brick wall with my body.
Then I pry the gun from her hand and slide it into my spare pocket.
A gun for a gun; that’s how it works. She raises her right knee into my groin, and fuck, she’s fast. But I preempt the move and grip her thigh, moving it sideways and pressing my hips against her so that she can’t move.
“What do you want?” Her voice is low, feral, and my loins reach for her the way a thirsty man would reach for water as she peers up at me with hazel eyes flecked with amber.
“Your name.” I can feel her heart skittering like a cornered rabbit against my chest. “That’s it.”
Her eyes narrow, and I picture them rolling back into her head when I inevitably make her come. “Where is my sister?”
“Your sister?” There are two of them.
“Did you see her last night at the port?” Every muscle in her is tense, poised ready for flight, but she isn’t fighting back.
Yet.
“Was she there?” I’m trying to slot a sister into the pieces of the Russian organization, but I’m confused as to why she thinks I might know where she is. “What happened to her?”
Her eyes scan mine, flickering back and forth, searching deep. Then, “Why were you there?”
“I was tracking your organization.” The words are out there before my betrayal of the Kavanagh family who brought me up as their own can put a gun to my head and pull the trigger.
“My organization?” Her eyes are like slits now, almost totally black. “Why would you—”
I silence her with a kiss before I give away all our secrets.
My tongue parts her lips, begging to be allowed in, and she kisses me back.
Her hands sneak around the back of my neck, cool and slender, and I don’t consider the possibility that she might be armed with a blade that I’ve missed in the heat of the moment.
Our teeth collide. A sound like a puppy whimpering escapes her throat, and I press harder, deeper, my tongue filling her mouth, our breaths combined.
“Fuck, I want you,” I murmur into her mouth.
She twists my hair around her fingers and tugs, as she rises onto her tiptoes and sucks on my bottom lip. “Why?” It’s barely a whisper, but I feel it vibrating through me as if she yelled it at the top of her lungs.
“Because…” I could tell her she’s beautiful, but she deserves more than pillow-talk clichés. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilt her head back. Kissing her is like diving into the deep end of the swimming pool and realizing that there’s no bottom. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop, and I grind my hips into her, trying to relieve the ache in my throbbing cock.
And she kisses me the same way. If this is acting, I’ll make it my life mission to get her into Hollywood because no one has ever kissed me this way before. Like she can’t get enough of me. Like she’ll die if I stop.
Her jacket is open, and her nipples are hard beneath her sweater, burning holes in my chest, and when I roll my erection across her pelvis, she pushes back.
“Tell me to stop.” I rest my forehead against her, and she tugs me back again, her lips reaching for mine.
“I don’t want you to stop.” Her eyes flash as if caught off-guard by her own words.
I slide a hand down between her legs and pull her panties aside, slipping my finger inside her, and she gasps. “Your name, a ghrá.”
“I… can’t.”
I hook my finger inside her, finding the spot, and she leans against me, burying her face in my neck. She’s trembling, and I want to hug her tightly and fuck her till she begs me to stop all at once.
“Why can’t you tell me your name?” I ease my finger in and out of her, rubbing her clit with my thumb. “I promise to keep it safe.”
She releases a breath somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “And your word is your honor?”
“Good girl, you remembered.” I grip her jaw and twist her face back to me, my tongue finding her mouth. “Your name or another finger.”
She sucks my tongue hard, watching me while she does it, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Another finger.” She releases my tongue and spreads her legs wider.
I comply with her request and slide my index finger inside her, stretching her walls. “You’re so fucking wet.” I hook both fingers inside her, probing, feeling her walls tighten around me before I open them a little wider.
“It’s your fault.”
Her words send a thrill traveling down my spine and make me smile. “I’ll take that blame any time, sweetheart.” I moisten my thumb with her slick and circle her softened clit. “Want more?”
“Yes.” It comes out on an exhale.
I stop and slide my fingers out of her, the squelch of her juices as I pull out making my cock twitch. “Your name.”
She peers up at me, lips parted, her breath rising and dipping with each shallow breath. “Why is it so important?”
“Because I don’t just want to fuck you.” My voice is thick with want, but I keep it low, our faces so close that her oxygen is mine.
I need her to understand that this isn’t the Irish versus the Russians, or me trying to score points after what happened at the port.
“This is so much fucking more than that.”
She swallows hard.
Just as I think she will finally tell me her name, we both hear a sound from the street end of the alleyway.
A lanky youth is standing there staring straight back at me as if he expected the alleyway to be vacant.
Maybe it’s where he comes to smoke something he shouldn’t be in possession of.
Whatever the case, he has already seen too much.
“Turn around and walk away,” I growl, shielding her with my body.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he weighs up his options.
Too fucking late. “Now!” I slide my gun from my pocket and point it at him.
It has the desired effect. He turns around and mingles with the pedestrians passing by without looking behind him.
I pocket my gun, but the moment has passed, and much as I want to bend her over and fuck her right here, right now, she deserves better.
I rub my thumb across her bottom lip, and she grabs my wrist, licking her taste from me. “Fuck, sweetheart…” I watch her tongue curl around my thumb then trace a damp line down into that space between it and my index finger, and back up again. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
“Tell me.”
I take her other hand and place it over my rock-solid cock. “This.” I lick her juices from my finger, my tongue brushing hers as she licks the other side, and I move her hand up to my chest, holding it against my thudding heart. “And this.”
I hold her gaze, battling with the throbbing in my pants and everything that I want to say to her and can’t find the words for.
“But not here.” I’m firm, my eyes still locked on hers. “Not like this.”
She blinks slowly, breaking the spell. She might as well slice my chest open and cut out a piece of my heart as walk away from me right now, and I understand that it’s now or never. No second chances. No contrived meet-cutes like you see in the movies.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
Her lips curl up at the corners, and I realize that it’s the first time I’ve seen her smile. Her eyes practically glow amber around her enlarged pupils, and her features soften into something even more beautiful.
“No.”
Well, at least she’s fucking honest.
I stand back. “You can walk away right now, and I promise I won’t come looking for you.”
She doesn’t move. Instead, she peers up at me from beneath thick black lashes and nibbles her bottom lip. “I don’t want to walk away.”
My heart performs a somersault behind my ribs, and I crush her mouth with mine. “Any time you want this to stop, just say the word.”
“What word?”
I can’t help smiling. “Shamrock.”